Chapter 4 - SOMEONE INSIDE THE HOUSE
The gray sedan belonged to the executive transportation pool.
Twenty-two people had access.
Within an hour, that list had become nine.
By dawn, it became four.
Vincent.
Daniel Reeves.
A driver named Paul Brenner.
And Adrian’s cousin, Anthony Romano.
When Matteo said Anthony’s name, the room changed.
Adrian stopped drinking his coffee.
Mrs. Greco crossed herself.
I looked from one to the other.
“Who is Anthony?”
“My uncle’s son,” Adrian said.
“Does he work here?”
“Technically.”
Matteo snorted.
Adrian ignored him.
“Anthony supervises three warehouses.”
“And has access to company vehicles.”
“Yes.”
“Does he know Colton?”
Adrian’s silence gave me the answer.
Matteo leaned against the desk.
“They worked together years ago.”
“Then why is he still employed?”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“Family.”
It was one word.
It explained too much.
Sophia was sleeping upstairs with Mrs. Greco.
I had not slept at all.
At six in the morning, I stood in Adrian’s kitchen wearing yesterday’s clothes and holding coffee so strong it could probably dissolve metal.
“You protect family even when they’re dangerous?”
Adrian looked at me.
“I protect family until they give me a reason not to.”
“Maybe you’re too generous.”
Nobody in New York had probably ever accused Adrian Romano of excessive generosity.
Matteo laughed into his cup.
Adrian shot him a look.
“I’m beginning to understand why she hasn’t been fired from every job she’s ever had.”
“I have been fired.”
“Why?”
“I told a hotel manager that stealing employees’ tips was theft.”
Matteo smiled.
“And?”
“He said I was insubordinate.”
Adrian’s mouth curved.
“What did you say?”
“I told him he was correct.”
The smile became real.
Only for a moment.
Then the kitchen door opened.
Anthony Romano walked in.
He looked younger than Adrian, perhaps thirty-six, with expensive clothes and the kind of face that had probably never been denied much.
His eyes landed on me.
“So this is the maid.”
Adrian’s expression disappeared.
“Her name is Maria.”
Anthony raised both hands.
“My mistake.”
“You came quickly.”
“You said it was urgent.”
“It is.”
Anthony poured himself coffee without asking.
That told me more about family hierarchy than any explanation could.
Adrian placed the photograph from the daycare on the counter.
“You recognize him?”
Anthony glanced down.
“No.”
“Try again.”
“I said no.”
“The sedan belongs to our pool.”
“So?”
“You checked it out Monday.”
Anthony’s eyes lifted.
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Then Paul must’ve driven it.”
“Paul was in Newark.”
“Then maybe somebody borrowed it.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Who?”
Anthony looked amused.
“Is this an interrogation?”
“No.”
“What would you call it?”
“A courtesy before one.”
The smile vanished.
Anthony looked at me again.
“Because of her?”
I felt my shoulders tighten.
Adrian moved between us without making it obvious.
“No. Because someone followed a three-year-old child in my car.”
Anthony shrugged.
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“Where were you yesterday at three?”
“Warehouse.”
“Which one?”
“Brooklyn.”
Matteo said, “Security logs show you left at one forty.”
Anthony looked at him.
“You checking up on me now?”
“We’re checking everyone.”
“Because a cleaner claims Vincent stole some cash?”
I set my coffee down.
“I saw him.”
Anthony smiled.
“So I heard.”
Something in that smile resembled Vincent’s.
Not enough to prove anything.
Enough to make me dislike him.
Adrian noticed.
“What?”
I shook my head.
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
Anthony laughed.
“She doesn’t like me either?”
“No.”
I met his eyes.
“I think you already knew exactly what I accused Vincent of before you walked into this kitchen.”
The amusement vanished.
“I work here.”
“The staff hasn’t been told.”
Matteo straightened.
Adrian went still.
Anthony recovered.
“Vincent called me yesterday.”
“When?” Adrian asked.
“Before you locked him up.”
“Then show me.”
“What?”
“The call.”
Anthony took out his phone.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
His thumb moved.
Then stopped.
Adrian extended his hand.
Anthony stared at it.
A long second passed.
Then two.
Finally he handed over the phone.
Adrian checked the call log.
There was no call from Vincent yesterday.
Anthony’s face changed.
“Must’ve been through the office.”
Matteo’s phone vibrated.
He read the screen.
Then looked at Adrian.
“Anthony’s access badge opened the executive garage at two fifty-three yesterday.”
My pulse jumped.
Sophia’s daycare dismissed at three.
Anthony swore.
“You think I followed a kid?”
“I think someone using your badge took a car registered to us.”
“Then the badge was cloned.”
“Convenient.”
“You know me.”
Adrian looked at him for a long time.
“I used to.”
That landed.
Anthony shoved back from the counter.
“This is insane. Vincent’s been around longer than half the people in this house. A maid accuses him and suddenly we’re tearing through family records?”
“A maid told me the truth.”
Anthony’s mouth twisted.
“And now what? She sits at the table? Gets security? Maybe moves upstairs permanently?”
The implication was ugly.
I saw Adrian’s anger immediately.
He did not shout.
“Leave.”
Anthony blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Adrian—”
“You looked at a woman whose daughter was followed by someone using our property and decided your first instinct was to insult her.”
“I didn’t insult—”
“Leave.”
Anthony’s face flushed.
“You’re choosing her over blood?”
Adrian stepped closer.
“No. I’m choosing a frightened child over a grown man who thinks sharing my last name means he never has to answer questions.”
Anthony stared at him.
Then at me.
For the first time, I saw something beneath the arrogance.
Fear.
He walked out.
Matteo waited until the door closed.
“He’s involved.”
Adrian’s voice was hard.
“Maybe.”
“You don’t believe in coincidences.”
“No.”
“Then why maybe?”
“Because if Anthony is working with Colton, I want evidence before I move.”
I understood.
Family made facts harder, not easier.
I looked toward the ceiling.
“My daughter is upstairs.”
“She’s safe.”
“Today.”
Adrian heard the accusation.
He nodded once.
“Today.”
A few hours later, I was allowed to return to my apartment under guard to collect clothes.
Two SUVs followed us.
It felt absurd.
Sophia thought it was an adventure.
“Are we important now?”
“No.”
“Mr. Adrian has two cars.”
“That does not make us important.”
“He has guards.”
“So does the bank.”
“Is Mr. Adrian a bank?”
One of the guards coughed to hide a laugh.
When we reached Queens, my apartment door was closed.
Nothing looked wrong.
Then I saw the frame.
A fresh scratch near the lock.
The guard saw it too.
“Stay back.”
He entered first.
My living room looked normal.
The kitchen looked normal.
Sophia’s bedroom looked normal.
Mine did not.
My mattress had been slashed open.
Drawers emptied.
Closet overturned.
And pinned to the wall above my bed was a photograph.
Adrian.
Much younger.
Standing beside a black car.
Next to him stood a woman with dark hair and a bright smile.
Someone had drawn a red X over her face.
Underneath, written in black marker:
HE COULDN’T PROTECT HER EITHER.
I heard Adrian behind me.
He had arrived minutes after the guard called.
He stared at the photograph.
Every trace of color drained from his face.
“Who is she?” I whispered.
He did not answer.
Matteo did.
“Adrian’s sister.”
“What happened?”
Adrian walked forward and pulled the photograph from the wall.
“She was killed twelve years ago.”
My anger disappeared.
“What was her name?”
“Isabella.”
Sophia appeared behind the guard.
I turned immediately.
“Baby, stay in the hall.”
Too late.
She saw the destroyed room.
Her little face changed.
“Mommy?”
“I’m okay.”
“Did bad people do this?”
I crouched and opened my arms.
She ran to me.
Adrian stood behind us holding the picture of his dead sister.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Finally, Adrian said, “Say that again.”
His face turned colder than I had ever seen it.
He ended the call.
“What?” Matteo asked.
Adrian looked at me.
“Vincent is gone.”
I stared.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“He escaped.”
“How?”
“Someone inside the security team let him out.”
My arms tightened around Sophia.
Adrian looked at the message on my wall.
Then at his dead sister’s face.
“The theft wasn’t the beginning,” he said.
“What was?”
His eyes lifted.
May you like
“Someone has been waiting twelve years to finish what they started.”
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