Chapter 6 - The Trust Matteo Never Intended Carlo to Keep

Matteo listened without interrupting.

That was worse than anger.

Nia stood beside the bed while Enzo described the greenhouse, Tomas’s coerced escape, the cloned security key, and the messages on the prepaid phone. Keller had removed most of Matteo’s emergency equipment, but the room still smelled like antiseptic and stale fear.

When Enzo reached the message about the trust, Matteo looked toward the windows.

“Leave us.”

Enzo stiffened. “Matteo—”

“Everyone except Nia.”

The nurses went first. The guards followed. Enzo remained until Matteo met his eyes.

“Go.”

The door closed.

Nia folded her arms.

“You fired Carlo from something.”

Matteo’s mouth twitched. “You have developed confidence quickly.”

“I almost got threatened by a burner phone because I recognized your poison. I’m charging extra for politeness.”

A weak laugh escaped him, followed by a grimace.

Then his expression changed.

“The Costa Family Trust controls the legitimate companies. Real estate, shipping, hospitality, construction. Carlo managed the trust for nine years.”

“And you removed him.”

“Six months ago.”

“Why?”

“Because he stole from it.”

Nia waited.

“How much?”

“Eighteen million dollars that I could prove. Possibly more.”

She stared.

“And you kept him around?”

“I removed his authority quietly and gave him ninety days to return the money.”

“Why?”

“He is my cousin.”

“That explanation has not aged well.”

“No.”

Matteo looked older than he had before the poisoning.

“Carlo’s father raised me after mine died. He was more brother than uncle. When Carlo began losing money, I thought I could force him to correct it without destroying the family.”

“What was he spending it on?”

“Investments. Gambling. Political access. A private fund that promised impossible returns.”

“So he stole eighteen million dollars and you gave him a deadline.”

“Yes.”

“When did the deadline end?”

Matteo looked at her.

“Three days from now.”

The answer fitted too neatly.

If Matteo died before then, Carlo’s theft might remain buried beneath estate confusion and succession fighting.

“What happened after the deadline?”

“I intended to turn the evidence over to our attorneys and remove him permanently from every company.”

Nia sat in the chair beside the bed.

“Did Carlo know?”

“He knew enough.”

“Who else knew?”

“Enzo. My lawyer. The trust’s outside accountant.”

“Names.”

Matteo lifted one eyebrow.

“You are interrogating me.”

“Your last twelve doctors did not.”

That earned another faint laugh.

“Benjamin Hale is the lawyer. Marissa Keene is the accountant.”

“Could either have told Carlo exactly what you had?”

“Hale would not.”

“That is not an answer about Keene.”

Matteo’s silence became one.

Nia leaned forward. “Carlo did not build this entire plan alone. He cloned security credentials, cultivated poison at a separate property, arranged access to your medical routine, manipulated a guard, and had someone search my apartment within hours. Maybe he organized it, but he had help.”

Matteo’s eyes narrowed.

“Marissa handled the records that exposed him.”

“Then she knew where the bodies were buried.”

“Financially.”

“Still bodies.”

The door opened without permission.

Enzo entered.

“Tomas’s wife and son were found.”

Matteo pushed himself higher.

“Alive?”

“Yes. Motel outside Fairhaven. Scared, unharmed.”

Nia exhaled.

Enzo handed Matteo a tablet.

“Carlo paid for the room through a corporate card issued by KM Advisory.”

Matteo went still.

Nia noticed.

“What is KM Advisory?”

“Keene-Marsh,” Enzo said. “Marissa Keene’s consulting company.”

There it was.

The first connection.

Enzo continued. “Hale has been trying to reach her for two hours. Her office says she left yesterday for a conference.”

“Which conference?” Nia asked.

“No conference.”

Matteo’s face became cold.

“Find her.”

Enzo nodded.

Before he could leave, Nia asked, “What exactly did Marissa discover about Carlo?”

Matteo looked at Enzo.

Enzo looked at Matteo.

Again, the silent exchange.

Nia stood.

“If you keep deciding what I’m allowed to know, I’m going home.”

“You are not going home,” Enzo said.

“Then stop treating me like furniture with a bodyguard.”

Matteo closed his eyes briefly.

“Tell her.”

Enzo exhaled.

“Carlo moved money through property purchases. Inflated prices, fake renovation contracts, shell companies.”

“And Marissa caught him.”

“Yes.”

“What else?”

Enzo hesitated.

Matteo answered.

“She found payments to a private laboratory.”

Nia felt the air change.

“What laboratory?”

“Northwell Diagnostics.”

Keller used Northwell for several of Matteo’s specialized tests.

Nia had heard the name that night.

Her pulse quickened.

“Were any of Matteo’s toxicology samples sent there?”

Enzo looked toward the door.

“Yes.”

“Then this is not only about poison.”

Nia stood.

“It is about making sure no one found it.”

Matteo’s face hardened.

For days, everyone had assumed twelve specialists had failed because foxglove was obscure.

Now another possibility sat in the room with them.

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Matteo asked for every trust file to be copied outside the estate before anyone contacted Marissa. Nia noticed the change in his thinking. He was no longer trying to contain embarrassment inside the family. He was preparing for the possibility that family itself was the breach.

At least one test might not have failed at all.