Chapter 4 — A Call I Couldn't Let Anyone Discover

When I came out of the bathroom, I photographed the signature and date first.

Then I took the original back to the examination room.

Dr Rossi was seeing another patient. I told the receptionist I would wait. At the end of the corridor, Luca came towards me.

"What's wrong?"

"There's something missing from my records."

"I can collect it for you."

"I'll get it myself."

The examination-room door opened. I went in carrying the original.

The doctor studied the paper for some time. After checking her computer, she made a call. She asked the person on the line to wait while she checked, then placed the document on her desk.

"This consent form wasn't entered today. A document submitted earlier was printed with the others."

"Who submitted it?"

"We'll have to establish that."

"I don't remember signing it."

She looked up at me.

"I'll put that on the record. I'll also ask for any disclosure based on this form to be suspended."

I took the paper back.

"I'm keeping this printout."

She nodded.

Andrea was gone when I emerged into the corridor.

I called, but he didn't answer. I sent him a message asking to see the record of calls he'd received. Once the message showed as sent, I turned off the screen.

When I climbed into the car, Luca watched me in the mirror. I spoke before he could.

"Did you call Father?"

He held the steering wheel.

As I waited for an answer, Mother fastened her seat belt beside me. The metal clasp clicked unnaturally loudly.

"Yes."

Luca had answered.

I turned towards the window.

It was the shortest and clearest thing he'd said to me all day.

Father was waiting at the entrance when we reached home.

"I hear something upset you."

"There's a paper that says I signed it."

I held out my phone. The original was tucked deep inside my bag.

Father didn't enlarge the photograph.

"Ah. The day we called a doctor to the villa."

"A doctor came?"

"You fell down the stairs."

He looked at my temple. There was a mark the size of a fingernail beneath my hair. I'd noticed it in the mirror the next morning and assumed I'd struck something while drunk. Luca had also said I'd fallen.

"Nobody told me."

"You should have said you couldn't remember."

"I did."

My voice rose.

"I asked then, too. Why my clothes had been changed. Who'd taken me to bed. Everyone said it was because I'd been drinking."

Father's expression hardened. I looked at Luca behind him. His eyes dropped.

"I don't remember signing."

"Let's call the doctor back and check."

"I'll check myself."

Father started to reach towards me, then stopped.

"Of course. If that's what you want."

I put my phone away. Father was already answering another call.

That afternoon, I opened my account records. Everything loaded except the files Andrea had kept on my money. When I rang the employee responsible, he said he'd look into it.

Ten minutes later, my access returned briefly.

I managed to check two transactions before the connection cut out.

When I called again, someone else answered.

"The person in charge has changed."

An internal transfer, they said. After that, I couldn't find the employee's name in the company directory either.

Nicola left the house two days later. His father had finally suspended the port deal. From dawn that day, Father's phone hardly stopped ringing.

Nicola's keys were returned only when he actually left. I heard he'd cancelled my access pass. If I wanted another one, he said, I would have to ask him myself.

Luca remained at the house. Matteo was allowed out to settle the engagement arrangements between our families, but came to see me every morning. Andrea appeared only when he had documents to deliver. He never answered my request for his call records.

On the third day after my hospital visit, I went to his office.

The curtains were drawn across the room's windows. One of Renato's men stood outside the door. He moved aside when he saw me.

Andrea rose from his desk. His wrist was bandaged.

"Show me the call that supposedly came from my number that day."

He looked towards the door.

"Closing it would only make things look stranger, wouldn't it?"

I left it open.

Andrea handed over his phone. It showed an incoming call under my name on the evening of the party. I photographed the time and date. There was no matching call in my own records.

"Did you hear my voice?"

"No. I answered, said your name, and the call ended."

"Then you don't know it was me."

"A message arrived afterwards."

He scrolled to a short text.

Don't follow the plan. I told Father.

I read it twice.

"I didn't send this."

Andrea closed his eyes, then opened them.

"I thought you had. That's why I didn't move all the money."

"You should have checked with me."

He glanced towards the door. I gave back his phone and left. The man waiting outside looked first to see whether I was crying.

In the car, Ethan's card slipped from between my papers. I tucked it away before Luca could look in the mirror. The corner pressed into my finger.

Once I was home, I dialled the number. I hadn't even decided what to say if he answered.

"Ms Bellone."

He said my name first.

"How did you get my number?"

"From my brother. I've never called you."

I sat on the edge of the bed. Andrea had given his brother my number, yet he'd never thought to ask whether I'd really sent the message that appeared under my name.

"Did I look like a liar again today?"

"You didn't say anything today."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No."

I laid his business card on my knee. I almost told him about the message I hadn't sent, then stopped.

"Can I trust you?"

"Tell me what you want me to do first."

I let out a little laugh. It faded while he stayed on the line, waiting. Had he answered straight away when he saw my name? If I asked, it would change the reason I'd called. Footsteps sounded outside.

"I can't talk now."

"Is this a call you're not supposed to be making?"

I looked at the door.

"I think it is."