Chapter 3 - THE SECRET INSIDE POPPY
There are very few ways to frighten twenty armed men without raising your voice.
I discovered one at 5:41 that morning.
“Find the rabbit.”
Nobody laughed.
No one asked whether I was serious.
Poppy had been sitting beside Lily’s note twenty minutes before we left.
Now the stuffed animal was gone.
The servants’ corridor had three entrances.
Two covered by cameras.
One interior stairwell.
The cameras had failed again for exactly four minutes.
Manual interruption.
Again.
Somebody inside my house was cleaning up.
Clara held Lily against her chest in the kitchen while a pediatrician examined the scrape on her knee.
The child had mild hypothermia.
Nothing serious.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, I wanted to tear every wall apart.
Nico entered.
“Nothing.”
“What about trash?”
“Checked.”
“Laundry?”
“Checked.”
“Vehicles leaving?”
“None.”
“So the rabbit is inside.”
“Probably.”
I looked toward the staff.
Thirty-seven people lived or worked on the estate.
Housekeepers.
Kitchen workers.
Drivers.
Security.
Gardeners.
Some had been with me a decade.
One had disabled cameras.
One had tried to take Lily.
Or helped whoever did.
Clara said:
“Why would Gabriel want the rabbit?”
I looked at her.
“You tell me.”
Her face hardened.
“I haven’t spoken to my brother in three months.”
“Why?”
“Because the last time he called, he sounded terrified.”
I stepped closer.
“What did he say?”
“That he had made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“He wouldn’t explain.”
I had already decided Gabriel’s guilt from numbers.
Money moved through accounts under his credentials.
Security footage showed him entering the accounting office after midnight.
Then he disappeared.
My people found an empty apartment and one burned phone.
It looked simple.
Too simple, perhaps.
Clara continued:
“He asked whether Lily still had Poppy.”
My pulse changed.
“When?”
“His last call.”
“What exactly did he say?”
She thought.
“‘Does she still sleep with that rabbit?’”
“And?”
“I said yes.”
“What happened?”
“He told me never to throw it away.”
There.
Something.
I turned toward Nico.
“Who gave Lily Poppy?”
Clara answered.
“Gabriel.”
“When?”
“Her second birthday.”
A year ago.
Before the theft.
Maybe long before Gabriel realized he needed somewhere safe to hide something.
I looked toward the hallway.
“Search again.”
Nico nodded.
“Carefully.”
Then Lily tugged Clara’s sleeve.
“Poppy has a boo-boo.”
We all stopped.
“What boo-boo?” Clara asked.
“The tummy.”
She pointed to her own stomach.
“Uncle Gabriel fixed it.”
“When?”
“Before he went bye-bye.”
I crouched.
“What did he do?”
Lily looked at me suspiciously.
“Needle.”
“Did he sew Poppy?”
She nodded.
Then:
“Made her fat.”
Nico and I looked at each other.
The rabbit had contained something.
Someone knew.
That was why the car came.
That was why Poppy disappeared.
I stood.
“Who entered the servants’ corridor after we left?”
Marco checked his tablet.
“Three staff.”
“Names.”
“Rosa Marquez. Kitchen.”
Trusted.
“Anthony Bell.”
One of the junior guards.
“And?”
He hesitated.
“Matteo Ferraro.”
The room went quiet.
Matteo.
My consigliere.
My father’s closest surviving lieutenant.
The man who had helped me take control after my father died.
He had been inside my organization longer than Nico.
He wore a Romano ring.
“Why?”
Marco said:
“He claimed he was checking staff security after the incident.”
Of course.
“Where is he?”
“Not answering.”
Nico swore.
I called.
Voicemail.
Again.
Nothing.
Then Marco’s radio crackled.
“Found something.”
We followed a guard to the boiler room.
Poppy lay behind a pipe.
Cut open.
Stuffing spread across the floor.
Lily cried when she saw it.
“Poppy!”
I hated myself for bringing her close enough to see.
Clara covered her eyes.
A clean incision ran along the rabbit’s stomach.
Whoever took it found something.
Or expected to.
Nico searched the stuffing.
Nothing.
Then Clara said:
“Wait.”
She picked up the rabbit gently.
Checked one floppy ear.
“Gabriel used to repair her here too.”
She pressed along the seam.
Something clicked beneath her fingers.
A tiny plastic rectangle fell out.
MicroSD card.
Nico stared.
“So whoever opened the stomach missed it.”
Gabriel had created a decoy.
Smart.
I looked at Clara.
“Can I take it?”
Her first instinct was distrust.
Fair.
Then she nodded.
“Copy everything first.”
That surprised Nico.
I almost smiled.
“Yes.”
We used a clean laptop disconnected from the estate network.
The card contained spreadsheets.
Photographs.
Audio.
Scanned invoices.
Shipping manifests.
Account transfers.
At first, I did not understand.
Then Nico did.
“Boss.”
He pointed.
Three warehouses registered under Romano Logistics.
Official cargo:
Industrial machine parts.
Actual coded inventory:
Weapons.
Not ours.
Not sanctioned.
Payments from rival crews in Milwaukee and Detroit.
Money laundered through construction invoices.
Total over four years:
$31.8 million.
I stared.
“Gabriel found this.”
“Yes.”
“And the $2.7 million?”
Nico opened another file.
A transfer trail.
Gabriel had moved the money.
But not to himself.
To a frozen escrow account.
He had been trying to stop $2.7 million from leaving the company through another fake vendor.
The vendor beneficiary:
Ferraro Strategic Consulting.
My stomach turned.
Matteo.
Not Gabriel.
There were messages.
Matteo to an unknown number:
Bennett noticed the secondary route.
Reply:
Handle him before Romano sees anything.
Then:
Use the sister if necessary.
My vision darkened.
Clara saw my face.
“What?”
I turned the screen.
She read.
Her hand covered her mouth.
Another message.
Girl lives on estate. Useful pressure.
Lily.
A child.
Useful pressure.
Something inside me became very quiet.
Nico kept scrolling.
“More.”
An audio recording.
Gabriel’s voice.
“If Alessandro sees this, Matteo is finished.”
Then Matteo:
“He won’t see anything.”
Gabriel:
“You think I’m afraid of you?”
Matteo laughed.
“No.”
Then:
“But you have a sister.”
Clara sat down.
Her face went white.
Another sound.
A chair moving.
Then Gabriel:
“You stay away from Clara and Lily.”
Recording ended.
I looked at Clara.
“I was wrong.”
She said nothing.
“About Gabriel.”
Still nothing.
“I ordered you out because I believed his theft made your presence dangerous.”
Her eyes lifted.
“No.”
“What?”
“You ordered us out because punishment is easier when you don’t look at people.”
That hit cleanly.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Then the laptop chimed.
A hidden folder opened after another file finished decrypting.
One video.
Timestamp:
Two nights earlier.
Matteo inside my study.
My private study.
He stood beside my desk while I was away.
He placed something beneath the wood.
Nico immediately crossed the room.
Knelt.
Reached beneath the desk.
Pulled out a tiny listening device.
For months, perhaps years, Matteo had been hearing every order I gave.
Every argument.
Every private conversation.
Including the one about Clara leaving.
He had heard Lily ask:
“If I leave, will Mommy get to stay?”
My blood froze.
Then we found a text on the SD card timestamped last night.
Matteo to Anthony Bell:
If the kid runs, let her. She may take the rabbit.
Anthony:
And if she doesn’t?
Matteo:
Follow her anyway.
I closed my eyes.
Lily had chosen to leave because of me.
Matteo had turned that mistake into opportunity.
My order created the door.
He opened it wider.
Nico said:
“Anthony’s missing too.”
Of course.
Then Clara spoke.
“Gabriel is alive.”
I looked at her.
“How do you know?”
She pointed to the timestamp of one spreadsheet.
Yesterday.
The file had been updated less than twenty-four hours ago.
Gabriel was not dead.
He was still gathering evidence.
Still hiding.
Still being hunted.
Then another file appeared.
A scheduled note.
IF CLARA FINDS THIS, GO TO ST. JUDE’S BASEMENT. ASK FOR FATHER MICHAEL.
Clara stood.
“I’m going.”
“No.”
She turned.
My mistake.
I corrected.
“I’m going with you.”
Her face hardened.
“Why?”
“Because Matteo knows about the message now if he copied the rabbit.”
“He didn’t find the card.”
“He may know where Gabriel is anyway.”
Clara stared.
“You don’t get to decide where I go anymore.”
“No.”
I forced the word out.
It did not come naturally.
“But I’m asking you not to go alone.”
She studied me for a long moment.
Then nodded.
“One car.”
“Fine.”
“No army.”
“Fine.”
“No weapons around Lily.”
“She stays here.”
Clara’s expression sharpened.
“With who?”
Fair question.
Nobody in my estate felt trustworthy anymore.
Lily suddenly spoke from behind us.
“I go Mommy.”
Clara crouched.
“No, baby.”
“I don’t stay.”
Her eyes moved toward me.
Then the broken Poppy.
Fear.
Not of Matteo.
Of being left.
I understood.
Clara did too.
We took Lily.
One car.
Nico driving.
No visible weapons.
At St. Jude’s Catholic Church, Father Michael led us through a basement hallway.
Then opened a storage room.
A man lay on a cot.
Beard.
Bruised face.
Bandage around his ribs.
Clara stopped breathing.
“Gabriel.”
Her brother opened his eyes.
Then saw me.
His face became terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
“Alessandro.”
I stepped inside.
Gabriel tried to stand.
Failed.
I said the sentence I should have said before ever condemning his family.
May you like
“Tell me what happened.”
And for once, I listened before deciding who deserved punishment.
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