Chapter 5 - THE LIE THAT PUT HER IN HANDCUFFS
They put handcuffs on Sofia in front of me.
I had never hated the sound of metal more.
“Lorenzo.”
She said my name quietly.
Not frightened for herself.
“Isabella.”
“I’ll protect her.”
“Don’t let her see me like this.”
That broke something in me.
I moved close enough that only she could hear.
“You saved my life once.”
Her eyes filled.
“Now let me save your name.”
The police drove her away.
Emilio remained beneath the chapel awning.
Watching.
I wanted to put my hands around his throat.
Instead, I remembered my father’s letter.
Do not become cruel simply because cruel men survived me.
So I did something Emilio did not expect.
I smiled.
“You made a mistake.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“You should have killed the tape when you had the chance.”
His confidence flickered.
“The tape proves nothing.”
“It proves my father knew.”
“Knowing isn’t evidence of murder.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“But you just admitted Daniel Harper was killed after refusing your warning.”
Emilio’s face changed.
I tapped my coat pocket.
Empty.
His eyes narrowed.
Then Dominic stepped from behind the chapel door holding his phone.
“Recorded every word.”
For the first time that night, Emilio looked afraid.
He turned and left without another sentence.
We had a recording.
But not enough.
Men like Emilio survived by keeping distance between their words and the crimes those words caused.
And Sofia was still in custody.
By sunrise, the story was everywhere.
DUCA MASSACRE SURVIVOR ARRESTED.
MAID MAY HAVE BEEN CONNECTED TO FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD FAMILY MURDERS.
The word maid appeared in every headline.
As if scrubbing my floors had somehow become proof of guilt.
Isabella sat at my breakfast table staring at a bowl of cereal she had not touched.
“When is Mommy coming home?”
“Soon.”
“You said lying is bad.”
I looked at her.
“It is.”
“You don’t know if soon is true.”
Seven years old.
And already too accustomed to adults giving comforting answers instead of honest ones.
“You’re right.”
I sat beside her.
“I don’t know when she’s coming home.”
Her lip trembled.
“But I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she does.”
“Because she saved you?”
“That’s one reason.”
“What’s the other?”
I looked down at my hands.
Because I could not stop thinking about her.
Because when she entered a room, I noticed.
Because fifteen years ago, in the worst moment of my life, her voice had been the thing that led me out of darkness.
And now, somehow, I had found that voice again.
“Because your mother deserves someone to believe her.”
Isabella considered that.
Then she pushed half her cereal toward me.
“You should eat.”
I almost laughed.
“You sound like your mother.”
“She says angry people forget breakfast.”
Smart woman.
By noon, my attorneys had discovered the problem.
Renata’s statement was detailed.
Too detailed.
She claimed Sofia opened the west kitchen door at 10:42 p.m.
Claimed she saw Sofia speaking to masked men.
Claimed Sofia disappeared immediately afterward.
Only one thing saved us.
Renata gave an exact time.
10:42.
Sofia had been somewhere else at 10:42.
With me.
I remembered because the memory had never left.
I had been hiding in my father’s wine cellar after hearing the first shots upstairs.
Sofia found me there.
The old security system had recorded access logs.
Most were destroyed.
But not all.
Dominic located archived insurance records from the reconstruction.
At 10:39 p.m., someone with Sofia’s father’s employee card entered the wine cellar.
At 10:44 p.m., the emergency tunnel opened.
If Sofia had been with me underground, she could not have opened the kitchen door upstairs.
“Enough to destroy Renata’s statement?” I asked.
My attorney, Rebecca Sloan, shook her head.
“Enough to challenge it.”
“I want more.”
She looked at me.
“Then find Renata.”
That was the problem.
Renata had vanished.
She had left my mansion during the chaos at the chapel.
No guard admitted releasing her.
No camera caught her leaving.
At 3:15 p.m., Isabella walked into my study holding a doll.
“Mr. Lorenzo?”
I looked up.
“Yes?”
She rarely called me that.
Usually I was Mr. Duca.
“What is it?”
“Renata gave me something.”
I stood.
“When?”
“When she took me into the tunnel.”
My heart accelerated.
“What?”
Isabella pulled the doll’s dress upward.
Taped beneath it was a tiny USB drive.
My security team scanned it before opening anything.
There was one video.
Renata appeared on screen.
No makeup.
No uniform.
Terrified.
“If you’re seeing this,” she said, “then I probably failed.”
She looked off camera.
“Emilio made me sign a statement against Sofia years ago. He kept it because he knew she might someday return.”
I felt rage climbing my throat.
Renata continued.
“Sofia did not betray the Duca family.”
Isabella grabbed my hand.
“She saved Lorenzo. I saw them enter the tunnel together.”
Then Renata began crying.
“I opened the west kitchen door.”
My entire body became rigid.
“I thought Emilio’s men were only coming for documents. When I realized what was happening, I tried to close it. It was too late.”
Her voice cracked.
“I have spent fifteen years serving in Lorenzo’s house because Emilio told me if I ever disappeared, he would kill my sister and her children.”
She held up a stack of papers.
“Copies of his payments are hidden in the old train station locker number 214.”
Dominic immediately called two men.
Then Renata said something unexpected.
“And Sofia... if you ever see this... I’m sorry about Daniel.”
Sofia’s husband.
Renata wiped her face.
“I drove the car that followed him the night he died.”
The room became silent.
“I didn’t cause the crash.”
She stared directly into the camera.
“But I know who did.”
A shadow moved behind her.
Renata turned.
The video shook.
A man’s voice said, “You really never learned when to stop talking.”
Emilio.
Then the recording ended.
Isabella squeezed my hand.
“Is Renata dead?”
I didn’t answer.
Because my phone rang.
Dominic answered first.
His face changed.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“We found locker 214.”
“And?”
“Empty.”
I swore.
“Someone got there first?”
“No.”
Dominic looked toward Isabella.
“The station manager said a woman opened it twenty minutes ago.”
“Renata?”
He shook his head.
“Sofia.”
The room went silent.
“That’s impossible.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Apparently Sofia Bellini was released from custody an hour ago.”
My heart stopped.
Nobody had told me.
Then a text appeared on my phone.
From Sofia’s number.
May you like
Don’t come looking for me. If you do, Isabella dies.
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