Chapter 5 - Caroline’s Locked Drawer
Dante barely slept.
At 6:10 the next morning, he walked into the home office Caroline had once used.
He had kept it almost untouched since she died.
Her books remained on the shelves.
A yellow scarf hung over the chair.
Three framed photographs sat beside the window.
For eighteen months, Dante had avoided opening her desk drawers.
It felt too much like invading something she might still return to.
Now he opened every one.
Bills.
Pens.
Old birthday cards.
Hospital paperwork.
Nothing.
Then he remembered something Caroline used to complain about.
“The bottom drawer sticks.”
Dante knelt.
It didn’t stick.
It was locked.
He had never noticed the tiny keyhole.
Michael arrived at seven.
By seven-thirty, a locksmith opened it.
Inside were three folders.
One was labeled LEO.
Another was labeled ROMANO FOODS.
The third had no label.
Dante opened the Leo folder first.
Trust paperwork.
Insurance documents.
A handwritten note.
Dante—
If you are reading this because something happened to me, please don’t let guilt make you ignore what feels wrong.
His hands shook.
Caroline’s handwriting.
She continued:
I found transfers I don’t understand. Patricia told me they were family reimbursements. Michael says they were not.
Dante looked at Michael.
“You knew?”
His cousin looked stunned.
“She asked me about two transactions before she died. I told her they looked unusual.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know what she was investigating.”
Dante returned to the letter.
I don’t know whether Patricia is stealing or covering for someone. I only know she became furious when she learned I asked questions.
Dante’s chest tightened.
Caroline had known.
The next paragraph hurt worse.
If Leo is born before I figure this out, I’m moving my insurance into a separate trust. I don’t want family money used to control our child.
Dante sat down.
The whole room blurred.
Caroline had anticipated Patricia’s manipulation.
And still, somehow, Patricia had gotten inside the trust.
The second folder contained printed financial reports.
Caroline had highlighted dozens of payments.
Some went to Eric’s companies.
Others went somewhere Dante didn’t recognize.
HARROW CONSULTING LLC.
$85,000.
$120,000.
$64,000.
Michael frowned.
“I’ve never heard of that vendor.”
Dante opened the third folder.
Inside was a small digital voice recorder.
His heart pounded.
Michael looked at him.
“You want me to leave?”
“No.”
Dante pressed play.
Caroline’s voice filled the room.
“If this is ever needed, my name is Caroline Romano. Today is October 11.”
Three weeks before Leo was born.
Dante gripped the recorder.
“I confronted Patricia this afternoon about unauthorized transfers from Romano Foods.”
Then Patricia’s voice appeared.
Caroline had recorded their conversation.
“You have no idea how this family works.”
Caroline replied:
“I know money is leaving without Dante’s approval.”
“You married into this family.”
“I married Dante. I didn’t marry your secrets.”
Patricia’s voice became colder.
“You think having his child makes you important?”
Dante closed his eyes.
Then Caroline said:
“If another dollar disappears, I’m telling him.”
Silence on the recording.
Then Patricia:
“If you do that, you’ll break this family apart.”
Caroline answered:
“No. Whoever stole the money already did.”
The recording stopped.
Dante stared at the device.
For the first time, Caroline was not just a memory.
She was a witness.
And she had been trying to warn him.
Michael slowly pointed toward the folder.
“What’s Harrow Consulting?”
Dante searched the company registration database.
The business belonged to someone neither man expected.
Not Patricia.
Not Vanessa.
Not Eric.
The registered owner was Robert Harrow.
Dante knew the name.
He had attended Caroline’s funeral.
May you like
He had hugged Patricia beside the grave.
And for more than twenty years, he had been Patricia Romano’s private attorney.
