Chapter 2 - THE ACCOUNT THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST
By midnight, Alessandro’s Manhattan study no longer looked like the office of a powerful businessman.
It looked like a war room.
Bank statements covered the walnut conference table. Three forensic accountants worked silently beneath brass lamps while Marco stood near the windows speaking to investigators.
Alessandro stared at one name.
Isabella Moretti Family Trust.
His mother’s trust had supposedly been dormant for eight years.
Yet millions had moved through it.
“Show me the source.”
Accountant Rachel Levin turned her laptop.
“The employee deductions were fragmented. Small enough individually to avoid attention.”
“Who approved them?”
“Digital approvals came from your administrative credentials.”
Alessandro’s eyes hardened.
“I never approved these.”
“I believe you.”
Rachel opened another file.
“Someone cloned your authorization certificate.”
Marco swore softly.
“Can you identify who?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t tonight.”
Rachel remained calm.
“Then tonight I can tell you where the money went.”
She displayed a network of companies.
Hartwell Staffing.
East Borough Housing Services.
M&R Medical Assistance.
Delgado Residential Management.
Alessandro recognized the last name.
“Sophia’s landlord?”
Rachel nodded.
“Her building was purchased eighteen months ago by a shell company connected to your family trust.”
The room went silent.
Alessandro understood immediately.
Someone had been stealing from Sophia’s paycheck and collecting her rent.
They had created poverty and then profited from it.
“Who owns the shell company?”
Rachel clicked.
The answer appeared.
Matteo Moretti.
Marco looked toward Alessandro.
“Want me to bring him in?”
“No.”
Alessandro picked up his coat.
“I’m going to dinner.”
Marco blinked.
“Dinner?”
“My mother invited the family for Tuesday.”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“She won’t care.”
Forty minutes later, Isabella Moretti’s townhouse glowed warmly against the darkness.
She opened the door herself.
“Alessandro?”
His mother wore a cream silk robe and pearl earrings despite the late hour.
“You should have called.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Her smile remained perfect.
“My oldest son never surprises me anymore.”
Inside, the townhouse smelled like rosemary and expensive candles.
Family photographs covered one wall.
Alessandro at twelve.
Matteo at eight.
Their late father, Vittorio.
Christmases.
Birthdays.
Weddings.
A family that appeared almost painfully normal.
“Wine?”
“No.”
Isabella studied him.
“Something happened.”
“An employee became sick.”
“That happens.”
“Her six-year-old daughter came to work for her.”
Isabella’s hand paused above the wine bottle.
Only for half a second.
But Alessandro saw it.
“How unfortunate.”
“Her name is Emma Delgado.”
“I don’t know the children of the staff.”
“Her mother is Sophia.”
This time Isabella poured the wine.
“I remember Sophia.”
“She’s been losing almost two thousand dollars from every paycheck.”
Isabella took a sip.
“Then speak to accounting.”
“I did.”
Alessandro watched her.
“The money went through your trust.”
Silence.
Isabella placed the glass down.
“You arrived here accusing your mother of stealing from maids?”
“I arrived asking.”
“No, Alessandro. You arrived having already decided.”
“Then help me change my mind.”
Isabella smiled sadly.
“You always were your father’s son.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you mistake suspicion for intelligence.”
The front door suddenly opened.
Matteo entered.
He stopped when he saw Alessandro.
“Well.”
Matteo loosened his tie.
“This looks cheerful.”
Alessandro glanced at his brother.
“Interesting timing.”
“Mother called.”
Alessandro looked at Isabella.
She didn’t deny it.
Matteo poured himself whiskey.
“So what exactly are you accusing us of?”
“Four point seven million dollars.”
Matteo nearly dropped the bottle.
Isabella did not react.
That difference told Alessandro everything.
Matteo knew something.
Isabella knew more.
“Where is it?” Alessandro asked.
Matteo looked at their mother.
Wrong move.
Alessandro stepped closer.
“Look at me.”
Matteo did.
“Where is the money?”
“It isn’t what you think.”
“That sentence has never improved a conversation.”
“Dad started it.”
Alessandro froze.
Their father had been dead sixteen years.
“What?”
Matteo looked suddenly exhausted.
“The employee system. Dad created it.”
Isabella snapped:
“Enough.”
Alessandro turned toward her.
“You knew.”
Isabella’s face transformed.
The warm mother disappeared.
In her place stood the woman who had spent decades beside Vittorio Moretti.
“You think this family was built with clean hands?”
“No.”
“Then stop pretending to be shocked.”
“We stole from employees?”
“We survived.”
“By taking from housekeepers?”
“By controlling everyone who entered our world.”
Alessandro stared at her.
Isabella walked toward the fireplace.
“Your father believed dependency created loyalty. Employees were paid enough to survive but never enough to leave comfortably.”
Matteo looked sick.
Alessandro felt something inside him break.
“How many?”
Isabella said nothing.
“How many people?”
“Hundreds.”
The word landed like a gunshot.
“And the money?”
“Reinvested.”
“In what?”
“Property. Businesses. Political relationships.”
Alessandro looked at Matteo.
“You continued it.”
Matteo rubbed his forehead.
“Mother said we couldn’t dismantle it without exposing everything.”
“You stole from Sophia.”
“I adjusted deductions.”
“You went to her apartment.”
Matteo’s face changed.
Alessandro moved closer.
“What happened there?”
“Nothing.”
“What happened?”
“She was asking questions.”
“So you threatened her.”
“I scared her.”
“You scared a single mother because she wanted her paycheck?”
Matteo suddenly shouted:
“You don’t understand what she found!”
Silence.
Isabella closed her eyes.
Alessandro stared at his brother.
“What did she find?”
Matteo realized his mistake.
“What did Sophia find?”
Isabella answered.
“A ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The original one.”
Alessandro felt the room grow colder.
“Where is it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who does?”
Isabella looked at him.
“Sophia.”
Alessandro immediately called Marco.
No answer.
He called again.
Nothing.
Then his phone rang.
Hospital security.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes.”
“We have a situation involving Ms. Delgado.”
Alessandro’s stomach tightened.
“What situation?”
“Someone attempted to enter her room using false medical credentials.”
“Where are my men?”
“One was found unconscious in a stairwell.”
Alessandro was already moving.
“Lock the floor.”
“We have.”
“Where is Emma?”
A pause.
“Mr. Moretti…”
His heart stopped.
“What?”
“The child is missing.”
Alessandro slowly looked back at his mother and brother.
Matteo turned pale.
Isabella whispered:
“Oh, God.”
Alessandro’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“If either of you knows who took that little girl, this is the last opportunity you will ever have to tell me.”
Neither spoke.
He walked out.
But behind him, Matteo finally whispered something to Isabella.
Something Alessandro did not hear.
“The ledger wasn’t with Sophia.”
Isabella stared at him.
“Then where is it?”
May you like
Matteo looked toward the abandoned little red scarf Alessandro had brought from the hospital.
“With Emma.”
