Chapter 3 - The Diner Manager Swore He Never Touched the Envelope, Until the Bank Log Proved Someone Used His Private Access CodeDaniel met us at Rosa's that afternoon.
He looked nervous.
Too nervous.
Alessandro noticed.
“Sit.”
Daniel sat.
I remained beside him.
The diner was closed.
All employees had been sent home.
Alessandro put the bank document on the table.
“Recognize this?”
Daniel looked.
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Your access code was used.”
Daniel swallowed.
“My code?”
“The transaction originated from your terminal.”
“I didn't do it.”
“Then someone did.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Sophia, I swear—”
Alessandro interrupted.
“Don't call her by her first name.”
Daniel looked confused.
I knew immediately.
Alessandro wasn't simply angry.
He was testing him.
“Who knew your access code?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Rosa.”
“Anyone else?”
“My brother.”
“Name?”
“Luis.”
Alessandro wrote it down.
“What time did Luis enter the diner?”
“I don't know.”
“Check the cameras.”
“They've been overwritten.”
Alessandro smiled.
“Exactly.”
Daniel looked frightened.
I asked:
“Why would your brother do this?”
“He wouldn't.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Alessandro stood.
“Then prove it.”
Daniel left.
I looked at Alessandro.
“Why are you interrogating my coworkers?”
“Because someone used their access.”
“You think the betrayal began here.”
“I think someone needed a place nobody would investigate.”
“And the envelope?”
“Perfect bait.”
“For what?”
“To create a chain of evidence.”
I frowned.
He explained.
The envelope contained $10,000.
If someone found it and kept it, they could accuse them of theft.
If someone returned it, Alessandro would know where the money went.
But the bank seal contained something more.
A transaction code.
That code identified who had moved money through the Moretti network.
The thief wasn't stealing the $10,000.
They were trying to make the withdrawal look like a random personal transaction.
The envelope was bait.
The true target was the financial record.
And Emma had accidentally preserved the one physical piece of evidence they couldn't erase.
I touched the envelope.
“She saved you.”
Alessandro nodded.
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“My little girl does that sometimes.”
He looked at me.
“She also saved someone else.”
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned toward the window.
“Someone inside my organization is not trying to steal from me.”
“What are they trying to do?”
“Frame me.”
“For what?”
“Murder.”
My stomach dropped.
A murder had happened three days earlier.
A judge.
He had been found dead inside his home.
The evidence pointed toward Alessandro.
But he hadn't ordered it.
Someone had used one of his private access codes.
The same system involved in the $10,000 withdrawal.
I understood.
The money was only the beginning.
The betrayer was building a trail.
A trail that would eventually lead to Alessandro.
Then Emma walked in.
She had gotten out of school early.
“Mommy?”
I hugged her.
“You should have stayed with the babysitter.”
“She said Mr. Moretti was here.”
Alessandro looked at her.
“Hello, Emma.”
“Hi.”
She smiled.
Then asked:
“Did you get your money back?”
He laughed.
“Not exactly.”
“Was it okay?”
“Yes.”
“You're not mad?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She pulled a drawing from her backpack.
“I made this for you.”
Alessandro stared.
A drawing.
A black car.
A diner.
An envelope.
Three people.
I smiled.
“It's you.”
Emma nodded.
“The man.”
I looked at the picture.
“Who is that?”
“The man in the rain.”
My stomach tightened.
“What man?”
Emma pointed.
“The man who put the envelope there.”
Alessandro's eyes changed.
“What did you say?”
Emma looked at him.
“He wasn't in your car.”
I knelt.
“Emma, what man?”
She pointed again.
“He had a red umbrella.”
I looked at Alessandro.
He immediately called his security team.
“Find every person with a red umbrella outside the diner that night.”
Emma continued coloring.
Then she said casually:
“He talked to the lady.”
“What lady?”
“The one who gave him the envelope.”
Silence.
I stared.
“The envelope was already there when we found it.”
Emma shook her head.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“A lady put it there.”
Alessandro crouched.
“What did she look like?”
Emma thought.
“Brown hair.”
“Anything else?”
“She had your same ring.”
I looked at Alessandro.
He went completely still.
“What ring?”
Emma pointed at his hand.
“The black one.”
Alessandro looked down.
His signet ring.
Then he whispered:
“That ring belongs to my chief of security.”
The man he trusted most.
And suddenly, the missing money wasn't the only problem.
The person who planted it had been wearing a symbol that could get them through every Moretti security door.
Someone trusted.
Someone close.
May you like
Someone who could erase evidence.
And someone my daughter had seen.
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