Chapter 8 - THE FAMILY BUSINESS|
The financial investigation changed everything.
Within two weeks, a forensic accounting team had identified a network of companies connected to Dominic Moretti and Vanessa Bellini.
Some were legitimate businesses.
Others appeared to exist mainly to receive payments, issue invoices, and move money between accounts.
Bennett Home Services was among them.
My name had been used to create the company, but the funds had never entered an account I controlled.
Eleanor explained that investigators were comparing signatures, banking records, and authorization documents to establish who had actually operated it.
For the first time since seeing my name in the ledger, I believed I might be able to sleep without dreaming about prison.
Luca, however, was sleeping less than ever.
He had ordered an independent review of the family's charitable and commercial accounts.
What the accountants found was worse than he expected.
Millions had been moved out of Mrs. Elena's foundation through contracts for consulting, equipment, and property development.
The real kitchen had been struggling to afford flour.
Meanwhile, companies connected to Dominic were charging enormous fees for services that had never been provided.
When Luca confronted his uncle, Dominic requested a private meeting at an Italian restaurant downtown.
I learned about it afterward, when Luca returned to the mansion looking as though he had aged ten years.
He found me packing the last of my personal belongings from the staff quarters.
I had decided not to return to work while Vanessa remained in the house.
Luca had accepted my decision without argument.
"What did your uncle say?" I asked.
He loosened his tie.
"He told me our family has always survived because we know which problems to bury."
I closed my suitcase.
"And what did you tell him?"
"That my mother isn't a problem."
He sat in the armchair beside the window.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
"Dominic knows things about my businesses that could destroy everything I've built."
I looked at him carefully.
"What kind of things?"
Luca met my eyes.
"Things I should have stopped."
The honesty frightened me more than a polished denial would have.
Everyone in Chicago knew the Moretti name.
People whispered about protection payments, illegal gambling, and disputes that ended without police reports.
I had spent five years pretending those whispers belonged to another world.
But I was standing in the middle of that world now.
"If telling the truth about Dominic means telling the truth about yourself," I asked, "will you still do it?"
Luca looked away.
"I don't know what it will cost."
"Neither did your mother."
He turned back toward me.
"Claire."
"She knew somebody was stealing from people who needed help."
My throat tightened.
"She was scared, and she tried anyway."
I could tell he wanted to argue.
Instead, he nodded slowly.
"You're right."
The following day, Luca met with his attorneys and independent auditors.
He agreed to preserve records, cooperate with lawful requests, and examine the criminal activity associated with businesses he had allowed Dominic to manage.
I didn't mistake that decision for instant redemption.
Luca had built a life in which fear was useful.
Changing it would require more than one good choice.
It would require confronting the harm done by choices he had made for years.
That evening, Gabriel brought him a folder recovered from Dominic's former accounting office.
The folder had been provided voluntarily by Evelyn Clark, an accountant who had recently left Dominic's employment after becoming concerned about irregular transfers.
Evelyn had kept copies of correspondence she believed could prove she had questioned the payments.
One email was dated three weeks before Mrs. Elena's death.
It had been sent from Vanessa's business account to Dominic.
The subject line read:
Foundation exposure.
The message warned that Elena was demanding access to the original account records.
Vanessa insisted that the problem had to be resolved before Elena contacted independent auditors.
Another message referred to the medical appointments Elena had been requesting.
Luca read it twice.
Then he handed it to Eleanor, who had come to meet with us.
She immediately arranged for the material to be passed to Detective Torres, together with information about how Evelyn had retained it.
Nobody wanted to risk compromising evidence by treating it as a private family possession.
I watched Luca walk toward the fireplace.
For a moment, he stared at the flames.
Then he turned them off.
"I can't stand looking at that thing anymore."
I understood.
The fireplace had once warmed his mother's kitchen.
Now it was the place where somebody had tried to erase her final words.
Gabriel entered quietly.
"There's another development, sir."
Luca turned.
"What?"
"Someone has been asking about the security arrangements at the Open Table building."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
"An employee connected to Bellini Development."
Gabriel hesitated.
"They asked about the volunteer schedule, delivery entrances, and whether the kitchen had overnight security."
Luca immediately instructed him to inform Detective Torres and the property managers.
Then he looked at me.
"Claire, call Rosa."
I reached for my phone.
She answered on the fourth ring.
"Hello, sweetheart."
"Rosa, is everything all right?"
"Of course."
I could hear dishes clattering in the background.
"We're preparing tomorrow's meals."
I asked her to make sure everyone understood the concern and followed the police's advice.
She promised she would.
Before hanging up, she laughed softly.
"Tell Luca his mother would be proud that he's finally paying attention to something besides money."
I smiled.
"I will."
But several hours later, while I was staying at the secure apartment, my phone rang again.
This time, Rosa wasn't laughing.
Her voice was barely audible over the sound of shouting.
"Claire!"
I stood so quickly that my chair fell backward.
"Rosa, what's happening?"
"The kitchen!"
There was a crash.
Then someone screamed.
"There's smoke everywhere!"
The call disconnected.
I stared at my phone.
And the first thought that entered my mind was so terrible that I nearly dropped it.
May you like
Vanessa had tried to burn Mrs. Elena's recipe book.
Now somebody was burning the place where her recipes had fed thousands of people.
