Chapter 7 - The Shadow of Bernardo
The Rossi estate in Lake Forest was a vast European-style mansion set behind ten-foot wrought-iron gates, surrounded by dense oak forests and high-security cameras.
By midnight, Claire had been settled into a master guest suite on the second floor—a warm, luxurious room featuring a roaring marble fireplace, a king-sized bed covered in Egyptian cotton sheets, and a private balcony overlooking the lake.
A female doctor hired by Mateo had examined her ribs, applied soothing medical salves to her bruises, and provided her with soft silk pajamas and mild pain medication.
After sleeping for ten uninterrupted hours, Claire woke up to the smell of fresh espresso and warm pastries.
She pulled on a soft ivory cashmere robe left for her on the velvet bench and stepped out onto the sunlit balcony.
Down on the stone terrace below, Mateo stood talking to Gianna and two men dressed in dark suits. Mateo was wearing a simple dark sweater and trousers, holding a leather folder in his hand.
As if sensing her presence, Mateo looked up.
His eyes softened instantly when he saw her standing in the sunlight. He said a few words to Gianna, handed off the folder, and walked inside the house.
Two minutes later, a soft knock sounded at her bedroom door.
“Come in,” Claire said, turning around.
Mateo opened the door, holding a tray with a silver coffee pot, two porcelain cups, and a plate of fresh fruit.
“Good morning, Chiara,” he said gently, setting the tray on the round table near the fireplace. “How are your ribs today?”
“Much better,” she admitted, walking over to sit down. “The medication the doctor gave me helped a lot.”
Mateo poured two cups of rich espresso, handing one to her.
“I have news,” Mateo said smoothly, taking a seat across from her.
Claire’s hands tightened around her cup. “About Gavin?”
“Gavin Bennett fled the city three hours ago,” Mateo reported calmly. “He packed a bag, took forty thousand dollars from his bank’s reserve vault, and attempted to drive across the state line to Indiana. The state police intercepted him near Gary.”
Claire blinked, surprised. “He stole from his own bank?”
“He was desperate,” Mateo smiled dryly. “He owes money to people who don't negotiate. He will spend the next eight to twelve years in a federal penitentiary for grand larceny.”
A massive weight seemed to lift off Claire’s chest, allowing her to take her first deep, uninhibited breath in four years. Gavin was gone. He was locked away behind bars, unable to ever touch her again.
“Thank you, Mateo,” she whispered.
“That is not the only news,” Mateo continued, his tone turning serious, his dark eyes locking onto hers.
Claire frowned. “What else?”
Mateo reached into his sweater pocket, pulling out a printout of an encrypted international wire transfer log.
“When Gianna processed Gavin’s financial records last night,” Mateo explained, “we found something unusual. Every month for the last three years, five thousand dollars was deposited into Gavin’s personal account from a shell corporation registered in Nassau.”
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Claire stared at him, confused. “Why would a shell company pay Gavin?”
“Because Gavin wasn't just a random man you met in a coffee shop seven years ago, Chiara,” Mateo revealed, his voice dropping into a deadly register. “He was placed in Chicago by your Uncle Bernardo.”
