Chapter 6 - WHY BIANCA WANTED TERESA GONE
Teresa did not want Rocco involved.
That was her first reaction.
“No.”
Rocco stared across the kitchen.
“No?”
“I can find another school.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want Danny owing anyone.”
Rocco looked at the child.
He was upstairs asleep in one of the guest rooms.
Dry.
Warm.
Fed.
For some reason, knowing that still made Rocco angry when he thought about the steps.
“He already had the scholarship.”
“Through the foundation.”
“My foundation.”
“Bianca ran it.”
Rocco frowned.
That distinction suddenly mattered.
“What else did she control?”
Teresa hesitated.
“Mr. Bellandi—”
“Rocco.”
She looked surprised.
“You’ve been here six years.”
“Still your employee.”
“Yes.”
“But if we’re discussing someone who used my name to frighten you, call me Rocco.”
Teresa nodded.
“Okay.”
“What else?”
“She changed my schedule.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“Why?”
“She said evenings worked better.”
“But Danny?”
“I usually leave before school pickup.”
“So?”
“My neighbor helped.”
“Past tense.”
“She moved.”
Rocco understood.
“That’s why Danny came here tonight.”
“Yes.”
“Did Bianca know you had no childcare?”
“Yes.”
“And scheduled you anyway.”
“Yes.”
Rocco felt his jaw tighten.
“What else?”
“She cut two of my paid days.”
“Why?”
“She said household staff had too many benefits.”
“Did she have authority?”
“I thought you gave it.”
Rocco closed his eyes.
Again.
Everyone thought he had agreed.
Because Bianca said so.
“How much have you lost?”
“Please.”
“How much?”
“Maybe fourteen hundred dollars.”
Rocco reached for his phone.
Teresa said:
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“I was going to call payroll.”
“No check.”
He stared.
“I didn’t say check.”
“You have the face.”
“What face?”
“The rich man fixing things face.”
Rocco almost laughed.
“You’ve been talking to Danny.”
“He gets it from me.”
Rocco put down the phone.
“Fine.”
“What I want,” Teresa said, “is to know why.”
“Why she targeted you?”
“Yes.”
Rocco had been asking the same thing.
Then Matteo entered.
He had showered.
Borrowed Rocco’s clothes.
The shirt hung loosely from his thin frame.
“I know.”
Both turned.
Teresa frowned.
“Why?”
Matteo sat.
“Because Mom trusted you.”
Teresa looked confused.
“I cleaned for her.”
“She told me about you.”
“When?”
“In Connecticut.”
Rocco listened.
Matteo continued.
“She said if she couldn’t get me out herself, she needed someone in the house who still remembered loyalty without being part of the family politics.”
Teresa’s eyes filled.
“She meant me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She planned to.”
Matteo looked at Rocco.
“Mom kept records somewhere.”
“The recorder?”
“More.”
Rocco leaned forward.
“What more?”
“Financial files.”
“What kind?”
“Bianca’s.”
Rocco’s expression changed.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mom didn’t tell you?”
“She said she hid them with someone no Bellandi man would think to question.”
Both men looked at Teresa.
She stared.
“Me?”
Matteo nodded.
Teresa shook her head.
“She never gave me files.”
“Maybe not directly.”
Rocco thought.
“When did Mom die?”
Teresa answered automatically.
“November 8.”
“What happened around then?”
She looked confused.
“I don’t know.”
“Anything Lucia gave you?”
Teresa thought.
Then:
“A recipe box.”
Rocco stared.
“A what?”
“She gave me her old recipe box.”
Matteo started smiling.
“That sounds like Mom.”
Teresa frowned.
“I still have it.”
“Where?”
“My apartment.”
Rocco stood.
Teresa immediately said:
“No.”
He stopped.
“What?”
“You’re not bringing ten armed men to my building.”
“I wasn’t going to bring ten.”
“How many?”
“Three.”
“No.”
Matteo laughed.
Rocco gave him a look.
“What do you suggest?”
Teresa grabbed her coat.
“I go home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Bianca has people.”
“She’s arrested.”
“Perry isn’t.”
Teresa stopped.
Rocco continued.
“Someone guarded Matteo for years.”
She looked toward the stairs.
Danny.
That changed the calculation.
“Fine.”
“One car.”
“Two men.”
“One.”
“Teresa.”
“One.”
Rocco sighed.
“Fine.”
Enzo drove.
Rocco came too.
Teresa complained.
He ignored that part.
Her apartment was in Sunset Park.
Two bedrooms.
Small kitchen.
Children’s drawings on the refrigerator.
Nothing matched.
Everything looked lived in.
Rocco realized Danny’s entire living room could fit inside his dining room.
Teresa went to a high cabinet.
Pulled down an old wooden recipe box.
Flowers painted on the lid.
Lucia’s handwriting inside.
SAUCE.
SOUPS.
BREAD.
DESSERTS.
Rocco touched the cards.
His mother’s marinara.
Her Christmas biscotti.
Matteo stood beside him.
“She made terrible meatballs.”
Teresa stared.
“No, she didn’t.”
Rocco smiled.
“She did.”
“Both of you are wrong.”
For one moment, grief became warm.
Then Teresa removed the cards.
Nothing.
Matteo frowned.
“Check underneath.”
There was a false panel.
Of course there was.
Teresa pried it loose.
Inside sat a flash drive.
And one folded note.
Rocco opened it.
Teresa,
If I am gone before I explain this, give the drive only to Rocco after Matteo is safe.
Do not tell Bianca you have it.
Forgive me for involving you.
Lucia.
Teresa sat down hard.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve had this in my kitchen for three years.”
Rocco inserted the drive into Enzo’s secured laptop.
Folders appeared.
BANK.
MEDICAL.
MATTEO.
BIANCA.
ANTHONY.
FOUNDATION.
Rocco opened FOUNDATION first.
Dozens of transfers.
Bellandi Family Foundation money.
Scholarships.
Community grants.
School programs.
Some legitimate.
Some redirected.
A consulting company called BRI Holdings had received $2.8 million over five years.
Owner:
Bianca Russo Bellandi.
Rocco stared.
“She was paying herself.”
Enzo said:
“Looks like it.”
Teresa leaned closer.
Then pointed.
“What’s that?”
A folder labeled T.R.
Teresa Ruiz.
Rocco opened it.
Background checks.
Her apartment lease.
Danny’s school records.
Work schedule.
Photographs.
Teresa went pale.
“What is this?”
Rocco scrolled.
Bianca had been monitoring her.
For months.
Why?
Then they found an email.
From Bianca to Perry.
Lucia put something with the maid before she died. Teresa may not know she has it. Pressure her gradually. Do not search the apartment unless necessary.
Teresa covered her mouth.
Rocco’s face went cold.
Another email.
If Teresa quits voluntarily, easier.
Another.
Child schedule may help.
Rocco stopped.
The changed shifts.
Danny.
The scholarship.
The dinner rules.
The rain.
None of it had been random.
Bianca had been squeezing Teresa.
Trying to make her leave the Bellandi house.
Then search after she was gone.
Rocco whispered:
“She wanted you out.”
Teresa stared at the screen.
“Because of this drive.”
“Yes.”
“She thought I knew.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t.”
Matteo’s voice was quiet.
“That never mattered to Bianca.”
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway outside Teresa’s apartment.
Enzo immediately stood.
Rocco looked toward the door.
A knock.
Three times.
Teresa froze.
“Who knows we’re here?”
“No one,” Enzo said.
Another knock.
Then a man’s voice.
“Teresa?”
Her face went white.
Rocco whispered:
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
The voice came again.
“Teresa, it’s Perry.”
Matteo went completely still.
Rocco looked at him.
“That’s him?”
Matteo nodded.
Eleven years of imprisonment suddenly stood on the other side of a cheap apartment door.
Perry knocked again.
Then said:
“I just want the box Lucia gave you.”
Rocco looked at the recipe box.
Teresa looked at Danny’s school photo on the refrigerator.
Enzo reached inside his jacket.
Rocco lifted one hand.
“No shooting.”
Enzo frowned.
“What if he shoots?”
“Then revise.”
Despite everything, Matteo almost smiled.
Rocco stepped toward the door.
He opened it.
Perry saw him.
And stopped breathing.
Rocco smiled.
May you like
“Looking for a recipe?”
Perry ran.
