Chapter 3
The kitchen staff interviews began Monday.
Claire hired an outside employment attorney to conduct them.
Raffaele was not allowed in the room.
Neither was Delia.
Employees were told their jobs would not be affected by what they said.
Some still refused to speak at first.
That told Raffaele more about the estate than he wanted to know.
By the third day, stories began emerging.
Delia had ordered Sofia to help serve family dinners four times.
Once she carried coffee.
Once she cleared plates.
Twice she was told to help in the kitchen.
Sofia protested every time.
Delia always produced a reason supposedly originating from Raffaele.
“He wants you to understand the staff.”
“He doesn’t want you acting like a princess.”
“He says you embarrass him when you refuse family customs.”
The statements were inconsistent.
Sofia noticed.
But each time she brought the subject to Raffaele, the timing somehow worked against her.
She approached him after a brutal business day.
Or during travel.
Or immediately after a family argument.
Delia would already have spoken with him.
“She’s struggling with the transition.”
“She thinks I hate her.”
“She’s sensitive about her background.”
So when Sofia complained, Raffaele heard the conversation Delia had prepared him to hear.
Not the one Sofia was actually having.
That realization sickened him.
The outside attorney found something else.
The humiliations occurred almost exclusively during major family gatherings.
Not ordinary evenings.
Not quiet weekends.
Events with senior relatives present.
At one dinner, Delia made Sofia refill wine while guests were seated.
At another, she ordered Sofia to carry serving trays from the kitchen even though paid servers were available.
“Why?” Claire asked Anthony.
The kitchen manager looked embarrassed.
“Mrs. Delia said family needed to see Mrs. Sofia wasn’t above work.”
“Did Sofia agree?”
“No.”
“Did you object?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Anthony swallowed.
“I was shown a household directive with Mr. Raffaele’s initials.”
Raffaele looked at Claire after the interview.
“My initials?”
“Not your signature.”
“But enough.”
“For people trained not to question you, apparently.”
First clue.
Delia did not humiliate Sofia privately.
She repeatedly made sure the family saw it.
That suggested something beyond personal dislike.
Raffaele wanted to confront her.
Claire refused.
“We’re collecting facts.”
“She made my wife perform for an audience.”
“Yes.”
“She used my name.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m supposed to wait?”
“You spent forty-nine years becoming a man people fear disappointing.”
Claire closed the file.
“Try becoming a man who can tolerate not knowing everything for forty-eight hours.”
Raffaele nearly threw her out.
Instead, he waited.
That evening Sofia finally explained why Delia’s class insults cut so deeply.
Sofia’s father had owned a small neighborhood restaurant outside Pittsburgh.
Her mother waited tables there.
Sofia spent her teenage years washing dishes, running food, checking deliveries, and doing homework near the walk-in refrigerator.
She had never been ashamed of it.
Delia made her ashamed anyway.
“She kept saying I knew what I was good for.”
Raffaele looked at her bandages.
“You should have told me that exact sentence.”
Sofia stared at him.
“I shouldn’t have needed the perfect sentence for my husband to believe something was wrong.”
May you like
He had no answer.
Because she was right.
