Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN EVERYONE EXPECTED TO REPLACE CARMELA
Isabella Falcone had never been cruel to me.
That almost made the truth worse.
She was thirty-four.
Elegant.
Educated.
Always perfectly composed.
She remembered staff birthdays.
Donated to hospitals.
And treated Sophia with such warmth that I once believed she might be the only wealthy woman in Dante’s world who genuinely liked children.
Now Luca’s video showed her standing beside Victor Salerno while they discussed accounts connected to stolen foundation money.
Dante watched the footage three times.
Then closed the laptop.
“Why would Isabella help him?”
I folded my arms.
“You know her better than I do.”
His expression tightened.
“She grew up with us.”
“Family doesn’t mean innocent.”
The words hurt him.
I could see it.
But he nodded.
“I know.”
That afternoon, Isabella arrived at the estate.
Nobody had called her.
She walked directly into the library carrying a white cake box.
“I brought Sophia something.”
My stomach tightened.
Dante stood.
“What?”
Isabella smiled.
“A little birthday cake. I heard she likes strawberries.”
Sophia’s birthday wasn't for another three weeks.
I stepped closer.
“Who told you?”
Isabella’s expression changed slightly.
“Patricia, perhaps.”
Patricia was in the kitchen.
I knew she hadn't.
Dante noticed too.
Then Sophia entered.
She saw Isabella and smiled.
“Bella!”
My heart dropped.
Sophia had never called her that in front of me.
Isabella crouched.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
Sophia ran toward her.
I stopped her gently.
“Wait.”
Isabella looked up.
Something cold passed through her eyes.
Just for a second.
Then she smiled again.
“Rosa?”
I looked toward the cake box.
“Did you order that?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
She frowned.
“What does it matter?”
Dante stepped forward.
“It matters.”
Isabella slowly stood.
“Dante, what is this?”
He placed Luca’s photograph on the table.
Her face changed.
There it was.
Recognition.
Fear.
Then anger.
“Where did you get that?”
Dante’s voice became quiet.
“So you remember him.”
“He was my cousin.”
“Why were you meeting Victor about foundation accounts?”
She looked toward me.
Then Sophia.
Then back at Dante.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
For several seconds, Isabella said nothing.
Finally:
“Victor told me Luca was stealing.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“And you believed him?”
“I believed the documents.”
“What documents?”
“Transfers. Accounts. Payments to Rosa.”
I went still.
“Payments to me?”
Isabella looked toward me.
“You didn’t know?”
My stomach tightened.
Dante turned.
“What payments?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Luca was moving money out of the foundation.”
“No,” I said. “I never received anything.”
Isabella’s face lost color.
Then Dante’s attorney arrived carrying a report.
The payments had existed.
But they never reached me.
Someone had opened an account using my identity.
More than six hundred thousand dollars had passed through it.
And the authorized beneficiary signature was forged.
May you like
Then the attorney revealed the account owner.
Isabella Falcone.
