Chapter 3 - THE RECORDING INSIDE THE SILVER TAG
By midnight, Bellandi House no longer resembled a place of celebration.
The guests had been sent home. Security guards stood at every entrance. Victoria had locked herself in her bedroom and refused to speak. Marcus remained in the study under the supervision of two guards.
Lorenzo stayed beside Isabella until she fell asleep.
Even then, he did not leave her.
He sat in the chair beside her bed, watching the soft rise and fall of her breathing. The collar rested inside a transparent evidence bag on the desk.
At two in the morning, the forensic technician arrived.
His name was Calvin Rhodes. He had worked with Lorenzo on corporate investigations before and knew how to keep his mouth shut.
Calvin placed the silver tag beneath a magnifying lamp.
“This wasn’t made for a dog,” he said.
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed.
“What makes you say that?”
“There’s a secondary clasp beneath the engraving. The tag can be opened, but only with a magnetic release.”
He touched the surface with a small device.
A soft click came from inside the metal.
The tag split apart.
A tiny black memory card slid onto the table.
Lorenzo felt a pressure form behind his eyes.
“Read it.”
Calvin inserted the card into an encrypted reader.
The screen displayed one audio file.
MATTEO_BELLANDI_FINAL_02.
Lorenzo’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk.
His father’s voice came through the speakers, weak and uneven.
“If you are hearing this, I am already dead.”
Lorenzo closed his eyes.
Matteo continued.
“I was not betrayed by outsiders. The theft came from the people who sat at my table, slept under my roof, and called themselves family.”
A pause followed. The recording crackled.
“For five years, money has been moved from Bellandi Maritime through a chain of shell companies. The final account belongs to Marcus Vale.”
Lorenzo stared at the screen.
Calvin looked at him but said nothing.
Matteo’s voice continued.
“Victoria helped him hide the transfers. She did not begin the theft, but she protected it. I confronted them both. They threatened to take Lorenzo’s inheritance and have him declared mentally unfit.”
Lorenzo rose so quickly that his chair struck the wall.
“No.”
His voice sounded unfamiliar.
The recording played on.
“Lorenzo, you trusted Marcus because I told you to. That was my mistake. If I die before exposing them, the proof will be hidden in the old boathouse, beneath the floorboard marked seventeen.”
The audio ended.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then Isabella began to cry in the bedroom.
Lorenzo rushed to her.
She sat upright, clutching her blanket.
“Daddy?”
“I’m here.”
“Is the bad man coming back?”
Lorenzo sat beside her and pulled her into his arms.
“Which bad man?”
“The one with your coat.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
Isabella nodded against his chest.
“He said I had to give him the little box.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him it was Daddy’s.”
Lorenzo glanced toward the evidence bag.
The collar had been placed around Isabella because someone believed she had found the recording. But how had a three-year-old discovered it?
He gently touched her hair.
“Where did you find the collar?”
“In the old nursery.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Aunt Victoria told me to find my red bunny.”
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
The old nursery had been closed for years. No one should have taken Isabella there.
“Did you see the collar in the nursery?”
“It was in a box.”
“What kind of box?”
“Blue. With flowers.”
Lorenzo remembered the box.
His mother had owned a blue lacquer box decorated with painted roses. After her death, it disappeared from the family archives.
Someone had moved it to the old nursery.
Someone had wanted Isabella to find the collar.
That meant the child had not accidentally uncovered the evidence.
She had been used as a messenger.
A soft knock came from the doorway.
Rosa Alvarez, the family housekeeper, stood there holding a tray of warm milk.
Rosa had worked for the Bellandis for thirty-seven years. She had cared for Lorenzo after his mother died and had been the first person to hold Isabella when she was born.
Her eyes settled on the evidence bag.
“I wondered when you would find it,” she said.
Lorenzo slowly stood.
“You knew?”
“I knew your father left something behind.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Marcus was watching everyone.”
Rosa placed the tray on the table.
“Your father gave me one instruction before he died. He told me never to trust a man who was too eager to protect you.”
Lorenzo looked toward the study where Marcus waited under guard.
“Why keep silent for six years?”
“Because I had no proof. And because Victoria made sure I understood what would happen if I spoke.”
“What did she threaten?”
Rosa’s expression became hollow.
“She threatened to send my grandson to prison.”
Lorenzo’s hands curled into fists.
Rosa reached inside her apron and pulled out a small envelope.
“I found this under your father’s desk the week he died.”
Lorenzo opened it.
Inside was a photograph of the old boathouse.
A red circle had been drawn around a floorboard.
Number seventeen.
May you like
On the back, Matteo had written four words:
THEY WILL COME BACK.
