Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN IN THE MOTEL ROOMRyan Cole was arrested forty miles outside the city the next morning.
Marco stopped him.
It was probably the bravest thing I had seen anyone do.
“Sir, if Vittorio expects you to react emotionally, then walking out now is exactly what he wants.”
Lorenzo’s eyes became dangerous.
“My uncle poisoned my son.”
“And maybe murdered your wife.”
“Which is why I’m going to find him.”
“And if the notebook is accurate, he wants you dead too.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then don’t make his job easier.”
Lorenzo stared at Marco.
Finally, he looked at Leo.
That stopped him.
He removed his coat.
“Find Vittorio.”
“We already are.”
“Find Evelyn first.”
Marco nodded.
Lorenzo then looked at me.
“You should go home.”
The suggestion surprised me.
“You told me to stay.”
“I was wrong.”
“Twice in twenty-four hours. Historic.”
His mouth almost moved.
Then his expression became serious.
“You’re in danger now.”
“So is Leo.”
“My security can protect him.”
“And feed him?”
His gaze dropped.
“We can arrange donor milk.”
“Which is probably safer.”
The words hurt to say.
Lorenzo studied me.
“But?”
I looked at Leo.
“He settles with me.”
“Yes.”
“So I’m staying tonight.”
“You don’t owe him anything.”
“I know.”
That mattered.
I stayed.
Later, after Bianca and Isabella left, Lorenzo and I sat in the darkened hospital room.
Leo slept between us.
Lorenzo had removed his jacket and tie.
Without the armor of the mansion around him, he looked almost ordinary.
Tired.
Thirty-eight.
Widowed.
Terrified.
He caught me looking.
“What?”
“I’m trying to understand something.”
“Dangerous hobby.”
“Why do people fear you so much?”
His face became unreadable.
“That’s not something you need to understand.”
“You’re threatening enough without rumors.”
“Rumors are useful.”
“So you encourage them.”
“Sometimes.”
“Have you killed people?”
His eyes met mine.
I immediately realized I had crossed a line.
“Anna.”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“Good.”
We sat silently.
Then he surprised me.
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
Fair enough.
“My family wasn’t built cleanly,” he continued. “But the world changed. I tried to change with it.”
“Vittorio didn’t?”
“Vittorio thinks fear is inheritance.”
“Maybe that’s why Sofia hated him.”
A shadow passed across Lorenzo’s face.
“She wanted me out.”
“Out of what?”
“Everything illegal.”
“Were you?”
“Getting there.”
“And Vittorio?”
“He believed she was weakening me.”
I looked at Leo.
“So he removed her.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes briefly.
“I should have listened.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I knew they fought.”
“That’s different from knowing he was capable of killing her.”
“I knew what Vittorio was capable of.”
The guilt in his voice was unmistakable.
I understood guilt.
Mine had whispered for three weeks.
If I had left Ryan earlier.
If I had called police sooner.
If I hadn’t argued with him near the staircase.
If I had protected Lily better.
“You can torture yourself forever with what you should have known,” I said. “It doesn’t change what someone else chose to do.”
Lorenzo looked at me.
“How did your boyfriend avoid prison?”
I froze.
“He disappeared.”
“After killing your daughter?”
“He said it was an accident.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
“Did police believe you?”
“They charged him. He fled before the hearing.”
Lorenzo’s expression became cold.
“What was his name?”
“Don’t.”
“I asked his name.”
“And I’m saying don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I know what you’ll do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
He leaned back.
“You think I’ll kill him.”
“I think you might.”
“And would that bother you?”
The terrifying truth was that some nights it wouldn’t.
I looked away.
“I want justice. Not another grave.”
Lorenzo studied me.
Then nodded.
“Understood.”
My phone vibrated.
I expected a hospital notification.
Instead, an unknown number had sent me a photograph.
I opened it.
My blood turned to ice.
It was my apartment building.
Taken tonight.
Underneath were five words.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT CLEANING.
Lorenzo saw my face.
“What?”
I showed him.
He stood immediately.
“Marco.”
The door opened.
Lorenzo handed him my phone.
Marco examined the message.
“I’ll send people.”
I stood.
“My apartment—”
“You’re not going there.”
“My things are there.”
“So?”
“So my life is there.”
“No. Your belongings are there.”
The words struck me because he was right.
Lily’s clothes.
Her ultrasound photographs.
The tiny blanket I had bought before she died.
Everything I had left of her.
“I need something from there.”
“What?”
“A box.”
Lorenzo saw my expression.
He understood.
“I’ll have Marco retrieve it.”
“No strangers.”
“Then I’ll go.”
“You just said you’re a target.”
“I’ll send Bianca with security.”
I hesitated.
“Fine.”
Marco left.
Ten minutes later, he returned looking disturbed.
“We traced the number.”
“To whom?” Lorenzo asked.
Marco stared at me.
“Ryan Cole.”
My knees nearly buckled.
“No.”
Lorenzo caught my arm.
“My ex?”
“Yes.”
“He’s working with Vittorio?”
“We don’t know.”
My mind raced.
Ryan’s gambling debts.
The men who had been searching for him.
The reason I took a job in a wealthy private estate under a staffing agency that asked unusually few questions.
Suddenly it all looked different.
“What?” Lorenzo asked.
I remembered something.
“When I applied for the job, the agency called me the same day.”
“So?”
“They said someone specifically requested me.”
Lorenzo’s eyes sharpened.
“Who?”
“They never said.”
Marco pulled out his phone.
“What agency?”
“Bellmont Domestic Staffing.”
Marco went still.
Lorenzo noticed.
“You know it?”
Marco slowly looked up.
“Vittorio owns Bellmont through a holding company.”
The room seemed to tilt.
I had not found the Rossi mansion by accident.
Someone had placed me there.
Lorenzo’s voice became low.
“Why would Vittorio want Anna in my house?”
Nobody answered.
Then I remembered Ryan’s last words before he disappeared.
Words I had assumed were meaningless threats.
You have no idea who I borrowed from.
I looked at Lorenzo.
“What if Ryan owes your uncle money?”
Marco was already typing.
Thirty seconds later, his face changed.
“He does.”
“How much?”
“Four hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
My stomach turned.
Lorenzo’s expression hardened.
“Vittorio put you in this house because Ryan owed him.”
“But why?”
Marco scrolled farther.
Then stopped.
“There’s a payment note.”
“What does it say?”
He looked at me.
“Debt forgiven in exchange for placement.”
My skin went cold.
Placement.
Me.
Lorenzo’s voice became terrifying.
“Your ex traded you to my uncle.”
But that still didn’t explain why.
Until I looked at Leo.
And understood.
A grieving woman.
Still producing breast milk.
Placed in a house with a starving infant.
I whispered, “I wasn’t supposed to save him.”
Lorenzo stared at me.
“What?”
“I was supposed to be blamed.”
Silence.
If Leo died after secretly feeding from me, I would become the perfect suspect.
An unauthorized maid.
A desperate woman.
A biological contaminant nobody had tested.
And while everyone focused on me—
The real killers could disappear.
Vittorio had built a trap.
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The only reason it failed was because Lorenzo had walked into the nursery before Leo died.
And because the starving baby had swallowed.
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