Chapter 8 - The Deeper Betrayal
Clara was still huddled on the floor, weeping softly into her hands, waiting for her own doom to arrive.
Maya stood up, looking down at the young nanny with a mixture of pity and stern disappointment. "You made a terrible mistake, Clara. Greed and fear are dangerous counselors. But you confessed before blood was spilled, and you gave us the truth."
Lorenzo looked at Clara, then up at Maya. "She’s an accomplice to attempted murder. She goes to federal prison just like Crane."
"No, she doesn't," Maya said calmly, surprising both of them.
Lorenzo frowned, his dark brows knitting together. "Excuse me?"
"If you throw her in a hole with Crane, the syndicate wins," Maya said, stepping closer to Lorenzo’s desk. "Think about it, Mr. Bolaro. Dr. Crane is a glorified pill-pusher with a gambling debt in Rosemont. He didn't mastermind a high-level psychological and chemical operation against the most dangerous man in Chicago all by himself. He didn't have access to your private security schedules, your floor plans, or your personal calendar."
Lorenzo’s eyes widened slightly as the pieces clicked together in his sharp, criminal-mastermind brain. "You think someone else is behind this. Someone inside my own inner circle."
"I know it," Maya said firmly. "Crane was just the technician. Someone else orchestrated the access, the cover story, and the long-term plan to destabilize you."
Maya turned her gaze back down to Clara. "Clara. Look at me again. Who else gave you instructions? Who told you how to swap the bottles without setting off the house cameras?"
Clara trembled violently, swallowing hard as she looked up. She glanced toward the hallway, then whispered a name that made the blood run cold in Lorenzo’s veins.
"It was... it was Elena."
Lorenzo froze. The color vanished entirely from his face.
"Elena?" Lorenzo repeated, his voice cracking slightly—the first sign of genuine human vulnerability he had shown all night. "My sister-in-law? Elena died eight months ago. In childbirth. Along with my wife."
"No, Mr. Bolaro," Clara sobbed, tears spilling fresh down her cheeks. "Not your late wife’s sister. Your business manager. Elena Vance."
Maya’s breath caught. Elena Vance? The name echoed in her head like a distant bell. Where had she heard that name before?
May you like
Then, like a lightning bolt, the memory hit her. The missing person flyers plastered across billboards along I-10 months ago. The financial shell corporations. The name whispered in the dark corners of the financial district.
Elena Vance wasn't just a business manager. She was the woman who controlled the entirety of the Bolaro empire's legitimate offshore holdings—and she had mysteriously vanished three months ago, right around the time Nico’s strange "illness" had first begun.
