Chapter 7 - THE INSURANCE POLICY THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HER RICH
Sophia wanted Adrian alive until I left.
Then she needed him dead.
The simplicity of it made me feel sick.
For years, I had thought she wanted my husband because she loved him.
Maybe she did.
But love looked very different when paired with a life insurance policy.
Detective Bennett explained that the beneficiary change had not been properly executed.
The signature was suspicious.
The insurance company had already flagged it.
But Sophia apparently believed it worked.
Adrian stared at the document.
“Did I sign this?”
His attorney shook his head.
“No.”
For once, Adrian looked afraid.
Not of dying.
Of realizing how completely someone he trusted had used him.
I felt no satisfaction.
Only exhaustion.
Then Bennett said:
“We have enough to investigate fraud. Not enough yet to prove attempted murder.”
Adrian nodded.
“What do you need?”
“Cooperation.”
He looked toward me.
Then back at her.
“You have it.”
That mattered.
The old Adrian would have handled Sophia privately.
A threat.
A disappearance.
A body nobody found.
Now he called law enforcement.
Maybe because he was scared.
Maybe because he was finally learning.
I didn’t know.
The next morning, Sophia was questioned.
She denied everything.
She claimed I fabricated the documents because I was jealous.
Then she produced messages.
From Adrian.
I wish Claire would just leave.
Sometimes I think marrying her was a mistake.
You understand me better than she does.
I read them.
My hands went cold.
He had written them.
No forgery.
No manipulation.
Real words.
Adrian didn’t deny it.
“I said those things.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“When?”
“During arguments.”
“With her.”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You handed her the knife and now you’re shocked she used it.”
His face collapsed.
“You’re right.”
That was becoming his most painful sentence.
Then Sophia’s attorney made another claim.
The Bennett inheritance wasn’t mine.
He produced a document showing Thomas Bennett had signed away his shares decades earlier.
Evelyn stared at it.
Then smiled.
A strange smile.
“What?”
I asked.
“This document is fake.”
Sophia’s attorney frowned.
“How can you know?”
“Because Thomas Bennett died in 1988.”
She pointed to the signature date.
“1991.”
Silence.
Sophia’s face changed.
For the first time, she looked frightened.
Then Detective Bennett’s phone rang.
She listened.
Her expression hardened.
“What?”
Adrian asked.
She turned toward him.
“We found Lorenzo.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In a private home near Lake Geneva.”
Teresa covered her mouth.
Then Bennett added:
“He says Victor Lane has been keeping him medicated for eighteen months.”
My stomach tightened.
“And Sophia?”
The detective looked toward the door where Sophia had just been escorted away.
“Lorenzo says Sophia knew exactly where he was.”
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Then one final revelation:
“And he says she wasn’t acting alone—someone inside the Moretti family helped her.”
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