Chapter 7 - Rachel
Everything I knew about Rachel rearranged itself.
Four years of loyalty.
Birthdays.
Coffee.
Arguments.
Late-night work.
She had sat beside me at Isabella’s memorial.
She had helped me choose the emerald dress I wore to Il Cielo.
She had suggested the red heels.
She had known exactly where my black coat hung.
And her father had apparently spent years planning Alessandro’s death.
“Why work for me?”
I asked.
Alessandro answered.
“To reach me.”
Simple.
Cruel.
Effective.
“But four years?”
“Long games are usually the dangerous ones.”
Marco said.
I hated how reasonable that sounded.
Police searched Rachel’s employment records.
Her identity was expertly built.
University.
Tax history.
Rental leases.
Everything.
But the first twenty years were synthetic.
Rachele Rinaldi had become Rachel Kim after studying in California.
She changed hair.
Lost weight.
Built a new life.
Then applied to my foundation.
Why me?
Because at the time I had just started dating Alessandro.
I had accidentally hired a sleeper agent into my own life.
Except the word agent made her sound professional.
Detached.
What we found was more personal.
Rachel’s mother, Celeste, eventually agreed to speak directly with me.
We met in a hospital conference room.
Celeste looked at least ten years older than her photographs.
“Did Rachel poison me?”
I asked.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she loved you.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s a strange defense.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Then where is she?”
“Hiding.”
“From us?”
“From Bianca.”
Now we had returned to Bianca.
“Explain.”
Celeste folded her hands.
“Vittorio raised Rachele to believe the Morettis destroyed our family.”
“Did they?”
“In some ways.”
She looked at Alessandro.
“Your father used Vittorio.”
“Vittorio used everyone.”
“Both can be true.”
Fair.
“Vittorio wanted Rachele close to you.”
She looked at me.
“But she became close to Elena instead.”
I thought of Rachel staying beside me when my father had surgery.
Rachel finding a replacement venue when a charity event flooded.
Rachel once sleeping on my sofa because I had pneumonia and refused a private nurse.
Was all of that real?
Maybe.
That was the hardest kind of betrayal.
The kind containing truth.
“What happened before the anniversary?”
Celeste continued.
“Rachel discovered Bianca was using one of Vittorio’s old plans.”
“The dessert.”
“Yes.”
“Why not warn me directly?”
“She tried.”
“How?”
“She placed a note in your apartment.”
I stared.
“I never saw it.”
“Where?”
“Inside your red shoes.”
My skin chilled.
The same shoes that later disappeared.
“Someone removed them.”
“Yes.”
“Bianca?”
“Possibly.”
“Why didn’t Rachel tell me face-to-face?”
“Because Bianca had Noah.”
The room went silent.
I looked toward Alessandro.
He had not known.
“What?”
Celeste continued.
“Bianca found Lucia’s children weeks ago.”
“She threatened Noah.”
“Rachel knew.”
“She believed if she warned you openly, the boy would die.”
My stomach twisted.
“Then Emma?”
“Was supposed to be somewhere else that night.”
“What does that mean?”
“Rachel arranged for a church volunteer to take both children to a shelter.”
“Emma ran away.”
“To Il Cielo.”
A six-year-old girl had accidentally destroyed an assassination plan because she refused to stay where adults placed her.
I almost laughed from the absurdity.
“What did Rachel do at Il Cielo?”
“Nothing.”
“Was she there?”
Celeste hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Security room.”
Alessandro’s eyes sharpened.
“Inside my restaurant security?”
“Using an employee credential.”
“She watched.”
“Yes.”
“Why not stop Elena?”
“She saw Emma reach Alessandro.”
“And assumed the warning worked.”
I closed my eyes.
Then Alessandro switched the desserts.
Rachel saw it.
Too late?
“Did Rachel know I ate it?”
“Yes.”
“What did she do?”
“She called Santoro anonymously.”
That explained why his medical team arrived so quickly.
He had claimed coincidence.
It wasn’t.
Rachel had helped save me after helping create the circumstances that nearly killed me.
Messy.
Human.
Infuriating.
“Where is she?”
I asked again.
Celeste handed Marco a number.
“Call once.”
“Whose?”
“My daughter’s.”
Marco dialed.
Speaker off.
He spoke.
Listened.
Then handed the phone to me.
My pulse accelerated.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then:
“Elena.”
Rachel’s voice.
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not an answer.”
“I couldn’t let Bianca see me come to you.”
“Bianca is missing.”
“I know.”
“Did you poison Alessandro’s cake?”
“No.”
“Did you know about it?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two days.”
I gripped the phone.
“You worked beside me for four years.”
“I know.”
“You knew someone planned to kill him.”
“Yes.”
“And you told no one?”
“I tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
Silence.
“That’s fair.”
Her calm made me angrier.
“Why did Bianca do it?”
“She thinks Alessandro is destroying what should belong to her.”
“The company?”
“The family.”
“Why the black lily?”
“Because my father created it.”
I frowned.
“The invitation symbol was Caterina’s.”
“The original was.”
“Vittorio turned it into something else.”
“A threat.”
“A signature.”
“A promise that deaths would look like mourning before they happened.”
I felt sick.
“Where is Bianca?”
“I don’t know.”
“Rachel.”
“I truly don’t.”
“What do you know?”
She took a breath.
“She wants the June fourteenth date.”
“For Alessandro.”
“Yes.”
“Why wait?”
“She doesn’t have to.”
“She wants to.”
“Why?”
“Because Vittorio believed symbols make people easier to control.”
“Vittorio is dead.”
“His ideas aren’t.”
“Are you involved?”
Another silence.
“I was.”
Alessandro’s face hardened.
“How?”
I asked.
“I gave my father information.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Schedules.”
“Relationships.”
“Arguments.”
My stomach turned.
“Did you ever give him information that hurt someone?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is not good enough.”
“I know.”
“Come in.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Bianca will kill my mother.”
Celeste shook her head.
Rachel could not see.
“She’s here.”
“What?”
“Your mother is with us.”
Long silence.
Then Rachel began crying.
Real crying.
Broken.
Childlike.
“Mom?”
Celeste took the phone.
“I’m here.”
Everything collapsed after that.
Rachel agreed to surrender.
She gave detectives a location.
A church in Brooklyn.
But when officers arrived, they found blood on the floor.
A broken phone.
May you like
And a black funeral lily pinned to the altar.
Rachel had been taken first.
