Chapter 5 - THE TRAITOR WHO NEVER LEFT THE HOUSE
Vitali House employed eighteen permanent staff.
Dominic had trusted twelve of them for more than a decade.
Now every familiar face looked different.
Emily refused to return.
“Good,” Dominic said.
She narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t need your permission.”
“I know.”
“Stop sounding pleased.”
“I’m pleased you’re making sensible decisions.”
She stared at him.
“You’re impossible.”
Rose whispered from the sofa:
“I like him.”
Emily sighed.
“Of course you do.”
Dominic ordered a silent audit of everyone who had lived or worked at Vitali House when Antonio died.
One name appeared immediately.
Teresa Vale.
Housekeeper.
Age seventy-one.
Still employed.
She had served Dominic’s mother first.
Then Antonio.
Then Dominic.
She had practically raised him.
“No,” Dominic said.
Luca did not argue.
Teresa had access to everything.
Bedrooms.
Offices.
Piano room.
Mail.
Security routines.
Twenty years ago, she had been the person who found Antonio’s empty bedroom after his death.
And the person who told police he carried no valuables that evening.
Then the audit found a payment.
Three hundred thousand dollars.
Deposited into Teresa’s sister’s account three days after Antonio died.
Origin:
Enzo Bellini.
Dominic’s expression hardened.
“Bring her to me.”
Teresa entered the library carrying a tray of coffee as if nothing had changed.
“Dominic, you haven’t eaten.”
He looked at the woman who had tucked blankets around him when he was ten.
“Sit down.”
She stopped.
Her eyes moved toward Luca.
Then to the file on the desk.
She understood.
“Oh.”
That one word hurt more than denial.
“You took money from Enzo.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To move your mother.”
Dominic froze.
“What?”
“Maria was alive.”
Silence.
His mother had supposedly died from a stroke when he was twelve.
Teresa started crying.
“She discovered Enzo was using your father’s companies.”
“For what?”
“Blackmail.”
“Against whom?”
“Judges. businessmen. police officers.”
“Why fake her death?”
“Because Enzo threatened you.”
Dominic stood.
“So my mother abandoned me?”
“No.”
Teresa shook her head violently.
“She watched from a distance.”
“Where is she now?”
Teresa’s face collapsed.
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Dominic turned away.
Four years.
Not twenty-nine.
His mother had lived most of his adult life without him knowing.
Then he asked:
“Did she know who killed my father?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Teresa looked toward the door.
“Dominic…”
“Name.”
Her voice shook.
“Your father wasn’t killed by Enzo.”
Dominic stared.
“Then who?”
Teresa whispered:
“Marco.”
The word hung between them.
Then she added:
May you like
“But not for the reason you think.”
“He killed Antonio because Antonio asked him to.”
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