Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN ABOVE SUSPICION
Isabella Bolaro had been crying when Lorenzo returned home.
That was what made everything harder.
She sat beneath the portrait of Elena Bolaro, Lorenzo’s late wife, holding one of Nico’s tiny blankets against her chest.
Isabella had been thirty-four when Elena died.
For eight months she had behaved less like Nico’s aunt than his second mother.
She had attended every medical appointment.
Chosen his clothes.
Interviewed his nannies.
Sat beside his crib during fevers.
And when Lorenzo had become unbearable in his grief, Isabella had been the only person in the family willing to tell him so.
Now she looked up as he entered.
“How is he?”
“Stable.”
She rushed toward him.
“Thank God.”
She hugged him.
Lorenzo’s arms remained at his sides.
Only for a second.
Then he embraced his sister.
Over her shoulder, his eyes found Marco DeLuca, his chief of security.
Marco gave the smallest possible nod.
The surveillance was active.
Everyone was being watched.
Including Isabella.
“Crane says the disease may be progressing,” Lorenzo lied.
Isabella closed her eyes.
“Oh, Lorenzo.”
“He’ll come home tonight.”
“Should he?”
“Crane believes familiar surroundings may help.”
It was another lie.
Crane had not been allowed to speak to anyone since the previous night.
Isabella touched her brother’s face.
“You need sleep.”
“I’m fine.”
“You haven’t been fine since Elena died.”
The name cut through him.
Isabella saw it.
Her expression softened.
“She wouldn’t want you destroying yourself.”
Lorenzo stepped away.
“No.”
She watched him carefully.
“She wouldn’t want Nico suffering either.”
For the first time, Lorenzo wondered whether those words carried another meaning.
He hated himself for wondering.
At 8:00 that evening, Maya returned.
Nico had been brought home two hours earlier under strict medical supervision.
The official story remained unchanged.
Rare immune disorder.
Unpredictable complications.
No poisoning.
No trap.
Maya entered the nursery and immediately saw Isabella sitting beside the crib.
Their eyes met.
Isabella smiled.
“You must be Maya.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Isabella. Nico’s aunt.”
“I know.”
“Lorenzo told me you were very helpful last night.”
Maya glanced toward Lorenzo.
He stood by the window.
Expressionless.
“He gives terrible compliments.”
Isabella laughed.
To Maya’s surprise, Lorenzo almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Isabella stood.
“Nico’s lucky to have someone attentive.”
The words were warm.
Her eyes were not.
Maya felt it immediately.
Not hostility exactly.
Assessment.
Isabella was studying her.
“You love him very much,” Maya said.
“He’s all we have left of Elena.”
Maya watched her touch Nico’s hair.
Tenderly.
Naturally.
There was no visible cruelty in the gesture.
That disturbed Maya more than cruelty would have.
At 10:30, the household settled.
At 11:00, Maya prepared Nico’s feeding herself.
At 11:20, she deliberately left the bottle inside the warmer and stepped into the adjoining bathroom.
The hidden camera continued recording.
Thirty seconds passed.
Then a minute.
Then the nursery door opened.
Someone entered.
Maya watched from a small monitor concealed inside the bathroom cabinet.
It was not Isabella.
It was Sofia Marin, Nico’s nanny.
Sofia approached the warmer.
Maya’s pulse quickened.
The nanny picked up the bottle.
Turned it over.
Then reached into her pocket.
Maya stepped out.
“Don’t.”
Sofia froze.
The object fell from her hand.
A small key.
Maya stared at it.
Sofia’s face went white.
“Please.”
The nursery door opened behind them.
Lorenzo entered with Marco.
Sofia began crying immediately.
“Mr. Bolaro, I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
“I didn’t hurt him.”
Lorenzo picked up the key.
“What does this open?”
Sofia shook her head.
Marco stepped closer.
“What does it open?”
“The cabinet.”
“What cabinet?”
“The medicine cabinet downstairs.”
Lorenzo’s expression hardened.
“Why do you have a key?”
Sofia covered her face.
“She gave it to me.”
Maya felt the room tighten.
“Who?” Lorenzo asked.
Sofia sobbed.
“Miss Isabella.”
Lorenzo said nothing.
“She told me Nico’s medicine had to be added after warming,” Sofia continued. “She said Dr. Crane prescribed it privately because you were becoming paranoid about medications.”
Maya looked at Lorenzo.
His face had become unreadable.
“What medicine?”
“I don’t know. It came in small packets. I swear.”
“You put it in his bottles?”
“Only when she told me.”
“How many times?”
Sofia’s crying became harder.
“I don’t know.”
Lorenzo grabbed the crib rail so hard his knuckles whitened.
Maya moved between him and Sofia.
“Lorenzo.”
“Move.”
“No.”
Marco stared at her as though she had lost her mind.
Lorenzo’s eyes were black with fury.
“She poisoned my son.”
“She may have been manipulated.”
“She admitted putting something in his milk.”
“And if you terrify her now, we lose the person who can tell us why.”
His jaw worked.
Finally, he stepped back.
Maya turned toward Sofia.
“Who prepared the packets?”
“I never saw.”
“Who gave them to you?”
“Miss Isabella.”
“Did she ever explain what they were?”
“She said vitamins.”
“Then why hide them?”
Sofia looked down.
“Because Mr. Bolaro had ordered that nobody give Nico anything without his permission.”
“Yet you did it anyway?”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Miss Isabella said it was what Mrs. Bolaro would have wanted.”
Lorenzo flinched.
Maya noticed.
So did Isabella.
Because Isabella was standing in the doorway.
Nobody had heard her arrive.
Her face was pale.
“What exactly,” she asked softly, “are you accusing me of?”
Sofia turned.
“Miss Isabella—”
“You told me those packets came from Dr. Crane,” Sofia said.
Isabella stared at her.
“I did no such thing.”
Sofia’s mouth fell open.
“You—”
“I have never given you medication.”
“You gave me the key!”
Isabella looked at Lorenzo.
“This is insane.”
Lorenzo held up the key.
“Does it belong to you?”
“No.”
Marco spoke.
“We can check.”
“Then check.”
She sounded offended rather than frightened.
That was what bothered Maya.
Guilty people often overperformed innocence.
But innocent people could become furious too.
There still wasn’t enough.
Then the nursery monitor beeped.
Maya turned instinctively toward Nico.
His heart rate was rising.
Fast.
Too fast.
She rushed to the crib.
“He hasn’t eaten yet.”
Lorenzo went rigid.
“What?”
Maya checked Nico.
The baby’s cheeks were flushing.
His breathing accelerated.
Impossible.
Nobody had touched the bottle.
Unless—
Maya looked around the nursery.
The warmer.
The humidifier.
The medications.
The stuffed animals.
Then she saw it.
A tiny red mark on Nico’s ankle.
A puncture.
Fresh.
Someone had injected him.
And whoever had done it had known exactly when everyone would be watching the bottle.
“Call the hospital,” Maya shouted.
Lorenzo grabbed his phone.
Maya looked around the room.
Sofia was crying.
Marco was calling security.
Isabella stood frozen near the doorway.
And Dr. Victor Crane—
Maya’s blood went cold.
Crane was supposed to be under guard.
But he wasn’t in the room.
She turned toward Lorenzo.
“Where is Crane?”
Marco checked his phone.
Then his face changed.
“The guards assigned to him aren’t answering.”
Lorenzo stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
Marco was already moving.
“Lock down the house.”
The mansion alarms activated.
Steel security shutters descended across the lower windows.
Every exterior door locked automatically.
Footsteps thundered through the corridors.
Maya held Nico against her chest.
The infant screamed.
And somewhere beneath the Bolaro mansion, a hidden service door opened into the darkness.
Dr. Victor Crane stepped through it.
But he was not alone.
A woman followed him.
She removed the scarf covering her hair.
Security footage would later show only three seconds of her face.
Three seconds were enough.
Because when Lorenzo saw the recording, he stopped breathing.
The woman helping the doctor escape was impossible.
She had been dead for eight months.
It was his wife.
May you like
Elena Bolaro.
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