Chapter 8 - THE RECORDING MATTHEW LEFT FOR HIS DAUGHTER|
The memory card was smaller than my thumbnail.
I stared at it while an evidence technician placed it inside a protective container.
Something so tiny might contain the answers Olivia had spent months desperately searching for.
But it couldn't give Emma her father back.
That was the cruelest part.
Even if every lie were exposed, Matthew would still be gone.
Olivia understood that better than anyone.
She sat beside me in the restaurant's small private dining room, holding the photograph Teresa had given her.
Matthew smiled from the picture.
His arm was wrapped around Olivia's waist.
And the tiny baby shoes he held seemed impossibly small.
“He was so happy,” she whispered.
I looked at her.
“He looks happy.”
She nodded.
“When I told him I was pregnant, he cried.”
Her smile trembled.
“He tried to pretend something was in his eye.”
I laughed softly.
She wiped her cheeks.
“He kept asking whether I was sure.”
“Sure about what?”
“That we were having a baby.”
She shook her head.
“As though the pregnancy test might change its mind.”
For a moment, we both laughed.
Then Olivia looked down.
“He'll never hear Emma laugh.”
My heart tightened.
“He'll never teach her to ride a bike.”
She pressed the photograph against her chest.
“He'll never walk her to school.”
I didn't know what to say.
There were no words capable of making that loss smaller.
So I sat beside her.
Sometimes comfort meant accepting that someone's pain couldn't be solved.
After a few minutes, she looked at me.
“Claire?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think Emma will know him?”
I took a breath.
“I think she can.”
Olivia frowned.
“How?”
“Through stories.”
“Photographs.”
“The people who loved him.”
I smiled gently.
“And through everything you tell her.”
Olivia looked toward the photograph.
“She has his eyes.”
“Yes.”
“And his little crooked smile.”
I smiled.
“Then he'll always be part of her.”
She began crying again.
But this time, she didn't look ashamed.
Later that afternoon, Detective Sullivan contacted Luca.
Investigators had preserved the memory card and were examining its contents.
There were financial records.
Copies of contracts.
Photographs of documents.
And several audio recordings.
One file had been named simply:
For Luca.
Another was labeled:
For Olivia and Emma.
When Luca told his sister, she became very still.
“He left something for us?”
“Yes.”
“Can I hear it?”
“The detective wants to preserve the original file first.”
Olivia nodded.
“Of course.”
Then she whispered, “Please tell me when.”
That evening, she sat beside Luca in his study.
Eleanor held Emma nearby.
I stood near the doorway, prepared to leave.
But Olivia looked at me.
“Claire, stay.”
I nodded.
Detective Sullivan had arranged for them to hear a working copy of the personal recording after the original evidence was secured.
She explained that some of the files could later become relevant to the investigation.
Then she pressed play.
Matthew's voice filled the room.
“Okay.”
He laughed nervously.
“I have absolutely no idea how to make one of these messages.”
Olivia covered her mouth.
The sound of her husband's voice hit her like a physical blow.
“Oh, Matthew.”
He continued.
“Olivia, sweetheart, if you're listening to this, I hope it's because I finally worked up the nerve to show you how sentimental I've become.”
A faint rustling sound followed.
Then he laughed again.
“I know you're going to make fun of me.”
Olivia began crying.
Luca reached for her hand.
Matthew's voice softened.
“I wanted to record something for our daughter.”
“I keep thinking about all the things I want to tell her.”
“How to make pancakes.”
“How to throw a baseball.”
“How to tell when somebody is lying about enjoying my cooking.”
Olivia laughed through tears.
Then Matthew paused.
“I don't know whether we're having a boy or a girl yet.”
“But I already love this baby more than I thought it was possible to love someone I haven't met.”
Eleanor began sobbing quietly.
Matthew continued.
“And Olivia?”
His voice grew tender.
“If our child ever asks what kind of woman you are, I want you to tell them the truth.”
“You're the bravest person I've ever known.”
“You make ordinary days feel like something worth celebrating.”
“And if our child grows up with even half your kindness, the world will be better because they're in it.”
Olivia bent forward.
She cried so hard Luca wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
The recording continued.
“I hope we're listening to this together someday.”
“I hope we're old and embarrassing our children at family dinners.”
“I hope you still steal the blankets.”
He laughed softly.
“And I hope you never forget that marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Emma made a tiny sound in Eleanor's arms.
Olivia looked toward her daughter.
Then she whispered, “That's your daddy, sweetheart.”
Her voice broke.
“That's his voice.”
I turned away.
Tears were running down my cheeks.
For months, Vanessa had told Olivia that grief made her weak.
That crying made her unstable.
That needing support made her a burden.
But sitting there, listening to Matthew speak, I saw something entirely different.
A woman who had lost almost everything.
And who was still finding the strength to love her daughter.
Luca waited until Olivia was ready before asking Detective Sullivan about the other recording.
The detective nodded.
“This next file appears to contain a business conversation.”
She pressed play.
At first, there was only background noise.
Then Matthew spoke.
“Adrian, these numbers don't make sense.”
Another voice answered.
“You're overreacting.”
It was Adrian Bellini.
Matthew continued.
“Three million dollars doesn't disappear because of an accounting mistake.”
Adrian sighed.
“I told you the money was transferred for expansion.”
“Then show me the invoices.”
“Matthew—”
“Show me.”
A chair scraped against the floor.
Then Vanessa's voice entered.
“Can we please stop pretending this is a criminal investigation?”
Luca went completely still.
Matthew answered.
“It might become one.”
There was a long silence.
Then Adrian spoke.
“You'd really destroy our business over paperwork?”
Matthew's voice hardened.
“It's not paperwork.”
“It's money that doesn't belong to you.”
Vanessa laughed coldly.
“You're being dramatic.”
“No.”
Matthew sounded furious.
“I'm being careful.”
He continued.
“And don't think I haven't noticed how conveniently your names appear on every questionable transaction.”
Another pause.
Then Adrian said something that changed the atmosphere.
“You should think about Olivia.”
Matthew answered immediately.
“Don't bring my wife into this.”
“She's pregnant.”
“I know.”
“She doesn't need stress.”
Matthew's voice became dangerously calm.
“Then stop threatening my family.”
Luca leaned forward.
The recording continued.
Vanessa spoke softly.
“Nobody's threatening anyone.”
Matthew laughed bitterly.
“Then why did Adrian ask me to sign away my shares?”
Adrian answered.
“Because you're holding the expansion back.”
“I'm protecting the company.”
“You're destroying it.”
Matthew's voice rose.
“I'm going to the authorities tomorrow.”
Silence.
Then Vanessa whispered:
“You don't want to do that.”
Matthew replied.
“Watch me.”
The recording ended.
Nobody moved.
Olivia stared at the desk.
Her hands were trembling.
Luca looked toward Detective Sullivan.
“Does that prove they killed him?”
The detective shook her head.
“No.”
“But it establishes a serious financial dispute and statements that warrant investigation.”
Olivia nodded slowly.
She looked devastated.
But determined.
“What happens next?”
“We examine the other evidence.”
“We review the accident reconstruction.”
“And we speak with everyone involved.”
Luca's phone vibrated before she finished.
He looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
A message appeared.
Stop digging into Matthew's death.
Below it was a photograph.
I leaned closer.
It showed Olivia leaving the restaurant earlier that afternoon.
I was standing beside her.
Someone had taken the picture from across the street.
My stomach dropped.
Then another message appeared.
The maid is becoming a problem.
Luca immediately handed the phone to Sullivan.
She photographed the message.
Olivia reached for my hand.
“Claire?”
I tried to smile.
“I'm okay.”
But then my own phone rang.
It was my mother.
I answered.
“Mom?”
Her voice trembled.
“Claire, honey, there's a man outside the apartment.”
My blood turned cold.
“What man?”
“I don't know.”
“He's been sitting in a black car for almost an hour.”
I looked toward Luca.
He immediately stood.
“What's wrong?”
I could barely speak.
“Someone's watching my mother.”
Then she whispered something that made my knees weaken.
“Claire, he just came to the door.”
I heard knocking.
Three slow knocks.
Then a man's voice spoke in the background.
“Mrs. Bennett?”
My mother began crying.
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“He says Vanessa Bellini sent him.”
And before I could warn her not to open the door, the line went dead.
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