Chapter 3 – THE CHILD’S CRAYON DRAWING
“You bought the ticket?” Matteo’s voice was a deadly, quiet rasp.
He moved toward Vanessa. The wealthy guests at the table began pushing their chairs back, realizing they were no longer attending an engagement dinner, but a tribunal.
Vanessa hit the edge of the dining table, her hands gripping the white linen cloth. “My father is lying! He’s trying to protect his own investments! He knows you’ll pull your money out of our firm if we don’t marry!”
Arthur stood firm. “I am trying to keep myself out of a federal indictment, you foolish girl. I found the bank receipts in your safe last week. You paid the Moretti cartel to run Elena off the road so you could take her place.”
The silence shattered.
Rosie screamed, burying her face into Sophie’s apron. Sophie instinctively wrapped her arms around the child, shielding her from the woman who had just been accused of murdering her mother.
“It’s a lie!” Vanessa shrieked, her perfect composure entirely gone. “Matteo, he’s old! His mind is going! Why would I hire the Morettis? I didn’t even know you back then!”
“Yes, you did.”
The small voice didn’t come from Matteo.
It came from Rosie.
The seven-year-old peeked out from behind Sophie’s apron. She reached into the pocket of her little cream-colored dress and pulled out a folded piece of construction paper.
“I found this in Vanessa’s coat closet when I was hiding during hide-and-seek yesterday,” Rosie whispered, handing the paper to her father.
Matteo unfolded the drawing.
It wasn’t a child’s drawing. It was a crude, heavily detailed charcoal sketch of Matteo, Elena, and a baby Rosie, walking through a park.
The date scrawled in the corner was three years old. A full year before Elena died.
And written in red ink across Elena’s face was a single word: Mine.
Matteo stared at the handwriting. He knew Vanessa’s elegant, looping script from a hundred wedding invitations.
“You stalked us,” Matteo realized, the horror dawning on his face. “You were obsessed with my life before I even knew your name.”
Vanessa stared at the drawing, trapped.
Then, her panic vanished. Her posture straightened, and a cold, chilling smile spread across her lips.
“So what if I did?” Vanessa sneered. “You’re a mob boss, Matteo. You destroy lives every day. I just destroyed the one thing standing between me and your empire.”
Matteo lunged forward, but his security detail immediately stepped in, holding him back.
“Let me go!” Matteo roared.
Vanessa smoothed her red satin dress. “I wouldn’t do that, darling. If I go down for Elena’s death, I take your legitimate businesses with me. Who do you think signed the transfer documents for your shipping yards this morning?”
Matteo froze.
“You signed them over to my father’s shell company,” Vanessa laughed. “You’re ruined.”
But Sophie, still holding Rosie, stepped forward.
“No, he isn’t,” Sophie said clearly.
Vanessa glared at her. “Shut up, you little rat.”
Sophie reached into her other apron pocket. “When I was cleaning your office today, Miss Whitmore, I found the notary seal you left on your desk. But I also found the courier bag you asked me to mail.”
Sophie held up a thick, unsealed manila envelope.
“I didn’t mail it,” Sophie said softly. “Because Mrs. Parker recognized the address.”
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