Chapter 16 - The Second Payment
The first payment was exactly what Dante remembered.
Ten million dollars.
A divorce settlement transferred to Serafina Bellini's personal account five years earlier, shortly after Leonardo's second birthday.
The agreement granted Dante primary legal and physical custody, with provisions for Serafina to request future contact.
She had never exercised that right.
But the second payment was different.
Four million eight hundred thousand dollars had left an investment account controlled by the Moretti Legacy Trust the following morning.
The beneficiary was listed as Serafina Bellini.
Yet the receiving account belonged to an obscure financial-services company registered in Delaware.
"Bellini Family Advisory Holdings," Helena read aloud.
Dante stared at the computer screen.
"I've never heard of it."
"Neither have I," Helena replied. "But Nathaniel Voss appears in its historical filings as an authorized representative."
I rested my hands against the desk.
"Could Serafina have received the money through that company?"
"Possibly. Or someone used her name as a convenient explanation for an unauthorized transfer."
Dante turned toward the window.
Outside, Leonardo was chasing a golden retriever across the lawn.
The dog belonged to one of the academy's teachers.
Leo had named him Captain Waffles.
Watching them together should have brought comfort.
Instead, I kept thinking about the money that had been stolen while that same child sat alone in a silent bedroom.
"What happens now?" I asked.
Helena closed her laptop.
"We preserve the original records, request certified banking documentation, and turn what we've found over to the appropriate investigators."
Dante nodded.
"And Serafina?"
"We need her account of that second transfer."
I watched his reflection in the window.
"Can you speak to her without threatening her?"
He gave me a tired smile.
"I'm learning."
That evening, Evelyn arranged a meeting with Serafina's attorney.
Voss refused to attend.
Instead, he sent a message stating that his client would not discuss her finances while litigation was pending.
An hour later, I received a call from an unfamiliar number.
"Clare?"
I recognized Serafina's voice immediately.
"What do you want?"
"To talk."
"Then speak through your attorney."
A bitter laugh came through the phone.
"Which attorney? The one who tells me what to say or the one who tells me what I'm allowed to know?"
I sat straighter.
"Are you saying Voss is withholding information?"
Silence.
Then she whispered, "I didn't receive four million eight hundred thousand dollars."
My pulse quickened.
"How do you know about that?"
"Because Nathaniel just called and told me to say I did."
Outside the office, a door closed.
I lowered my voice.
"Serafina, you need independent legal advice."
"I know."
"Then get it."
"Clare, there's something you don't understand. Nathaniel doesn't simply represent people. He collects their mistakes."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
For the first time, I wondered whether Serafina was more frightened than greedy.
The next morning brought another discovery.
Helena's investigator had located the original probate records associated with Isabella Moretti's estate.
One document purported to amend the legacy trust's oversight provisions.
It removed the independent educational protector.
It gave the managing trustee broader authority to authorize expenses based on medical assessments.
And it eliminated the requirement for annual review by an outside education specialist.
The amendment carried Isabella's signature.
But the certification date was nine days after her death.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
"Not necessarily proof by itself," Helena cautioned. "The date could be a clerical error. We need the original documents, witnesses, and filing history."
Dante read the document again.
"My mother would never have removed that safeguard."
His voice was flat, but I recognized the terrible pressure building underneath.
Years ago, that pressure might have ended with a body floating beneath a Brooklyn pier.
Now he simply said, "Give everything to Evelyn."
That afternoon, I returned to the academy.
I needed to remember why this fight mattered.
In the art classroom, Leonardo sat beside a little girl named Sophie.
Sophie had cochlear implants. Her family used both spoken English and ASL, and she was fascinated by Leo's drawings.
Together, they were designing a castle inhabited entirely by dragons.
Leo looked up when I entered.
Clare, come see.
I knelt beside him.
The castle had seven towers, a bright blue moat, and an enormous dragon wearing a crown.
Who is that? I asked.
The king.
Why does he look angry?
Leo considered my question.
He thinks everyone wants his treasure.
I smiled sadly.
And do they?
Leo shook his head.
No. His little dragon just wants him to play.
I swallowed the sudden tightness in my throat.
That was it.
The whole ugly truth.
Powerful adults had spent years fighting over fortunes while a little boy waited for someone to sit on the floor beside him.
Then Sophie tugged my sleeve.
"Miss Clare, are they really closing our school?"
I froze.
"Who told you that?"
"My mom was crying. She said some people think the money is bad."
Leo watched my face carefully.
I made sure he could see both my hands.
The school is facing a difficult problem, I signed. The grown-ups are working to solve it.
He looked around the colorful classroom.
Then he signed something I would remember for the rest of my life.
This place helped children find friends. Please don't let money make it disappear.
I pulled both children into a careful hug.
"I'll do everything I can," I whispered.
But that evening, the academy's financial director called.
Its primary operating account had been temporarily frozen pending review of transactions connected to the disputed trust.
May you like
Payroll was due in eleven days.
And Nathaniel Voss had just filed a request to remove Dante from financial oversight of the entire foundation.
