Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT HER MOTHER DIED
Grant Walsh had lied about many things.
But Brena had never heard him sound afraid until he described the night Elaine died.
It happened in their old house in Westchester.
Elaine had spent months preparing evidence against Vittorio’s financial network.
Then Vittorio became sick.
Salvatore took more control.
Elaine wanted to go to federal investigators.
Grant begged her not to.
“You begged her because you were involved,” Brena said.
“Yes.”
There was no defense left in him.
“I helped move money. I created companies. I thought it was accounting theater for rich men.”
“You knew better.”
“Eventually.”
“What happened that night?”
Grant looked at Tiberio.
“Your uncle came to the house.”
Tiberio’s face hardened.
“Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
“He threatened Elaine?”
“He offered a deal.”
“What deal?”
Grant swallowed.
“She gives him the original ledgers, and he leaves our family alone.”
“Did she agree?”
“No.”
Brena closed her eyes.
Of course not.
Elaine had hidden evidence for years.
She would not surrender it to the man she feared.
“Then what?”
“I went upstairs because you called.”
Brena stared.
“I was away at college.”
“You were having a panic attack about an exam.”
She remembered.
Freshman year.
Economics final.
Her mother had spoken to her for almost forty minutes.
Told her to breathe.
Told her one grade could not decide her life.
“I talked to Mom that night.”
“Yes.”
“Then she died hours later.”
Grant nodded.
“When I came downstairs, Salvatore was gone. Elaine was sitting at the kitchen table. She said she felt dizzy.”
His voice broke.
“Twenty minutes later she collapsed.”
“Hospital?”
“She died in the ambulance.”
“Autopsy?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Doctors believed aneurysm. She had complained of headaches before.”
Tiberio asked the next question.
“What did Salvatore drink?”
Grant frowned.
“Whiskey.”
“What did Elaine drink?”
“Tea.”
“Did Salvatore touch it?”
“I don’t know.”
Brena felt sick.
There was no proof.
Only suspicion.
But Grant had one more thing.
“After the funeral, the kitchen was broken into.”
“What was taken?”
“Elaine’s tea tin.”
Silence.
Tiberio immediately contacted investigators working Salvatore’s case.
They could not prove murder.
Not yet.
But the old death records were reopened.
Brena returned to the penthouse exhausted.
She found Tiberio standing in the dark beside the window.
“You don’t have to stay awake because of me.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re terrible at lying.”
He looked at her.
“You’re one to speak.”
She crossed the room.
“I lied at the board meeting.”
“You were useful.”
“Careful. That almost sounded like praise.”
His expression shifted.
Then Brena noticed blood on his knuckles.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She took his hand.
He allowed it.
That surprised them both.
“You punched something.”
“A wall.”
“Very sophisticated.”
“I was angry.”
“I noticed.”
She cleaned the cuts in the bathroom.
Neither spoke for a while.
Then Tiberio said, “I married you to hurt Grant.”
“I remember.”
“I believed he destroyed Alio.”
“He helped.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“I turned you into punishment for something you did not do.”
Brena looked at him.
“Yes.”
No excuses.
No softness.
Just truth.
“I’m sorry.”
Her hand stopped.
It was the first apology he had ever given her.
Not strategic.
Not sarcastic.
Real.
“You don’t have to forgive me,” he said.
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
“But you can start behaving like a husband who wants to deserve the title.”
Tiberio looked at her.
“What would that require?”
“For starters, stop making decisions about my life without me.”
“Impossible.”
Brena laughed despite herself.
Then he smiled.
Actually smiled.
Small.
Brief.
But real.
And for one dangerous moment, revenge no longer felt like the strongest thing between them.
Then Tiberio’s phone rang.
Marco.
His voice came through the speaker.
“We found the original medical transport log from Elaine’s death.”
Brena’s heartbeat stopped.
“There was another passenger in the ambulance,” Marco said.
“Who?” Tiberio asked.
“Salvatore.”
Brena gripped the sink.
But Marco was not finished.
“He left before the ambulance reached the hospital.”
May you like
And according to the driver’s old handwritten note, Salvatore had carried something away with him.
A silver tea tin.
