Chapter 4 - SOFIA’S LAST MESSAGELorenzo ordered Sofia’s medical records brought to the mansion before noon.
It felt like a crime scene.
Guards stood at every entrance.
Phones had been collected.
Staff members were separated into different rooms.
The kitchen had been sealed.
Every person who had entered Leo’s nursery during the previous month was being questioned.
And I was sitting on Lorenzo Rossi’s bed with his son sleeping against my chest.
Not because I wanted to be there.
Because Lorenzo had refused to let Leo remain in the nursery.
His bedroom was the only room in the mansion with a security system separate from the household network.
No nurses.
No prepared bottles.
No visitors.
Just Lorenzo, me and Marco outside the door.
It should have felt safer.
Instead, I kept thinking about the four names.
Evelyn Price.
Dr. Hayes.
Bianca Rossi.
And Lorenzo’s mother, Isabella.
Four people with access to the deleted footage.
Four people trusted enough to reach a child almost nobody else was allowed to touch.
Lorenzo stood at the window staring across the snowy estate.
“You should sleep,” I said.
“So should you.”
“I tried.”
“You kept checking his breathing.”
“So did you.”
He looked at me.
I expected him to deny it.
He didn’t.
Leo moved between us.
The sound instantly pulled Lorenzo closer.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
“Can I?”
I understood.
Carefully, I shifted Leo into his arms.
Lorenzo held his son like a man handling something made of glass.
It surprised me.
Nothing about Lorenzo Rossi appeared gentle.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair, an old scar running from his jaw toward his neck and the watchful stillness of someone accustomed to violence.
But with Leo, his hands trembled.
“He knows you,” I said.
Lorenzo looked down.
“He barely looks at me.”
“He looked at you earlier.”
“He was looking toward my voice.”
“That counts.”
Lorenzo rubbed one finger over Leo’s tiny hand.
“My wife would have known what to do.”
“You think that because she’s gone.”
His eyes lifted.
I immediately regretted speaking.
Then he said, “Explain.”
“When someone dies, we turn them into someone who would have had every answer.”
He watched me.
“You do that with your daughter?”
Pain caught beneath my ribs.
“My daughter never got the chance to have answers.”
Lorenzo’s voice softened.
“What was her name?”
“Lily.”
“How old?”
I shook my head.
He understood.
His face changed.
“She never breathed?”
“No.”
He looked down at Leo.
“I’m sorry.”
This time I believed him.
Before I could respond, someone knocked.
Marco entered.
“Tests are underway. Dr. Hayes wants to draw new blood from Leo.”
Lorenzo immediately tensed.
“Why?”
“To compare current levels.”
I said, “He should.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“He’s already weak.”
“Which is why you need facts.”
Marco glanced between us.
Something about his expression suggested nobody normally challenged Lorenzo and survived breakfast.
Lorenzo finally nodded.
“Bring Hayes here.”
The doctor arrived with portable equipment.
He seemed offended by the guard assigned to watch every movement he made.
“I’ve treated your family for twelve years,” he told Lorenzo.
“Then you understand why I expect perfection.”
“I understand suspicion. There is a difference.”
Hayes carefully drew blood.
Leo cried.
The sound pierced me.
Without thinking, I reached for him.
So did Lorenzo.
Our hands touched.
We both stopped.
Then Lorenzo withdrew first.
I comforted Leo.
Hayes watched.
“You lactated recently?” he asked.
My face warmed.
“Yes.”
“Any medications?”
“No.”
“Nicotine? Drugs? Alcohol?”
“No.”
“Health conditions?”
“No.”
Lorenzo said, “Test her anyway.”
I snapped my head toward him.
“What?”
“For Leo’s safety.”
“You could have asked.”
“I am asking.”
“After ordering it.”
His mouth tightened.
Hayes looked as though he wished to disappear.
Then Lorenzo surprised me.
“You’re right.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“I should have asked.”
There was an awkward pause.
“May we test your blood?” he said.
I almost smiled despite myself.
“Yes.”
Hayes took a sample.
When he finished, Marco approached Lorenzo quietly.
“Your mother wants to see you.”
“No.”
“She says it’s urgent.”
“Everything is urgent today.”
“She specifically asked about Ms. Bennett.”
I froze.
Lorenzo’s eyes sharpened.
I had never met Isabella Rossi.
But apparently she knew exactly who I was.
“Bring her,” Lorenzo said.
Five minutes later, Isabella entered.
She was nearly seventy, silver-haired and immaculately dressed despite the early hour.
Two things struck me immediately.
First, she looked nothing like a frightened grandmother.
Second, when she saw Leo in my arms, she started crying.
Not dramatically.
Her face simply collapsed.
“My God.”
She stepped toward us.
Lorenzo moved between us.
“Stop.”
Isabella stared at her son.
“You think I harmed my grandson?”
“I think someone did.”
“And therefore your mother is guilty?”
“Your access code was used.”
“My access code has been unchanged for six years.”
“Who knows it?”
“You. Bianca. Marco.”
Marco stiffened.
“And your late wife,” Isabella added.
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
“Sofia is dead.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then somebody used your code.”
Isabella looked at me.
“So you’re the woman.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“The staff has been talking.”
“In the last four hours?”
“People always talk.”
She studied Leo.
“He looks better.”
“He ate.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Tears returned to Isabella’s eyes.
Then she whispered something unexpected.
“Sofia tried to breastfeed him.”
Lorenzo went still.
“She couldn’t,” Isabella continued. “She was too ill after the delivery.”
“Why are you telling us this?”
“Because three days before she died, Sofia told me she didn’t trust Evelyn.”
The room changed.
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“What did you say?”
“She said Evelyn kept taking Leo away unnecessarily.”
“You never told me.”
“Sofia was heavily medicated. She suspected everyone.”
“She was my wife.”
“And you were already losing her.”
“That was my decision to make.”
Isabella looked genuinely ashamed.
“I thought I was protecting you.”
Lorenzo’s anger became almost physical.
“From information about my son?”
“I made a mistake.”
“What exactly did Sofia say?”
Isabella closed her eyes, remembering.
“She said, ‘Evelyn keeps saying the baby is sick, but he only gets sick after she feeds him.’”
My skin prickled.
Lorenzo’s face lost color.
“When?”
“Two days before Sofia’s hemorrhage.”
Hayes suddenly looked up.
“Her hemorrhage?”
Lorenzo turned.
“What?”
The doctor frowned.
“I was told Sofia died from postpartum cardiomyopathy after surgical complications.”
“She did.”
“Was there hemorrhaging as well?”
Isabella and Lorenzo exchanged a look.
“Yes,” Lorenzo said.
Hayes became very still.
“Who told you that was normal?”
“Evelyn.”
No one spoke.
I felt Leo’s tiny chest rising against me.
The suspected poisoning of the baby had just become something larger.
Maybe Leo wasn’t the first person in the Rossi mansion somebody had tried to kill.
May you like
Maybe his mother had discovered the truth before anyone else.
And maybe that was why Sofia Rossi had never left the hospital alive.
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