Chapter 8 - The War Leo Refused

Every instinct in Leo’s old life told him to move first and ask questions later.

That instinct had kept him alive through betrayals, raids, and violent men who believed patience was weakness.

It also told him to put armed people at every Kensington property before sunset.

Beatrice watched him pace the secure facility conference room while Mateo argued into a phone.

“We have enough for warrants,” Mateo said after ending the call.

“With which agency?” Leo asked.

“State investigators and a federal financial crimes team.”

Leo laughed bitterly. “Alistair has judges at his dinner table.”

“Not all of them.”

“He has police captains on his Christmas list.”

“Not all of them.”

“And how many people die while we discover which ones he owns?”

Mateo lowered his voice. “If you start a private war, every piece of legitimate evidence becomes contaminated.”

“I don’t care about legitimate.”

“You will when Victoria walks free because her lawyers argue you coerced witnesses.”

Leo’s jaw clenched.

Beatrice remained quiet until both men looked at her.

“What?” Leo asked.

“You already know what I think.”

“Say it.”

“Do not give Alistair the ending he expects from you.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed.

“What ending is that?”

“The dangerous crime boss loses control. Violence erupts. Evidence disappears. Alistair becomes the respectable philanthropist caught in somebody else’s vendetta.”

Mateo nodded.

Leo looked irritated.

Beatrice continued.

“He built his whole plan on your reputation. He knew nobody would believe Sofia over him if the truth led back to Rossi business. He knew secrecy would protect him.”

Leo’s expression changed.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Become inconveniently lawful for forty-eight hours.”

Mateo laughed.

Leo stared at her.

“That may be the most insulting suggestion anyone has made to me.”

“It is temporary.”

“That helps.”

They divided the evidence.

Originals went to an attorney Leo trusted who had no ties to the Rossi organization.

Digital copies went to two investigative teams in separate jurisdictions.

The recorder went to a forensic audio lab.

The scarf went to an independent laboratory.

Mateo arranged protection for Celia and Hurst.

Most importantly, Leo did not send soldiers to Kensington properties.

He stayed with Lily.

That was harder than violence.

At the lake house, Lily sat at the kitchen table drawing a family picture.

Beatrice noticed three people.

Lily in the middle.

Leo on one side.

Beatrice on the other.

Bunny was enormous and floating above all of them.

“What is that?” Beatrice asked.

“Bunny is watching.”

“From heaven?”

“No. He is a giant.”

“Of course.”

Leo entered carrying his phone.

Lily frowned. “No work.”

He immediately put it facedown on the counter.

“It was Mateo.”

“That is work.”

“He is also family.”

Lily considered this loophole.

“Fine.”

Beatrice smiled.

Leo looked at the drawing.

He went still.

Lily noticed.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“You look sad.”

“I am not sad about the picture.”

“Are you sad about Mommy?”

The directness of children left nowhere to hide.

Leo sat beside her.

“Yes.”

Lily kept coloring.

“Me too sometimes.”

He watched her.

“I learned something about Mommy today.”

Lily stopped.

“Bad?”

“Something bad happened to her.”

“Did Victoria do it?”

Beatrice inhaled sharply.

Leo did not lie.

“We think Victoria helped people hurt Mommy.”

Lily’s crayon rolled from her fingers.

“Why?”

Leo looked toward Beatrice.

She gave the smallest nod.

“Because they wanted things Mommy was protecting,” he said. “And because Victoria wanted things that were not hers.”

“Like you?”

Leo’s face changed.

“Did she say that?”

Lily shrugged. “She said one day she would be the lady of the house and Mommy’s pictures would come down.”

Beatrice felt anger rise again.

Leo asked, “When?”

“A long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lily frowned.

“I did.”

Leo closed his eyes.

Beatrice remembered Lily telling him Victoria made her uncomfortable.

Another warning dismissed.

Leo opened his eyes.

“You did.”

Lily colored again.

“You were busy.”

He swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No.” His voice was gentle. “It isn’t. But I am going to do better.”

Lily looked up.

“Can Bee help?”

Leo glanced at Beatrice.

“If Bee wants to.”

The answer mattered.

Not Beatrice will.

If Beatrice wants to.

She felt it.

“I want to,” she said.

Lily smiled and drew a heart between them.

Later, after Lily slept, Beatrice stood on the porch with a cup of tea.

Leo joined her.

He kept a respectful distance.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For making me tell her the truth without making her carry all of it.”

“She will ask more when she is ready.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

He looked at her.

“I’m trying.”

“That I believe.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth for one second.

Beatrice noticed.

Her pulse changed.

Leo looked away first.

“This is a terrible time.”

“For what?”

He gave her a look.

She knew exactly what.

“Probably.”

“I am your employer.”

“Technically.”

“You are injured because of someone I brought into your life.”

“I was in your life before Victoria attacked me.”

“Not like this.”

“No.”

He leaned against the railing.

“I do not want gratitude confused with something else.”

Beatrice’s chest tightened.

“That is the first sensible thing you’ve said about this.”

He looked almost offended.

“About us?”

“There is no us.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“Exactly.”

Beatrice smiled despite herself.

Leo smiled too.

Then his phone rang.

The moment disappeared.

Mateo’s voice came through.

“Victoria wants to talk to Beatrice.”

Leo’s smile vanished.

“No.”

Beatrice held out her hand for the phone.

Leo looked at it.

“You said you would ask.”

His jaw tightened.

“Do you want to speak to her?”

“Yes.”

“I hate this.”

“I know.”

He handed her the phone.

Mateo connected the call through a recorded legal line.

Victoria’s voice sounded smooth again.

“Beatrice.”

“Victoria.”

“I hear you have become very important.”

“No. People just started listening.”

A pause.

“You always were smug beneath the apron.”

Beatrice almost laughed.

“You tried to drug me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You locked Lily in the cellar.”

“Children invent stories.”

“She is six.”

“Exactly.”

Beatrice looked at Leo. His hands were fists.

“Why did you call?”

“To help you.”

“I doubt that.”

“You should leave Leo.”

Beatrice said nothing.

Victoria continued.

“He will destroy you. He destroys everyone eventually.”

“Is that what happened to Sofia?”

Silence.

Beatrice’s heart hammered.

Victoria recovered quickly.

“Careful.”

“Why?”

“You were always careless when you were scared.”

Beatrice stared at the phone.

Victoria knew.

The night of the bombing.

“You saw me,” Beatrice said.

Another pause.

“I saw a lot of people that night.”

“You were wearing a red scarf.”

Victoria inhaled.

Leo’s eyes sharpened.

Beatrice continued.

“It had Hurst’s blood on it.”

Victoria’s voice changed by half a degree.

“What?”

That was genuine surprise.

Beatrice understood.

Victoria had not known Sofia kept the scarf.

“Your father should have cleaned up better.”

Victoria snapped, “My father had nothing to do with that scarf.”

Mateo, listening remotely, stayed silent.

Beatrice asked, “Then who did?”

Victoria realized the mistake.

“You’re trying to trap me.”

“I’m a maid, remember? Not smart enough.”

“Do not play games with me.”

“You called me.”

Victoria’s breathing sharpened.

Then she said, “You have no idea what Alistair does to people who embarrass him.”

Leo and Beatrice exchanged a look.

Not my father.

Alistair.

Distance.

Fear.

Beatrice lowered her voice.

“Are you afraid of him?”

Victoria laughed, but it sounded wrong.

“I am afraid of no one.”

“Then why are you calling me instead of him?”

Silence.

“Leave Chicago,” Victoria said.

“Why?”

“Because by tomorrow none of this will matter.”

The line went dead.

Mateo called back immediately.

“She knows he is burning the network.”

Leo took the phone.

“Can you locate her?”

“Her attorneys have her at the Kensington hotel downtown.”

Beatrice shook her head.

“No.”

Leo looked at her.

“She would not warn me if she felt safe there.”

Mateo heard.

“So where is she?”

Beatrice thought of Victoria’s terror behind arrogance.

“Somewhere her father cannot reach easily.”

Mateo went quiet.

Then he said, “There is a charity gala tonight at the Fieldcrest Museum. Kensington Foundation annual donor dinner. Alistair is scheduled to speak.”

Leo frowned. “He did not cancel?”

“No.”

Beatrice understood first.

“He wants to look untouchable.”

Mateo said, “And move money while everyone is watching the scandal.”

Leo’s old instinct returned to his face.

“No.”

Beatrice looked at him.

“No what?”

“You are not going.”

She waited.

He closed his eyes.

Then he tried again.

“Do you want to go?”

“Yes.”

“I still hate this.”

“I know.”

“Then we go together.”

Beatrice looked at him.

Not in front.

Not behind.

Together.

The word felt more dangerous than the gala.

Before they left, Beatrice went upstairs to check on Lily. The child was awake beneath a mountain of blankets, pretending not to be.

“You are wearing the worry face,” Lily said.

“So are you.”

“I heard Mateo say gala.”

Beatrice sat on the edge of the bed. “We have to go somewhere tonight and help people find the truth.”

“Is Victoria there?”

“Maybe.”

Lily hugged Bunny. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Daddy says brave means you go even when you are scared.”

Beatrice smiled. “Your daddy sometimes says useful things.”

“Sometimes?”

“Do not tell him I said that.”

Lily leaned forward and wrapped both arms around Beatrice.

“Come back.”

The simple request struck harder than any threat.

“I will do everything I can.”

“Not a promise?”

“A real promise is only about what I can control.”

Lily thought about that. “Then promise you won’t make yourself small because Victoria is mean.”

Beatrice went still.

Children heard more than adults understood.

“I promise.”

When Beatrice returned downstairs, Leo was waiting in the hall.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“She gave me instructions.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Probably.”

He offered his arm, then stopped halfway.

Beatrice saw the question in the gesture.

She took his arm.

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“Together,” she said.

“Together,” he answered.