Chapter 6 - THE ENVELOPE HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHT|
The next morning, I arrived at the Moretti mansion before sunrise.
I hadn't slept more than three hours.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Matthew standing in the hallway with that little brown envelope.
I remembered his tired smile.
His nervous glance toward the study.
And the way he lowered his voice when he asked me to make sure Luca received his message.
At the time, I thought he was dealing with an ordinary business disagreement.
Now I wondered whether he already knew somebody was watching him.
I stepped into the kitchen.
Mrs. Donnelly stood beside the stove, making coffee.
She turned when she heard me.
“Claire.”
“Good morning.”
She studied my face.
“You look exhausted.”
“I am.”
She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me.
“Then sit for a minute.”
I shook my head.
“I need to check the correspondence drawer.”
Her expression changed.
“The one beside the butler's pantry?”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Vanessa emptied it last night.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“Shortly before she left.”
I set down my coffee.
“Did you see what she took?”
“Several envelopes.”
“Did you recognize any?”
Mrs. Donnelly thought carefully.
“One was brown.”
My heart began racing.
“Was it small?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Vanessa had known exactly where to look.
“Where did she go afterward?”
“Into Luca's study.”
“And then?”
“She left through the front entrance.”
I felt sick.
The envelope might already be gone.
Destroyed.
Hidden.
Or passed to Adrian.
Mrs. Donnelly touched my arm.
“Claire, what was inside it?”
“I don't know.”
She frowned.
“Then perhaps it wasn't important.”
I looked at her.
“Matthew died the next day.”
Her expression softened.
“Then we should tell Luca.”
We went directly to his office.
He was already awake.
Daniel Mercer stood beside the desk, reviewing documents.
Luca looked up when we entered.
“Claire?”
I explained what Mrs. Donnelly had seen.
Daniel immediately asked whether the correspondence drawer was covered by security cameras.
Luca nodded.
“The corridor is.”
He called Marco.
Within minutes, we were reviewing footage from the previous evening.
Vanessa appeared on the screen at 11:47 p.m.
She walked toward the pantry.
Opened the drawer.
And removed several envelopes.
Then she looked directly toward the camera.
My stomach tightened.
She knew it was there.
But she didn't seem concerned.
She simply placed the envelopes inside her handbag and walked away.
Daniel leaned closer.
“Can we identify the envelope?”
Marco enlarged the image.
One corner of a brown envelope was visible.
Across the front, someone had written a name.
Luca.
My heart pounded.
“That's it.”
Daniel turned.
“Are you certain?”
I nodded.
“Matthew wrote Mr. Moretti's name in black ink.”
Luca remained silent.
Then he reached for his phone.
He called Detective Sullivan.
She listened carefully.
And told him to preserve the footage while investigators reviewed the circumstances under which Vanessa had taken the documents.
After the call, Luca stared at the frozen image.
“She took it.”
I swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”
He turned toward me.
“Why didn't you give it to me when Matthew asked?”
The question struck harder than I'd expected.
My cheeks burned.
“Because Vanessa told me she'd handle it.”
Luca said nothing.
I continued.
“She said you were busy.”
“She told me Matthew's business concerns weren't my responsibility.”
My voice trembled.
“And she reminded me that I needed this job.”
Luca's expression changed.
I looked down.
“I should have insisted.”
“No.”
His answer was immediate.
I looked up.
He stepped closer.
“I created a household where my employees were afraid to contradict Vanessa.”
His jaw tightened.
“That responsibility belongs to me.”
I felt tears rising.
“But Matthew trusted me.”
“And Vanessa abused that trust.”
He paused.
“We're going to find the envelope.”
I nodded.
But the guilt didn't disappear.
Sometimes learning that something wasn't entirely your responsibility didn't stop you wishing you'd made a different choice.
A little after seven, Olivia came downstairs carrying Emma.
She wore a comfortable gray sweater and had her hair tied loosely behind her head.
Her face looked tired.
But she'd eaten breakfast.
And she'd asked Mrs. Donnelly for a second cup of tea.
That alone felt like progress.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
Luca immediately stood.
“Olivia.”
She smiled faintly.
“I'm okay.”
He looked at Emma.
“How's my favorite niece?”
“She kept me awake until four.”
Luca grinned.
“Sounds like a Moretti.”
Olivia laughed.
For a brief moment, they looked like ordinary siblings.
Then her eyes moved toward the documents.
“Anything new?”
Luca hesitated.
She noticed.
“Please don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Decide what I can handle.”
He nodded.
Then told her about the envelope.
Olivia listened carefully.
When he finished, she looked toward me.
“Claire, what did Matthew say when he gave it to you?”
I closed my eyes.
“He said it was important.”
“Did he say why?”
I thought.
Then remembered a detail.
“He said you would recognize what was inside.”
Olivia frowned.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
She looked confused.
“Did he mention anything else?”
I hesitated.
“He said it was something from the first night you met.”
Olivia went completely still.
Luca noticed.
“What?”
She stared at me.
“The first night we met?”
I nodded.
Her eyes filled.
Then she gave a strange little laugh.
“Oh, Matthew.”
She sat slowly.
Luca moved closer.
“Olivia?”
She wiped her cheeks.
“Matthew and I met at the restaurant before it officially opened.”
“He invited me to help taste the menu.”
Her smile grew through tears.
“He was so nervous.”
“He burned the garlic bread.”
I smiled faintly.
She continued.
“At the end of the evening, he gave me a little paper menu.”
“He'd written something on the back.”
Luca leaned closer.
“What?”
Olivia's voice softened.
“If you ever need a place to belong, there's a seat here with your name on it.”
The room went quiet.
She touched Emma's blanket.
“I kept that menu.”
I felt my heart tighten.
“Where?”
“In our apartment.”
She looked at Luca.
“Inside the blue recipe binder.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“The apartment Vanessa had the locks changed on.”
Olivia nodded.
Suddenly, Matthew's mysterious instructions began making sense.
Maybe the envelope didn't contain the recording itself.
Maybe it pointed to something Olivia would recognize.
Something only she knew how to find.
Luca immediately called Detective Sullivan.
She arranged for an authorized search of the apartment, with Olivia's consent.
I accompanied Olivia and Eleanor later that morning.
Luca came too.
The apartment was on the third floor of a restored brick building near the river.
When Olivia stepped inside, she stopped.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she whispered, “It still smells like him.”
I looked around.
A pair of men's shoes stood beside the door.
A jacket hung from a hook.
Two coffee mugs sat upside down on the kitchen counter.
The apartment looked as though Matthew might walk in at any moment.
Olivia pressed a hand against her mouth.
Eleanor gently touched her shoulder.
“Sweetheart?”
Olivia shook her head.
“I need a minute.”
We waited.
Then she moved toward the kitchen.
“The binder is in that cabinet.”
She pointed.
An officer documented the area before opening it.
Inside were cookbooks, recipe cards, and a blue binder.
Olivia immediately recognized it.
“That's ours.”
She took a breath.
“Matthew and I kept all our favorite recipes in there.”
The investigator carefully examined the binder.
At first, it contained exactly what we'd expected.
Handwritten recipes.
Photographs of meals.
Little notes about family dinners.
Then we reached the back.
A folded paper menu slipped from the final sleeve.
Olivia gasped.
“That's it.”
She covered her mouth.
“The menu he gave me.”
The investigator placed it on the counter.
On the back was Matthew's handwriting.
The same romantic sentence Olivia had remembered.
But beneath it, in much smaller letters, were three numbers.
14.
06.
22.
Daniel frowned.
“A date?”
Olivia shook her head.
“No.”
She stared at the numbers.
Then her eyes widened.
“Those are the locker numbers.”
Everyone turned.
“What lockers?” Luca asked.
“At the restaurant.”
“Matthew and Adrian kept a private storage room near the kitchen.”
She swallowed.
“Matthew used to joke that his best recipes were safer than his bank account.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Are you saying there's a locker numbered fourteen?”
“Yes.”
“And six?”
“Yes.”
“And twenty-two?”
Olivia nodded.
“Those were the original staff lockers before the renovation.”
Luca looked toward the investigator.
“We need to check them.”
But Olivia suddenly reached for the menu.
“Wait.”
She looked more closely.
“There are tiny letters beside the numbers.”
The investigator used a magnifying glass.
Beneath the handwriting were three initials.
M.
E.
O.
Olivia began crying.
“Matthew.”
Luca frowned.
“What?”
She smiled through her tears.
“Those are our initials.”
Matthew.
Emma.
Olivia.
“He wrote Emma's name before she was born.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Daniel noticed something else.
A thin line of numbers had been printed along the bottom of the menu.
They weren't part of the restaurant's ordinary design.
They resembled an identification code.
Daniel photographed them.
“We'll need to check what this references.”
Before anyone could respond, Detective Sullivan's phone rang.
She stepped into the hallway.
When she returned, her expression was serious.
“Adrian Bellini's accountant has agreed to provide documents.”
Luca looked up.
“What documents?”
“Records of the company's recent financial transactions.”
“And?”
She hesitated.
“According to the accountant, Matthew confronted Adrian about unexplained transfers.”
Olivia gripped the counter.
Sullivan continued.
“Matthew was preparing to notify investigators.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Did Adrian know?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
The detective looked directly at Olivia.
“The afternoon before your husband's death.”
Olivia closed her eyes.
Then Sullivan added another detail.
“The accountant says Adrian called someone immediately after the confrontation.”
“Who?” Luca asked.
The detective glanced at her notes.
“Vanessa.”
I felt cold all over.
Then Olivia whispered, “That's why she wanted the apartment.”
Everyone turned.
“She wasn't trying to make me independent.”
Tears slid down her cheeks.
“She was trying to find what Matthew left behind before I did.”
And when the investigator opened the final sleeve of the recipe binder, we found something Vanessa had missed.
A small handwritten note.
May you like
It contained one sentence.
“If Adrian says I sold my shares, ask him why he needed my signature twice.”
Related Stories
