Chapter 4
Bianca did not panic.
That made her more dangerous.
She straightened her dress.
Smoothed one sleeve.
Then looked directly at Vittorio.
“Elena was sick.”
His eyes hardened.
“She was dying, Vittorio. She was frightened. Suspicious.”
Emma stared at her.
“She named you.”
“She named everyone.”
Bianca turned toward Vittorio.
“You remember those months.”
Her voice softened.
Calculated.
“Elena thought nurses were poisoning her. She thought Marcus was stealing. She thought you were hiding meetings from her.”
Vittorio’s jaw tightened.
Some of that was true.
Elena had become anxious near the end.
Pain medication.
Sleeplessness.
Fear.
Bianca saw the hesitation.
And pressed.
“You know she wasn't herself.”
Marcus finally relaxed against the wall.
Power shifted back toward them.
Bianca stepped closer.
“You’re going to destroy every relationship in this house because Emma copied one frightened woman’s private recording?”
Vittorio looked at the phone.
Elena’s voice had reopened something he had spent eighteen months burying.
Doubt.
Not about Bianca.
About himself.
Had he dismissed Elena too?
He remembered her saying:
Marcus is moving money strangely.
Bianca asks too many questions about Lucy’s schedule.
Something feels wrong.
He had answered with the same sentence every time.
You need rest.
His hand slowly closed.
Bianca saw it.
She lowered her voice.
“I was Elena’s closest friend.”
That was true.
Before Bianca became Vittorio’s fiancée, she had been Elena’s friend for nearly seven years.
She sat through chemotherapy appointments.
Brought meals.
Held Lucy when Elena was too weak.
After Elena died, Bianca remained.
At first for Lucy.
Then for Vittorio.
That history had protected her from suspicion better than any bodyguard.
Vittorio finally spoke.
“Play the rest.”
Emma shook her head.
“That’s all I copied.”
Marcus laughed.
“One broken sentence.”
Then a bodyguard entered holding something inside a clear evidence pouch.
“Boss.”
Vittorio looked.
A charred piece of green velvet.
Found inside an old outdoor fireplace behind the guesthouse.
The case.
Burned.
But not completely.
The metal hinge still carried a serial number matching Elena’s storage inventory.
Marcus stopped smiling.
Vittorio looked at Bianca.
Bianca’s eyes did not move toward the burned case.
They moved toward Marcus.
Again.
Then the bodyguard added:
“We found something inside the ashes.”
May you like
A partially melted digital recorder.
And its memory module was still intact.
