Chapter 4
Claire hired a forensic accountant named Evelyn Shaw.
Evelyn had no connection to the Montoro family and no interest in their history.
Raffaele found that irritating for approximately ten minutes.
Then he realized it was useful.
She requested three years of event invoices, staffing records, vendor contracts and payment approvals.
Marcus’s attorney objected immediately.
Claire answered through formal channels.
Delia called it humiliation.
Raffaele did not answer her.
Evelyn found the first problem by the end of the week.
Montoro Event Services had paid a staffing company called Metropolitan Hospitality Group nearly $740,000 over eighteen months.
Head count on the invoices repeatedly exceeded the number of workers recorded entering the penthouse through building service logs.
Sometimes by two.
Sometimes by five.
Once by eleven.
“Who approved these?” Raffaele asked.
Evelyn turned the laptop.
Marcus Vale.
“Who verified them?”
“Usually Delia.”
Raffaele leaned back.
“That sounds simple.”
“It usually isn’t.”
She showed him legitimate charges mixed throughout the questionable ones.
Real cooks.
Real servers.
Real overtime.
If someone had been inflating invoices, they had done it inside otherwise normal operations.
Claire added:
“And because this is a private company, not a public charity, there was less independent review.”
Raffaele looked toward Sofia.
She had agreed to attend the meeting but sat away from him.
Her hands were improving.
Their marriage was not.
Evelyn asked her directly:
“Did you ever approve staff reductions?”
“No.”
“Did you ever agree to replace paid employees yourself?”
“No.”
“Did you know the invoices still reflected full staffing?”
Sofia hesitated.
“Not until recently.”
Raffaele looked at her.
That answer was different.
Evelyn noticed too.
“How recently?”
“Three months.”
Raffaele sat forward.
“You knew?”
Sofia met his eyes.
“I knew something was wrong.”
“How?”
She glanced toward Claire.
“I’d rather show you.”
That evening she took them to the service pantry.
Behind rarely used banquet linens sat a plain spiral notebook.
Inside were dates, scheduled head counts, actual head counts, early departures and notes written in Sofia’s handwriting.
Raffaele stared at three months of entries.
“You’ve been tracking them.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you give me this?”
May you like
Sofia closed the notebook.
“Because I didn’t know who you would protect first.”
