Chapter 21 - THE SIX MILLION DOLLARS
I accepted the money.
Not really.
Federal agents created an escrow structure that made the transfer appear complete.
Devereux watched through lawyers.
Roman stayed away.
That was essential.
Martin expected Roman Vascari to dominate any crisis involving his wife.
Instead, Roman attended Clara’s school performance.
He sat in the third row while our daughter wore cardboard butterfly wings and forgot every line except:
“I AM A BUTTERFLY.”
She shouted it twelve times.
Roman cried anyway.
Meanwhile, I met Devereux.
He came to my foundation office personally.
Seventy-one.
Silver hair.
Beautiful suit.
Grandfather smile.
He kissed my cheek.
“I knew Roman’s mother.”
“I know.”
“She would admire what you built.”
The audacity almost impressed me.
“Would she?”
“Isabella cared deeply about women who lacked choices.”
He knew exactly which language to use.
Choice.
My language.
“I understand your foundation is receiving a large legacy.”
“Apparently.”
“You should be careful.”
“Why?”
“Money attracts scrutiny.”
There it was.
The warning hidden inside advice.
I smiled.
“Roman says the same thing.”
His eyes changed slightly.
He wanted to know how much Roman knew.
So I lied.
“My husband thinks everything is dangerous.”
Devereux relaxed.
Very little.
Enough.
“You’ve done something remarkable with him.”
I hated that sentence.
“As if he’s a dog I trained?”
Devereux smiled.
“As if love softened him.”
“No.”
I leaned back.
“Consequences did.”
For the first time, Martin Devereux stopped smiling.
Good.
Before he left, he placed a business card on my desk.
“If questions arise about the trust, call me before federal authorities complicate matters.”
I looked at the card.
“Why would federal authorities care?”
His smile returned.
“They always care when a Vascari touches money.”
After he left, Agent Avery emerged from the adjacent office.
Every word recorded.
Not enough for prosecution.
Enough to know we had made him nervous.
Then my phone buzzed.
Roman.
A photograph.
Clara in butterfly wings.
Below it:
She has threatened three children with metamorphosis.
I laughed.
For five minutes, life was normal.
Then Avery’s phone rang.
His expression changed.
“What?”
May you like
He looked at me.
“Luca Moretti was attacked thirty minutes ago.”
