Chapter 5 - THE BOTTLE IN THE TRASH
The laboratory result arrived at 4:17 that afternoon.
Dr. Ricci read it twice.
Then he asked everyone except Alessandro and me to leave the library.
That frightened me more than the result itself.
Luca slept upstairs under observation.
Maya was eating pasta with one of the housekeepers.
I sat opposite Alessandro.
Dr. Ricci placed the report on the desk.
“There are traces of a sedative in the residue.”
Alessandro did not blink.
“How much?”
“Impossible to determine from the bottle alone.”
“Would it harm Luca?”
“It could.”
The two words changed the air.
“Was it in his formula?”
“We need to test the prepared bottles.”
“Do it.”
“They've already been collected.”
I looked at Ricci.
“Could this explain the lethargy?”
“Yes.”
“And the crying?”
“Possibly.”
I shook my head.
“Not all of it.”
Alessandro looked toward me.
“What do you mean?”
“His crying on the plane was too focused.”
“Focused?”
“He was searching.”
“He responded to feeding immediately.”
“If somebody had been sedating him regularly, he might also have begun associating the bottle with feeling ill.”
Ricci nodded slowly.
“That is possible.”
“So every time someone brought a bottle near him, he fought harder.”
Alessandro stared at the report.
“He was trying to protect himself.”
“Maybe.”
His hands closed into fists.
I watched him.
This was the moment I expected the mafia boss from the newspapers to appear.
I expected orders.
Threats.
Violence.
Instead, Alessandro whispered one sentence.
“I kept forcing the bottle into his mouth.”
“You didn't know.”
“I held my son while someone poisoned him.”
“You didn't know.”
“He was telling me.”
“He's a baby.”
“He was screaming.”
“So were you.”
Alessandro looked at me.
I immediately regretted saying it.
But he did not become angry.
He looked tired.
“What does that mean?”
“You buried your wife three days ago.”
“Now you're trying to keep your son alive while men follow you through airports.”
“You're allowed not to understand everything.”
He leaned back.
“Men like me are not allowed that luxury.”
“Maybe that's the problem.”
His eyes sharpened.
Before he could answer, Marco entered without knocking.
“We found Teresa.”
Alessandro stood.
“Where?”
“Her car is abandoned near the highway.”
“Teresa?”
“Gone.”
Enzo came in behind him.
“There was blood in the driver's seat.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Not much.”
“Enough to suggest injury.”
Marco handed Alessandro a photograph.
I stayed where I was.
I did not need to see it.
“Any camera footage?”
Enzo shook his head.
“The nearest camera was disabled twelve minutes before she arrived.”
“Carlo.”
“Probably.”
Alessandro stared at the photograph.
“What did Teresa know?”
Nobody answered.
Then I remembered her words.
You are letting Sofia destroy this family even after her death.
“Maybe Sofia found out.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“Found out what?”
“That someone was putting something in Luca's bottles.”
He became still.
I continued.
“And maybe that's why she's dead.”
Enzo swore softly.
Marco walked toward the window.
“If Sofia confronted someone inside the household, they could have panicked.”
Alessandro shook his head.
“My wife was not killed because of a bottle.”
“How do you know?”
“Because her death was planned.”
The room went quiet.
I looked at him.
“You said police thought it was an accident.”
“They do.”
“You don't.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Alessandro hesitated.
Then pulled out his phone.
He opened a photograph.
Sofia stood beside a white convertible.
She was beautiful.
Dark hair.
Green eyes.
A smile that looked slightly mischievous.
Alessandro swiped.
The next image showed twisted metal against a stone barrier.
My stomach turned.
“The brake line was damaged.”
Ricci's head rose.
“Police know this?”
“The investigator found no evidence.”
“But you did?”
“My people did.”
“Your people.”
I hated how naturally those words fit inside his life.
Alessandro ignored my tone.
“Sofia was frightened during the final month of her life.”
“Of whom?”
“She wouldn't say.”
“Why?”
“She thought I would kill whoever threatened her.”
I stared at him.
“Would you?”
He didn't answer.
That was an answer.
I stood.
“This is exactly why Maya and I cannot stay here.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“Claire.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the report.
“Your baby was drugged.”
“Your caregiver vanished.”
“Your wife may have been murdered.”
“And your enemy somehow knows my husband's family.”
“My daughter has already spent enough time around dangerous men.”
I walked toward the door.
Marco blocked me gently.
“Moving now would be extremely risky.”
“I'll take the risk.”
“With Maya?”
I stopped.
That was unfair.
Which was why it worked.
My phone buzzed.
Gabriella.
I answered immediately.
“Gabby?”
“Claire.”
Her voice was shaking.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into my apartment.”
My knees weakened.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Mateo is with my mother.”
“Police are here.”
“What did they take?”
“Nothing.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then why break in?”
Gabriella started crying.
“Because they left something.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
My stomach twisted.
“Of what?”
“You and Maya.”
“When?”
“At the airport.”
I looked toward Alessandro.
“Anything written on it?”
“Yes.”
She whispered the words.
“Stop feeding the Moretti child.”
Nobody in the room moved.
Gabriella continued.
“Claire, what did you get involved in?”
“I don't know.”
“Come home.”
“There is no home.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I can't bring this to your apartment.”
“Then go to police.”
“I am talking to police.”
“Not his police.”
I looked at Alessandro.
He heard.
His expression remained unreadable.
“I'll call you back.”
I ended the call.
Marco held out his hand.
“May I see the photograph when she sends it?”
“Why?”
“Because whoever sent that message believes feeding Luca matters.”
“That seems obvious.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“It matters specifically.”
Alessandro's gaze sharpened.
“What are you thinking?”
Marco looked toward Dr. Ricci.
“What happens if Luca refuses formula for long enough?”
“He becomes dehydrated.”
“And eventually?”
Ricci's face changed.
I understood too.
“They weren't trying to quiet him.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“What?”
I whispered the answer.
“They wanted him dependent on the bottles.”
The room became perfectly still.
Ricci picked up the laboratory report again.
“If the sedative was added repeatedly, somebody may have been trying to keep him compliant.”
“And once Sofia died,” I said, “he stopped accepting them.”
Alessandro's face hardened.
“Which ruined someone's plan.”
Marco nodded.
“And then Claire appeared.”
I looked down at my hands.
My body had done what the bottles could not.
I had fed Luca.
I had unintentionally removed the only leverage whoever was hurting him had left.
My phone vibrated again.
This time it was an image from Gabriella.
I opened it.
The photograph showed me standing in the first-class aisle.
Luca was visible in Alessandro's arms.
I was looking down at him.
The picture had been taken onboard the aircraft.
Not at the airport.
Someone on our flight had sent it.
My eyes moved toward Alessandro.
“Who knew which flight you were taking?”
“Very few people.”
“Passengers?”
“No.”
“Staff?”
“Some.”
“Teresa?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I enlarged the photograph.
At the edge of the image, reflected faintly in the first-class window, was part of a face.
A woman.
Blonde hair.
Red lipstick.
I recognized her.
The famous actress from across the aisle.
But she wasn't holding a phone.
Someone behind her was.
I zoomed further.
A man's hand was visible.
On his wrist was a silver watch engraved with a symbol.
Alessandro took the phone.
His expression went blank.
“What?”
He did not answer.
“Alessandro.”
Enzo stepped closer.
He saw the watch.
His face drained.
“No.”
I looked between them.
“What is it?”
Alessandro lifted his eyes.
“That watch belonged to my father.”
“Belonged?”
“He died eleven years ago.”
“Who has it now?”
Alessandro swallowed.
“My uncle Vittorio.”
May you like
The man behind everything had not been waiting in Rome.
He had been sitting only a few seats away from us for the entire flight.
