Chapter 8
Abigail ran upstairs.
Six rooms were safe.
In Ellie’s room, the five-year-old remained asleep beneath a pink blanket.
Beside her lay an envelope.
Abigail opened it in the hallway.
Inside was a photograph of all seven children leaving school.
On the back were eleven words.
Walk away from Sloan’s records if you want them to stay safe.
Leonardo read it.
Then walked directly to his office safe.
Abigail followed.
He removed a handgun.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Someone entered my daughter’s bedroom.”
“I know.”
“They photographed my children.”
“I know.”
“They threatened them.”
“And if you go to Sloan carrying that, he wins.”
Leonardo’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“What is a father supposed to do?”
Abigail held up the photograph.
“Be patient enough to destroy the man permanently instead of frightening him for one night.”
“I don’t want patience.”
“Your children need you to have it.”
That stopped him.
Abigail took a breath.
“I’ve already copied everything.”
“To whom?”
“A state financial-crimes investigator recommended by your outside auditor. No famous agency. No press. A small task group that handles corporate fraud.”
Leonardo stared.
“You did this without telling me?”
“I did it before someone could frighten you into doing something stupid.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
“What happens now?”
“We give Everett what he thinks he wants.”
Two days later Abigail requested a private meeting.
She told Everett she was terrified.
She said she would leave New York if he guaranteed the children would remain safe.
Everett agreed immediately.
That was his third mistake.
Abigail entered his office alone.
A confidentiality agreement rested on the desk.
Everett pushed it toward her.
“Sign.”
She read it.
“You want me to admit I misunderstood the accounts.”
“You did misunderstand them.”
“And then Leonardo gives up control of his freight network.”
“He keeps his home. His hotels. Most of his money.”
Everett smiled.
“For a man with his history, I’m being generous.”
Abigail remained standing.
“You’ve spent three years inflating his balance.”
The smile weakened.
“You created fake management charges. You redirected repayments through twelve shell companies and used them to purchase Costa voting shares.”
Everett’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But Abigail saw it.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“There is also an internal ledger downstairs.”
Now the smile disappeared.
“What ledger?”
Abigail gave him the reference number from memory.
Everett stood.
“What exactly did you see?”
“Enough.”
He walked around the desk.
“Where are your notes?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
Abigail said nothing.
His hand closed around her wrist.
Hard.
“Where?”
She met his eyes.
“You underestimated the wrong cook.”
The office doors opened.
Leonardo walked in.
Behind him were state investigators carrying court-authorized warrants.
Leonardo’s gaze dropped immediately to Everett’s hand.
His voice was soft.
“Take your hand off my wife.”
Everett released her.
Investigators moved forward.
For once, Leonardo did nothing.
No threats.
No shouting.
No violence.
May you like
He simply crossed the room and stood beside Abigail.
Within hours, locked archives were opened.
