Chapter 7
Rocco opened the door.
Adrian Vale stood in the corridor, one hand resting on the silver handle of a walking cane. He was older than I remembered from the photographs, but not frail. His gray hair was combed neatly back, and his dark coat fit him with careful precision.
His gaze moved from Rocco to Vivien, then settled on me.
For the briefest moment, surprise crossed his face.
Then it vanished.
“Lorenzo,” he said. “You’ve grown into your father’s house.”
“Apparently not enough to recognize who was trying to take it from me.”
Adrian’s expression remained composed.
“I see Vivien has told you a story.”
“She has shown me an agreement bearing both your signatures.”
His eyes shifted toward the desk.
Vivien had already gathered the papers and placed them inside a leather portfolio. She stood beside the fireplace, pale but steady.
Adrian looked back at me.
“Then you know she approached me.”
“I know you approached her first.”
“A distinction without importance.”
“It matters to me.”
He entered the study without waiting for permission. Rocco moved aside but remained close to the door.
Adrian surveyed the room.
“The portrait is still here,” he said. “Your father believed it made him look wiser than he was.”
“You knew him well.”
“I knew his business.”
“You knew he suspected you were moving money from his accounts.”
Adrian’s mouth tightened.
“Your father was ill near the end. He became suspicious of everyone.”
“My mother says he kept a ledger.”
For the first time, Adrian’s composure faltered.
It was slight—a pause, no more than the time required to draw breath—but I saw it.
So did Vivien.
“What ledger?” he asked.
I held his gaze.
“The one you have been searching for.”
Adrian’s eyes moved to my hand.
I had kept the ledger partly concealed against my side, but the edge of its blue cloth was visible beneath my jacket.
His face changed.
Not with anger.
With recognition.
“You found it.”
“No,” I said. “My father left it for me.”
Adrian took one step toward the desk.
Rocco’s voice remained calm.
“Please stay where you are.”
Adrian stopped.
He looked at Rocco, then at me.
“You think this man protects you?”
“He does.”
“Your father trusted people too easily.”
“My father trusted you.”
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“And I repaid him by keeping his affairs from collapsing.”
“By transferring properties into companies you controlled?”
