Chapter 3 - THE NOTEBOOK THAT SHOULD HAVE DISAPPEARED
Giana did not call Sergio immediately.
She wanted to.
Every frightened, angry part of her wanted to demand that he explain why her father had been accused of stealing money he might actually have been trying to protect.
But she remembered Lucia's warning.
They had spent fifteen years living with a story controlled by the Bianke family.
Handing the only surviving documents to another Bianke without independent advice would be a terrible way to begin searching for the truth.
So Giana photographed the notebook and Isabella's letter, preserved the originals, and contacted a legal-aid organization that helped workers with wage disputes and employment-related claims.
A volunteer attorney referred her to Elena Marquez, who had experience with financial misconduct and historical employee-benefit disputes.
Elena agreed to review the documents.
Their first meeting took place in a small office above a pharmacy in Queens.
Giana arrived carrying a folder and an anxiety she could barely conceal.
Elena read Isabella's letter first.
Then Pietro's notebook.
The notebook contained dated entries showing discrepancies between money approved for injured maritime workers and money actually disbursed.
Some pages recorded account references.
Others listed denied claims.
Several included the names of companies that appeared in the fund's financial statements as administrative contractors.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Seabright Consulting.
Giana had never heard of it.
Elena circled the name.
“Do you know who owned this company?”
“No.”
“Your father seems to have suspected it was receiving money without providing the services listed.”
Giana leaned forward.
“Does that prove Enzo stole it?”
“No.”
Elena's answer was immediate.
“It establishes that your father identified transactions he considered suspicious. We'll need independent financial records to determine what actually happened.”
Giana swallowed.
“And Isabella's letter?”
Elena read the final paragraph again.
It described Pietro meeting Isabella to show her evidence of irregularities in the workers' assistance fund.
Isabella wrote that she initially believed Vittorio and Enzo when they said the discrepancies resulted from administrative errors.
After Pietro died, she tried to obtain the complete records.
She was told the internal investigation had closed.
Later, she obtained copies of several reconciliation statements that did not match the explanation she'd been given.
She enclosed them with the letter to Teresa.
And she wrote:
I cannot prove what caused Pietro's accident. I will not accuse anyone without evidence. But I now believe his concerns about the fund were justified, and I am ashamed that I allowed his name to be destroyed while I remained silent.
Giana pressed her lips together.
Her father had not been publicly cleared.
But Isabella had known something was wrong.
And she'd written it down.
Elena looked at Giana.
“This is worth investigating.”
“Can we make the Biankes open their records?”
“Possibly, depending on the legal claims and what the documents support. We should first establish what records still exist and what lawful avenues are available.”
Giana stared at the notebook.
“Will it be expensive?”
Elena's expression softened.
“There may be ways to obtain further assistance. Let's identify the options before you decide what you can afford.”
Giana nodded.
For the first time in years, someone was discussing her father's case without treating his reputation as a lost cause.
Then Elena asked:
“What do you want from this?”
Giana thought about the rent notice.
Her mother's medication.
The accusations that followed her family everywhere.
Then she answered.
“I want to know whether my father was telling the truth.”
She paused.
“And if he was, I want the people who knew it to stop calling him a thief.”
Sergio began his own investigation that week.
Mara Ellison reviewed the old Bianke Maritime records and advised him to appoint independent forensic accountants.
The review immediately encountered problems.
Several original account files were missing.
Other documents had been transferred to older storage systems.
Some payments had been categorized so broadly that the underlying beneficiaries were difficult to identify.
Enzo Rinaldi insisted everything had been properly audited.
He reminded Sergio that Vittorio had personally approved the original investigation into Pietro Falcone.
He also reminded Sergio that the organization was in the middle of negotiating an important expansion.
“Reopening this now could cost us millions,” Enzo said.
Sergio stared at him.
“Then it will cost us millions.”
Enzo's expression hardened.
“You don't understand how much damage an accusation can cause.”
Sergio almost laughed.
“Pietro Falcone understood.”
Silence.
Enzo leaned back.
“You're taking the word of a waitress over the records your father left behind.”
“No.”
Sergio placed a folder on the desk.
“I'm asking independent professionals to examine those records.”
“There's a difference.”
Enzo stood.
“Vittorio would never have allowed this.”
For several seconds, Sergio said nothing.
Then he replied:
“My father is dead.”
“And I'm beginning to think the fact that nobody challenged him while he was alive may be part of the problem.”
Enzo left without another word.
Sergio watched the door close.
For years, he'd believed Enzo's ability to make problems disappear was evidence of loyalty.
Now he wondered how many of those problems had been legitimate questions that Enzo simply refused to answer.
Two days later, Giana returned to Belladonna for her evening shift.
Her manager, Richard Pell, was waiting outside the staff office.
“Giana.”
“Yes?”
“I need to speak with you.”
Her stomach tightened.
Of course.
The incident with Sergio had been the subject of kitchen gossip since the previous evening.
Some employees thought she'd been brave.
Others thought she'd been foolish.
A few had already begun calling her the seven-thousand-dollar waitress.
Richard closed the office door.
“Mr. Bianke's people contacted us.”
Giana's hands went cold.
“What did they say?”
“They asked whether you were being disciplined for the incident.”
“I haven't been.”
“Good.”
Richard folded his arms.
“Let's keep it that way.”
Giana stared.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I don't want any more confrontations with VIP guests.”
She felt heat rise in her face.
“He was the one who offered me money to speak a dialect.”
Richard sighed.
“You could have laughed.”
“I wasn't laughing.”
“Giana, people like Mr. Bianke spend more on one dinner than this entire dining room earns in tips during a normal evening.”
She looked at him.
“And that means what?”
“It means you need to understand how the business works.”
Giana thought of the men laughing around Sergio's table.
The seven thousand dollars.
The way she'd nearly agreed because she was frightened of losing her apartment.
Then she remembered her grandmother's words.
Hunger was no shame.
Cruelty was.
She took a breath.
“I'm here to serve food, answer questions about the menu, and treat guests respectfully.”
“I can do all of those things.”
“But being humiliated for entertainment isn't part of my job.”
Richard stared at her.
Then looked away.
“Just get back to work.”
Giana left the office.
Her knees were shaking.
She had not won anything.
She still needed the paycheck.
But she had said what she believed without apologizing for existing.
That was something.
At the end of her shift, the bartender handed her a small envelope.
“Someone left this for you.”
Giana frowned.
“Who?”
“Mr. Bianke's assistant.”
Her stomach tightened.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Giana,
I offered you seven thousand dollars because I thought watching you respond would entertain my guests. It was disrespectful. You did not owe me a performance, and I should not have put you in that position.
I am sorry.
If you are willing to speak with me about Pietro, my attorney can coordinate with yours. You owe me no answer.
Sergio Bianke
There was no check.
No cash.
No expensive gift.
Giana read the note twice.
Then folded it.
The apology did not make Sergio trustworthy.
But at least he had finally spoken to her without turning money into the center of the conversation.
May you like
She placed the note in her bag.
Then returned home to the notebook her father had left behind.
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