Chapter 6 - The Digital Trap
While the staff remained locked in the drawing room under Marcus's watchful eye, Maya and Lorenzo retreated to Lorenzo’s private study across the hall.
The study was dark, wood-paneled, and dominated by a massive mahogany desk covered in monitors displaying various security feeds around the estate.
"Did you see her?" Maya asked quietly as she closed the heavy door behind them.
Lorenzo turned from the desk monitors. "See who?"
"Clara. The daytime nanny," Maya said, leaning against the edge of the desk. "She wasn't just scared of you, Mr. Bolaro. She looked like someone who had just realized her hiding place had collapsed."
"Clara has been with us for six months," Lorenzo frowned, walking over to a small minibar to pour himself a finger of amber scotch, though he didn't drink it. "Agency-vetted. Excellent recommendations. Why would she hurt Nico? She adores the boy."
"People do desperate things when they're backed into a corner," Maya replied. "Debt, blackmail, unrequited devotion, outside pressure. Powerful men like you, Mr. Bolaro, make very powerful enemies. Sometimes, getting to you means going through the people who protect your vulnerabilities."
Lorenzo set the glass down hard on the counter, his jaw clenching. "If someone used my son to get to me..."
"We need proof," Maya interrupted gently. "Circumstantial suspicion won't hold up, and more importantly, it won't lead us to the person pulling the strings behind the scenes. Because let’s be honest: Clara is twenty-four years old and barely makes enough to cover her student loans. She didn't invent custom pharmaceutical dosing caps on her own. Someone gave them to her. Someone with money, access, and a very specific motive."
Lorenzo looked at her sharply. "You think Crane is involved."
"Dr. Crane has been treating Nico for eleven days," Maya pointed out logically. "Every time the baby had a seizure or a temperature spike, Crane conveniently adjusted the 'rare condition' diagnosis, prescribing experimental immune boosters that conveniently masked the sedative symptoms in blood panels. He was covering the tracks."
Before Lorenzo could respond, the study door clicked open, and Marcus stepped inside, holding a sleek, silver tablet.
"Boss," Marcus said, his voice flat and serious. "We searched the staff quarters. We didn't find the caps in anyone's lockers. But we checked the digital access logs on the kitchen pantry smart-lock."
Marcus tapped the screen, bringing up a time-stamped access record.
"Someone accessed the specialized formula storage cabinet at 4:15 p.m. yesterday," Marcus continued. "Using an administrative override code."
"Whose code?" Lorenzo demanded.
May you like
"Dr. Crane’s," Marcus replied, looking straight at Lorenzo. "And... secondarily, it was accessed using Clara’s staff keycard at 8:00 a.m. this morning."
Lorenzo’s eyes flashed with a lethal fury. "Bring them both in here. Now."
