Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN MATTEO BURIED
Nadia Volkov had not died in an ordinary car accident.
Matteo admitted that the following morning.
We were sitting in a conference room at a Manhattan hotel that had been cleared by police and private security.
I had refused Matteo’s mansion.
I had refused his penthouse.
A neutral hotel with my lawyer present was the compromise.
Matteo placed a file in front of me.
Nadia's vehicle photographs.
Front-end damage.
Brake line.
A cut.
Clean.
Deliberate.
I stared.
“You knew?”
“For nine days.”
“Why hasn't this been public?”
“Because whoever did it believed I thought it was an accident.”
I looked at him.
“You were pretending.”
“Yes.”
“To catch them?”
“Yes.”
“And Mila?”
His jaw tightened.
“She was supposed to be with Nadia.”
My blood went cold.
“Supposed?”
“Nadia changed plans that morning.”
Mila had developed a mild fever.
Nadia left her with a nanny.
Then drove alone.
Twenty minutes later, her brakes failed on an elevated highway.
She died before paramedics reached her.
Matteo whispered:
“If Mila had been in that car…”
He stopped.
He didn't need to finish.
I thought about my twins.
Different tragedy.
Same unfinished sentence.
“Why was Mila on the jet?”
“I was moving her to Switzerland.”
“Why?”
“Because I stopped trusting my own security.”
“And you brought three bodyguards.”
“Men I selected personally.”
“Viktor knew.”
“Yes.”
“So your system is compromised anyway.”
His face hardened.
“Yes.”
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Then Rachel said:
“We need to know why Viktor told Elena to stay near the baby.”
Matteo nodded.
Nadia’s private files were brought in.
Not by Volkov employees.
By federal investigators already examining the medical-shipment fraud after Luca's card surfaced.
That changed everything.
This was no longer a mafia family solving itself.
Good.
Among Nadia’s files was a journal.
Paper.
Handwritten.
She had apparently trusted servers as little as I now did.
One passage mentioned Luca.
L.R. thinks Viktor may not be stealing the shipments himself. He believes someone is using Viktor’s companies to make him look responsible.
I stared.
“So Luca didn't think Viktor did it.”
Matteo leaned closer.
Next line:
Viktor offered to help us find the internal source. I do not fully trust him, but he knows the old routes better than Matteo.
The parking garage photograph made sense.
Luca and Nadia were meeting Viktor because he was helping them.
Maybe.
Then another passage.
Luca thinks the real breach is someone with access to both Volkov Aviation and maternity security. That list is very short.
Maternity security.
Mila.
I looked at Matteo.
“Who knew Nadia’s delivery plans?”
He went still.
“Our doctor.”
“Hospital.”
“Me.”
“Viktor.”
“My chief of staff.”
“Who?”
“Anton Sokolov.”
Name meant nothing to me.
To everyone else, apparently it did.
Rachel asked:
“Role?”
Matteo answered:
“Chief operating officer.”
Anton had worked beside Matteo for twelve years.
Managed schedules.
Aircraft.
Properties.
Charities.
Medical arrangements.
Everything.
“Where is he now?”
Matteo called his security chief.
No answer from Anton.
His apartment?
Empty.
Office?
Gone.
Phone?
Off.
Matteo closed his eyes.
“Of course.”
But the journal continued.
I am afraid Anton knows about Mila’s feeding issue.
I frowned.
“What feeding issue?”
Matteo looked confused.
“She didn't have one.”
Then he remembered.
Nadia had tried introducing formula at six weeks.
Mila developed severe vomiting and refused subsequent bottles.
The pediatrician suspected sensitivity and advised a different formula.
Nadia decided to continue breastfeeding.
The formula brand?
One supplied by a charity network tied to Volkov medical imports.
My skin prickled.
“Did anyone test it?”
“No.”
“Do you still have it?”
Matteo's face changed.
“Yes.”
The unopened cans were at his house.
Federal investigators collected them.
Testing took hours.
While we waited, Mila woke.
Her crying began softly.
Every adult in the room looked at me.
I hated that.
I was not her mother.
I was not a machine.
I was also the only person she had successfully fed from in twelve hours.
Matteo came toward me carrying her.
Then stopped.
“May I ask?”
That mattered.
“Yes.”
Rachel arranged privacy in an adjacent room.
I fed Mila.
She relaxed almost immediately.
I cried again.
Less violently this time.
I whispered:
“You don't know me, sweetheart.”
Her tiny hand curled around my finger.
“You don't owe me anything either.”
When I returned, test results had arrived.
The formula contained a contaminant.
Not enough to kill an adult.
Potentially dangerous to an infant.
The pediatrician confirmed it could explain Mila’s earlier vomiting.
Matteo became completely still.
“They were poisoning her?”
Rachel corrected:
“Someone tampered with or substituted product. We don't yet know who.”
Facts.
Good.
Then the investigator said:
“The lot number matches a shipment processed through Volkov Aviation six weeks ago.”
Anton controlled aviation.
My stomach tightened.
Matteo whispered:
“Why?”
The investigator answered:
“Perhaps to create a medical crisis.”
“For what purpose?”
No one knew.
Then I remembered Viktor’s call.
The child needs you now. Stay close to her.
Maybe he knew the formula was unsafe.
Maybe that was why he sounded almost relieved that I had fed Mila.
He wasn't threatening her.
He was warning us.
Matteo looked at me.
“We need to find Viktor.”
My phone rang again.
Same unknown number.
Viktor.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
He laughed softly.
“Finally asking the correct question.”
“Did you know Mila’s formula was contaminated?”
“Yes.”
Matteo grabbed the phone.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Viktor became quiet.
“Because Anton monitors your calls.”
Matteo froze.
“You could have come to me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Nadia came to me.”
“And now she's dead.”
Silence.
Matteo's face changed.
“You think I killed her.”
Viktor sighed.
“I think grief makes powerful men easy to direct.”
That sentence landed.
Then:
“Anton wants you to believe I killed Nadia.”
“He wants Elena to believe I killed Luca.”
“And he wants both of you angry enough to stop asking what connects the fires, the shipments, and Mila.”
I asked:
“What connects them?”
Viktor answered:
“A trust.”
“What trust?”
“The Volkov Children’s Medical Foundation.”
Matteo stared.
It was Nadia’s charity.
Millions moved through it every year.
Viktor continued:
“Anton has been stealing from it for seven years.”
“Then why kill Luca?”
“Because Luca found where the money went.”
“Where?”
A pause.
Then:
“Not offshore.”
“Where?”
Viktor’s voice lowered.
“Into Matteo’s own companies.”
May you like
The call ended.
And for the second time in twenty-four hours, Matteo discovered that the empire carrying his name might have been built partly from crimes committed behind his back.
