Chapter 3 - Sofia's Last Phone
The forensic specialist arrived at seven the following morning.
His name was Aaron Pike.
Nora had used him in corporate investigations for nearly a decade.
He worked in a locked study while Vittorio remained upstairs with Elsie.
Marcus had left the mansion during the night.
Helena had not.
She had locked herself inside the east guest suite and refused to speak to anyone.
Vittorio ordered security not to prevent either of them from leaving.
He wanted to know where they would go.
At 9:14 a.m., Aaron called Nora.
The phone had powered successfully.
It was encrypted.
But the cloud account connected to it was recoverable.
By eleven, they had access to partial backups.
Vittorio entered the study alone.
Aaron rotated the laptop.
"Most recent backup was two days before Mrs. Moretti died."
"What do you have?"
"Photographs, messages, voice notes, documents. Some deleted material too."
Vittorio stared at the screen.
The first photograph showed Sofia holding Elsie near the mansion fountain.
Her smile nearly broke him.
He had liked Sofia from the day Marcus brought her home.
She had never been intimidated by the Moretti name.
When Vittorio attempted to pay for their wedding, Sofia had said, "You can buy the flowers, but you're not buying the marriage."
He had laughed for ten minutes.
After Sofia died, he had been so consumed by Elsie's grief that he had barely examined his own.
Aaron opened a folder labeled Private.
Inside were photographs of financial statements.
Wire transfers.
Invoices.
Emails.
Nora leaned closer.
"This looks like Moretti Consolidated documentation."
"It is."
Vittorio recognized vendor names.
Several were unfamiliar.
One document showed twelve million dollars transferred over eighteen months to consulting companies based in Delaware and Nevada.
"Marcus authorized these."
Nora nodded.
"And Helena countersigned two."
Aaron opened another file.
It was a photograph taken through a partially open office door.
Marcus stood with Dr. Bell.
A handwritten note beneath the photo read:
Howard agreed. V will be declared impaired before annual vote.
Vittorio said nothing.
Nora looked at him.
"She knew."
"Apparently."
Another image showed an unsigned medical affidavit.
The document described Vittorio as experiencing progressive memory decline and diminished executive capacity.
Aaron scrolled.
"They were preparing to challenge control of the company."
Nora shook her head.
"Not only the company. If Vittorio were declared incompetent, certain family trusts could be restructured."
Including Elsie's.
Vittorio stared at his son's signature.
The betrayal should have shocked him.
Instead, something more painful occurred.
He began remembering every moment he had explained away.
Marcus urging him to retire.
Helena insisting he attend unnecessary medical appointments.
Documents appearing on his desk that he could not remember requesting.
Whispers ending when he entered rooms.
"There's more," Aaron said.
He opened a voice recording.
Sofia's voice filled the study.
"If you're hearing this, I was right to be afraid."
Vittorio gripped the edge of the desk.
Sofia continued.
"I don't know how far Marcus is involved. I know Helena is moving money through three vendors and using Marcus's authorization. I confronted him tonight. He told me to stay out of family business. Helena told me accidents happen to women who confuse marriage with ownership."
Nora's eyes shifted toward Vittorio.
The recording continued.
"I've copied everything I could. I am leaving Marcus. I am taking Elsie. I'm going to tell Vittorio tomorrow because he deserves to know what they've been doing."
A pause.
Sofia breathed unevenly.
"If I fail, the blue key is for locker 314 at Grand Central. The locker receipt is under Elsie's winter books. Vittorio will understand why I used the blue bird."
The recording ended.
No one moved.
Vittorio lowered himself into a chair.
"She was going to tell me."
Nora placed a hand on his shoulder.
"She tried."
Aaron opened the metadata.
"The recording was made at 10:48 p.m. the night before the crash."
Vittorio looked toward the window.
Sofia's car had gone through the guardrail at 7:32 the next morning.
Less than nine hours later.
"There's another file," Aaron said.
A text draft.
Unsent.
Addressed to Vittorio.
I was wrong about Marcus. Meet me alone. Do not tell Helena. If I don't arrive, go to 314 first.
Vittorio stared at the unfinished message.
The phone contained no records after 6:41 a.m. the morning of Sofia's death.
But Aaron found one additional item.
A deleted photograph recovered from temporary storage.
It had been taken in the mansion garage at 6:12 a.m.
The photograph showed the rear of Sofia's car.
A man's legs were visible beside the driver's side.
Gray trousers.
Black shoes.
On the wrist of the hand reaching toward the car was a distinctive silver watch.
Marcus owned that watch.
Vittorio knew because he had given it to him on his thirtieth birthday.
Nora leaned forward.
"That doesn't prove he touched the vehicle."
"No."
Vittorio's voice sounded empty.
"But it proves he was near it."
Aaron zoomed in.
Something else appeared beneath the car.
A small black tool case.
Vittorio stood.
"Get the key."
Nora nodded.
"Where are you going?"
"Grand Central."
"Not alone."
"I'm not planning to."
An hour later, Vittorio, Nora and Owen Grant drove into Manhattan.
Nobody told Marcus.
Nobody told Helena.
Locker 314 was located in an older private storage section connected to the terminal's long-term baggage facility.
The blue key turned easily.
Vittorio opened the metal door.
Inside sat a single white box.
On top was an envelope.
VITTORIO was written across it in Sofia's handwriting.
He opened the envelope first.
The note contained only four lines.
Vittorio,
If you found this, protect Elsie before you protect the company.
Marcus is frightened.
Helena is dangerous.
And beneath the letter was a photograph.
It showed Helena standing beside a man Vittorio had never seen before.
They were in a parking garage.
Helena was handing him an envelope.
On the back, Sofia had written a name.
Mason Reed.
May you like
Below it:
Ask what he did to my brakes.
