Chapter 7 - THE SHEPHERD
Nobody told the household staff why the security protocol changed.
Doors were checked.
Credentials reissued.
Cameras reviewed.
Employees temporarily restricted from sensitive areas.
Nora hated how quickly the estate transformed from luxurious shelter into something that felt like a locked fortress.
Lorenzo noticed.
“You can leave.”
She looked at him.
“You’re saying that now?”
“Yes.”
“While there might be a spy inside the house?”
“I can move you to a hotel under protection.”
“That sounds worse.”
“Why?”
“Because then I’m alone with guards I don’t know.”
He nodded.
“Then choose.”
Nora stared.
That was new.
“I’ll stay.”
“Okay.”
“No conditions?”
“Don’t make me regret growth.”
She almost smiled.
The Shepherd had been Carlo Costa’s private security coordinator.
Only three people had ever held the role.
One died.
One retired.
One remained employed.
Teresa Bellini.
Lorenzo’s house manager.
The woman who had brought Nora tea the morning after Greg hit her.
Nora found it difficult to believe.
Teresa was sixty-three.
Silver hair.
Sensible shoes.
She knew everyone’s birthdays and threatened men twice her size if they walked on freshly polished floors.
“She’s been here since you were a child?” Nora asked.
Lorenzo nodded.
“She raised me after my mother left.”
“And Matteo?”
“Yes.”
Matteo sat across from them.
“She taught me how to cook.”
Vincent added:
“She taught Lorenzo how to apologize.”
Nora looked at Lorenzo.
“Clearly the lessons didn’t stick.”
He ignored that.
“Teresa would never work for Michael.”
“People probably said the same thing about Michael,” Nora replied.
That silenced him.
They did not confront Teresa immediately.
Instead, Elise reviewed internal communications.
A hidden account appeared in the estate network.
SHEPHERD.
Active three times during the last month.
Nora’s stomach tightened.
“Can you trace it?”
“Local access only,” Elise said. “Someone physically inside the property.”
“Locations?”
“Security office. Wine cellar. Old east hallway.”
Vincent looked at Lorenzo.
“Teresa has access to all three.”
“So do you,” Nora said.
Vincent turned.
“So does Lorenzo.”
Nora looked at Lorenzo.
“And dozens of security employees.”
Elise nodded.
“The username may be deliberately misleading.”
Exactly.
Someone wanted them to suspect Teresa.
Nora began thinking like an investigator again.
“Who benefits if Lorenzo stops trusting the person who runs his house?”
Vincent frowned.
“Michael.”
“Which means The Shepherd could be bait.”
Lorenzo looked at her.
“Or Teresa could be guilty.”
“Both are possible.”
He nodded.
No argument.
Progress.
That afternoon, Nora found Teresa in the greenhouse trimming dead leaves.
“Do you need something?” Teresa asked.
“Tea.”
“You hate the tea here.”
“I hate chamomile.”
“You’re holding chamomile.”
Nora looked down.
“Fine. I wanted to talk.”
Teresa smiled faintly.
“About whether I betrayed the family?”
Nora froze.
Teresa continued cutting leaves.
“You people whisper very loudly.”
“You know?”
“I know Lorenzo took my security card this morning and replaced it with one that no longer opens the east hallway.”
Nora sat.
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if Carlo were alive, he would tell Lorenzo to question everyone.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me.”
Nora studied her.
“Who was The Shepherd?”
Teresa’s scissors stopped.
“That name should be dead.”
“It isn’t.”
Teresa placed the scissors down.
“Carlo used it for his private security protocol. Not a person.”
Nora blinked.
“Vincent said it was a title.”
“Vincent was fifteen when Carlo created it.”
That was interesting.
“What was the protocol?”
“A contingency system.”
“For?”
“If Carlo believed the family had been compromised, The Shepherd allowed one trusted person to lock accounts, move family members, and transfer evidence.”
“Who was trusted?”
Teresa looked at her.
“Me.”
“So Vincent wasn’t entirely wrong.”
“No.”
“But the account active now?”
“Not mine.”
“Could Michael know the credentials?”
“No.”
“Could Matteo?”
“No.”
“Lorenzo?”
Teresa hesitated.
“Carlo intended to tell him.”
“But died first.”
“Yes.”
Nora leaned forward.
“Then who else knew?”
Teresa’s face changed.
“Stephen March.”
The doctor.
Again.
“He helped Carlo design the medical emergency component.”
Nora immediately called Lorenzo.
Within thirty minutes, they learned Stephen March had re-entered the United States two days earlier.
Flight from Lisbon to Chicago.
Passenger name flagged only after federal investigators began reviewing Matteo’s case.
He had checked into a hotel under his own name.
By the time police arrived, the room was empty.
On the bed sat one envelope.
Addressed:
LORENZO COSTA.
Inside was a key and a note.
YOUR FATHER WAS WRONG ABOUT MICHAEL.
Nora read it twice.
Lorenzo stood behind her.
“What does the key open?”
Teresa recognized it instantly.
“The old bank vault.”
“What bank?”
“Costa Community Bank.”
Vincent frowned.
“We sold that building years ago.”
“The vault remained.”
The old bank sat abandoned on the west side.
Police secured it before Lorenzo arrived.
Nora went too.
The key opened a safe deposit box untouched for nine years.
Inside lay a cassette recorder.
A passport.
And photographs.
The passport belonged to Stephen March.
The photographs showed Carlo Costa meeting privately with Michael.
Not arguing.
Laughing.
Signing documents.
Nora looked at Lorenzo.
“This doesn’t prove your father trusted him.”
“No.”
But the tape changed everything.
Carlo’s voice played first.
“Stephen, if anything happens to me, Michael is not responsible.”
Lorenzo stared.
Matteo swore.
Carlo continued.
“My sons will suspect him because I have deliberately allowed Michael to appear involved.”
Nora’s skin prickled.
“What?”
Carlo explained.
Someone else inside the family had been stealing from Costa accounts.
Carlo and Michael had staged arguments publicly to draw the thief out.
Matteo’s discovery of Michael’s transfers had been incomplete.
The transfers were part of the trap.
Matteo stared at the recorder.
“He lied to me.”
Lorenzo looked devastated.
The tape continued.
“The person I believe responsible is someone close to my sons.”
Nora leaned forward.
“Name them,” Carlo said.
Then the recording cut.
Silence.
The next section began minutes later.
Stephen March’s voice:
“Carlo, are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need to tell Lorenzo.”
“No. Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Lorenzo trusts him.”
Nora looked toward Vincent.
He went pale.
Lorenzo did not move.
Carlo continued.
“And Matteo loves him like a brother.”
Matteo whispered:
“No.”
Vincent stepped backward.
Nora looked between them.
Only one man fit both descriptions.
Vincent Costa.
Cousin.
Underboss.
Childhood friend.
The man who had stood beside Lorenzo every day.
Vincent shook his head.
“This is insane.”
Lorenzo stared at him.
“Vincent.”
“I didn’t steal from Carlo.”
Matteo looked shattered.
“You handled his books.”
“So did three accountants.”
“You knew every transfer.”
“Because it was my job.”
Nora watched him carefully.
Fear.
Anger.
But also something else.
Hurt.
Then the tape resumed.
Carlo:
“I believe Vincent is being used.”
Everyone froze.
Vincent’s head lifted.
“Not knowingly.”
Carlo continued.
“Someone has been accessing accounts through Vincent’s credentials. I suspect Stephen may know who.”
Nora slowly looked at the passport.
Stephen March.
The doctor who helped fake Matteo’s death.
The doctor who changed Carlo’s medication.
Maybe Michael was guilty.
Maybe Vincent was a tool.
But March had touched every layer.
Medical records.
Security systems.
Death certificates.
The tape continued.
Carlo coughed.
Then:
“If Stephen betrays me, Teresa knows what to do.”
Teresa’s face went white.
“What?” Lorenzo asked.
She looked genuinely stunned.
“I never heard this recording.”
“Did Carlo give you instructions?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Teresa’s eyes filled.
“He told me if anything happened to him, I was to protect you boys.”
“From who?”
“He never said.”
A loud bang echoed from the vault corridor.
Security shouted.
Lorenzo pulled Nora behind him instinctively.
Then he stopped himself and looked at her.
She nodded.
Fine.
The door opened.
Police entered.
They had found someone hiding in the basement.
An old man.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Stephen March.
They brought him upstairs.
He looked at Lorenzo.
Then Teresa.
Then Matteo.
His face collapsed.
“You found him.”
Matteo stepped forward.
“You identified a dead man as me.”
March lowered his eyes.
“I was forced.”
“By Michael?”
March laughed bitterly.
“No.”
Everyone froze.
Lorenzo’s voice hardened.
“Then by who?”
Stephen March looked directly at Teresa.
“You still haven’t told them?”
Teresa stared.
“Told us what?” Nora asked.
March’s eyes filled with fear.
“Michael didn’t order Carlo’s medication changed.”
Lorenzo stepped closer.
“Who did?”
March whispered:
“Teresa.”
The silence that followed felt heavier than violence.
Nora looked at the older woman.
Teresa did not deny it.
May you like
She simply closed her eyes.
And Lorenzo’s face broke.
