Chapter 3
The next morning, Sofia sat in an urgent-care clinic on the Upper East Side while a physician dressed the worst cracks in her hands.
Raffaele waited beside Lily in the hallway.
His phone never stopped vibrating.
Delia.
Marcus.
Two cousins.
The penthouse event manager.
His business attorney.
He ignored everyone except attorney Claire Donnelly.
When he explained Samuel’s staffing sheets, Claire’s response was blunt.
“Don’t accuse anyone of stealing yet.”
“Twelve people billed. Seven people worked.”
“That’s a discrepancy. It isn’t proof of who caused it.”
“What do I do?”
“Preserve records. Remove anyone involved from approval authority. Bring in an outside accountant.”
Raffaele disliked outside people inside family matters.
Claire knew it.
“That instinct is exactly why you need one.”
He authorized it.
By noon, Marcus and Delia lost access to the penthouse event accounts.
The consequences came immediately.
Three upcoming family events could not confirm catering.
A staffing agency threatened to stop supplying workers.
Two vendors said Marcus was the only person they dealt with.
Raffaele canceled the next event rather than restore his authority.
Then he went home.
Sofia was sitting at the kitchen island wearing soft cotton gloves over medicated cream.
Raffaele pulled out the chair across from her.
“You said you tried to tell me.”
She nodded.
“When?”
“February.”
“I don’t remember.”
“I know.”
That hurt.
Sofia unlocked her phone.
The message was still there.
Can we please stop having Delia supervise me at events? She keeps sending staff home and telling me to finish their work. I’m serious, Raff.
His reply appeared beneath it.
Delia gets intense before parties. Don’t let her get under your skin. I’ll talk to her after this week.
He had never talked to her.
Raffaele read it again.
“I thought you two were fighting over control of the house.”
“We were.”
Sofia looked at him.
“But only one of us already had it.”
He had no defense.
“Why keep doing the work?”
“At first because if I didn’t, Samuel and everyone else stayed until two in the morning.”
“And later?”
Sofia pulled off one glove.
Her hand was still raw.
“Later Delia started saying she’d replace anyone who complained.”
Raffaele’s jaw tightened.
“You should have told me again.”
“I did.”
She slid another message across the screen.
Then another.
Some were indirect.
Some were obvious now that he knew what they meant.
He had answered most with some version of:
I’ll handle it.
Give me a few days.
Don’t fight with Delia tonight.
Raffaele stared at his own words.
May you like
He had not failed to receive the warning.
He had failed to treat it as one.
