Chapter 10 - Khloe Walked Into Her Grandmother’s Mansion Alone—But Isabella Caruso Had Prepared a Test That No Gun Could Solve
Khloe went.
Not alone.
Technically.
Enzo hated technicalities.
“You said alone.”
“I am entering alone.”
“There are thirty federal agents outside.”
“Exactly.”
“That's not alone.”
“Emotionally, perhaps.”
He stared.
She smiled.
“Too soon?”
“Yes.”
The mansion stood north of Chicago behind stone walls.
Isabella had requested no weapons.
Khloe carried none.
She wore a transmitter.
This time not hidden in a shoe.
Progress.
Isabella waited in a library.
Ninety-one years old.
Silver hair.
Straight back.
No oxygen.
No visible weakness except the hand trembling slightly against her cane.
Khloe entered.
Isabella smiled.
“You have Sofia's eyes.”
“You have terrible family communication skills.”
The old woman laughed.
“I like you.”
“That makes one of us.”
“You came.”
“To end this.”
“You sound like Antonio.”
“Good.”
“Antonio failed.”
“Did he?”
Isabella's smile faded.
Khloe sat without invitation.
“Anthony is dead. Vale is running. Your council is exposed. Enzo dismantled his organization.”
“And yet I'm here.”
“For now.”
Isabella studied her.
“You believe law wins.”
“No.”
“What do you believe?”
“That systems only work when enough people decide to make them work.”
“Naive.”
“Maybe.”
Isabella poured tea.
Khloe didn't drink.
“You think I want you to run Belladonna.”
“You do.”
“No.”
Khloe frowned.
“I want you to destroy it.”
That she hadn't expected.
Isabella smiled.
“I am dying.”
“Congratulations?”
“Charming.”
“Family trait.”
Isabella continued.
“Belladonna no longer obeys me.”
“Who does it obey?”
“Marcus Vale.”
Khloe became still.
“He's consolidating everything.”
“Yes.”
“And Elena?”
“Insurance.”
“You groomed a child.”
“I protected her.”
Khloe laughed.
“Everyone in this family uses that word when they mean control.”
Isabella's eyes sharpened.
“You sound like Sofia.”
“Good.”
“I made Sofia strong.”
“No. You made her afraid. She became strong anyway.”
That landed.
Isabella looked away.
Then slid a folder across the table.
Inside were accounts.
Passwords.
Corporate structures.
Politicians.
Judges.
Enough to destroy Belladonna.
“Why give this to me?”
“Because Vale cannot imagine a woman refusing power.”
Khloe understood.
“He thinks I'll take over.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I wasn't sure.”
Khloe closed the folder.
“Now?”
Isabella smiled.
“Now I know.”
“Know what?”
“You're going to burn it.”
“No.”
Isabella raised an eyebrow.
“I'm going to hand it to prosecutors.”
The old woman laughed for almost a minute.
Then coughed.
Blood touched her handkerchief.
“Antonio would've liked you.”
“He apparently told my mother to keep me away from Enzo.”
“Antonio had good instincts.”
Khloe smiled despite herself.
Then Isabella became serious.
“Vale has someone inside your circle.”
Khloe's stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Convenient.”
“He stopped telling me names years ago.”
“Then what do you know?”
“He knows everything you plan before you do it.”
Khloe thought of the wedding camera.
Their apartment.
Federal movements.
Someone close.
“Frankie?”
“No.”
“Gabriella?”
“No.”
“Rachel?”
Isabella said nothing.
Khloe's heart dropped.
“No.”
“Trust is expensive.”
Khloe stood.
“You don't know.”
“No.”
“You suspect.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Rachel Kim's father worked for Marcus Vale.”
Khloe stared.
“That doesn't make her guilty.”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
Isabella smiled.
“Good.”
“What?”
“You didn't abandon someone based on blood.”
Khloe hated this woman.
Outside, Enzo waited.
Khloe gave Rachel the folder anyway.
Directly.
She watched her reaction.
Shock.
Then professional focus.
No obvious guilt.
But suspicion had entered.
That was Isabella's final weapon.
Not bullets.
Distrust.
That night Khloe told Enzo everything.
Including Rachel.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think Isabella wanted us suspicious.”
“So we ignore it?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“We verify.”
They did.
Quietly.
Rachel's history showed her father had indeed clerked for Vale thirty years earlier.
But Rachel had spent her career prosecuting networks connected to him.
Perhaps cover.
Perhaps revenge.
Then Frankie discovered a transfer.
$400,000.
Offshore account.
Recipient linked to Rachel's husband.
Enzo stared.
Khloe refused conclusion.
“Ask her.”
“What?”
“Ask.”
“That's your investigative strategy?”
“Revolutionary, I know.”
Rachel arrived.
Khloe placed the transaction in front of her.
Rachel went pale.
“My husband.”
“Yes.”
“He told me it was inheritance.”
“It came from Belladonna.”
Rachel sat.
Then whispered:
“Oh God.”
She called him.
No answer.
They drove to her home.
Door open.
Blood inside.
Not Rachel's husband.
Marcus Vale's.
Vale lay dead in the kitchen.
Rachel's husband, David, was gone.
On the wall:
ONE SEAT REMAINS.
And suddenly they understood.
Vale wasn't running Belladonna anymore.
Someone had killed him.
Someone younger.
Someone close enough to Rachel to use her.
Someone who had attended Enzo's wedding.
And when Frankie checked the guest photographs, one face appeared three times in the background.
Tommy.
May you like
The former nineteen-year-old busboy Khloe had once saved.
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