The second contract was hidden inside my house.

Renata didn’t know where.

That was what she claimed.

Vittorio had only told her that Elena could not be allowed to speak to me before the marriage agreement was signed.

“Why Elena?” I asked again.

Renata sat in the library under Dominic’s supervision.

Her hands shook.

“Because she walked into your office while I was photographing the trust documents.”

“She already told me.”

Renata looked toward the window.

“There was another folder under them.”

“What folder?”

“Property transfers.”

“Transferring what?”

“The estate. Some company shares. The lake house. I don’t know everything.”

“Who prepared them?”

“Arturo.”

“Signed by whom?”

“No one yet.”

“Then they were meaningless.”

“Not after the marriage.”

I stared at her.

She explained.

The planned family trust would place several assets under joint governance.

Then, using a second set of agreements, Vittorio intended to classify additional Duca properties as marital holdings.

Bianca’s signature combined with Vittorio’s trustee authority could eventually restrict my control.

Not instantly.

Not cleanly.

But enough to start lawsuits, board challenges, frozen accounts, and forced negotiations.

A takeover through paperwork.

The kind of war wealthy men preferred because nobody had to raise their voice.

“Did Bianca know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Marco Rinaldi?”

“I don’t know.”

“Arturo?”

“Yes.”

That much she answered immediately.

I believed her.

“Why help them?”

Her eyes filled again.

“My brother owes money.”

“How much?”

“More than he can pay.”

“So Vittorio paid you.”

“He said he would make the debt disappear.”

“And in exchange, you framed Elena.”

Renata whispered, “Yes.”

“You frightened her daughter.”

“I didn’t mean for Sofia to hear.”

“You told a four-year-old her mother would be taken away.”

“I panicked.”

“No. You chose.”

She began crying.

It did nothing for me.

Remorse after consequences is not the same as conscience before them.

Still, I needed facts.

“What did Elena see that scared Vittorio?”

“The second folder.”

“She said she only saw the heading on the trust papers.”

“She saw more.”

“How do you know?”

“Because after I left your office, Vittorio asked me whether she had looked at the lower folder.”

I frowned.

“Vittorio was in the house?”

Renata nodded.

“He was in the adjoining library.”

That changed things.

My uncle had been inside my private rooms a week earlier.

Without telling me.

“Security footage?”

“Arturo erased it.”

Of course.

I stood.

“Dominic.”

“Already checking backups.”

Renata looked up.

“There aren’t any.”

“There are always backups.”

She shook her head.

“Arturo said he disabled them.”

That sounded like Arturo.

Confident.

Technically competent.

Arrogant enough to believe the system had only one layer.

Unfortunately for him, three months earlier Dominic had installed an independent cloud archive after an attempted cyberattack.

Arturo didn’t know.

Neither did Vittorio.

Neither, apparently, did Renata.

Dominic almost smiled.

“I’ll call IT.”

We left her.

Elena was waiting in the hallway.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

Her face looked stricken.

“This happened because I saw those papers.”

“No.”

“If I hadn’t—”

“No.”

I stopped in front of her.

“This happened because other people made choices. Don’t take responsibility for crimes committed against you.”

She looked surprised by the force of my voice.

I moderated it.

“Did you see the second folder?”

Elena hesitated.

Then nodded.

“What did it say?”

She closed her eyes.

“I didn’t read the whole thing.”

“Anything helps.”

“There was a page with your name.”

“And?”

“Your signature.”

I went still.

“My signature?”

“Yes.”

“Was it signed?”

“It looked signed.”

That was impossible.

I had never signed a property transfer.

“Could it have been copied?”

“I don’t know.”

“Anything else?”

She thought.

“Your mother’s foundation.”

My jaw tightened.

The Duca Family Foundation funded hospitals, scholarships, shelters, and community projects my mother had started twenty years earlier.

I kept it separate from the family businesses for one reason.

Nobody touched it.

Not even me, except as trustee.

“What about the foundation?”

“A transfer schedule.”

I walked away before anger made me stupid.

They weren't just coming for property.

They were trying to drag my mother’s foundation into the trust.

That explained the clock too.

Vittorio knew exactly what symbols to use against me.

Elena followed.

“Mr. Duca.”

“Lorenzo.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to accidentally help save my estate, call me Lorenzo.”

Despite everything, she almost smiled.

Then Sofia appeared at the far end of the hallway.

She was wearing my suit jacket again.

I had no idea how she had obtained it.

Pino walked beside her.

“Elena?”

Her mother sighed.

“Sofia, where did you get that?”

“Mr. Lorenzo gave it to me.”

“I gave it to you three hours ago.”

“So it’s mine now.”

I looked at Elena.

“She negotiates better than the Rinaldis.”

Elena laughed.

It was small.

Unexpected.

And it changed her entire face.

Until that moment I had mostly seen fear, exhaustion, and careful politeness.

Now I saw warmth.

The realization unsettled me.

Not because she was attractive.

She was.

That was obvious.

What unsettled me was that I cared whether she laughed again.

That was new.

Dangerously new.

Sofia reached us.

“Pino wants dinner.”

“Pino always wants dinner.”

“He told me.”

“How?”

“He looked.”

Fair point.

Mrs. Calder approached.

“Sir, shall I prepare guest rooms for Elena and Sofia?”

Elena immediately said, “We can go home.”

“No.”

The word came too fast.

She looked at me.

I corrected.

“I don’t think that’s wise tonight.”

“This is my employer’s house.”

“Currently it’s also the place where the people threatening you no longer control the locks.”

She crossed her arms.

“I don’t like being told where I can and can’t go.”

Good.

People who stood up to me were rare.

“I’m not ordering you.”

“It sounded like an order.”

“Occupational habit.”

Sofia tugged Elena’s sleeve.

“Can we stay?”

Elena looked down.

“Baby—”

“Pino will protect us.”

Pino sat.

As if voting.

I said, “One night.”

Elena sighed.

“One night.”

Sofia beamed.

“Can Pino sleep with us?”

“No,” Elena and I said simultaneously.

Sofia looked at Pino.

“We’ll see.”

I almost smiled.

Again.

That child was becoming dangerous.

An hour later, Dominic called me into the security office.

The backup server had footage.

Not all of it.

Enough.

We watched Renata enter my private corridor at 10:11.

She carried a cleaning basket.

At 10:13, she entered my mother’s sitting room using a copied badge.

At 10:18, she emerged with the gold clock concealed beneath a towel.

Then another camera caught her walking toward the staff rooms.

The theft was solved.

But Dominic kept watching.

At 10:04, eight minutes before Renata entered, a man had walked through the same corridor.

Vittorio.

Silver falcon ring visible on his hand.

He stopped beside Arturo.

They spoke.

No audio.

Then Arturo handed him a folder.

Vittorio opened it.

Inside was a contract.

My uncle pointed toward my office.

Arturo nodded.

They disappeared from frame.

The cloud archive cut out twelve minutes later.

Not because Arturo had deleted it.

Because he had physically disconnected one camera junction.

Careful.

But not careful enough.

Another camera covered the courtyard exit.

At 10:29, Arturo emerged carrying a leather folio.