Signora Esposito appeared at Alessia's door with a leather-bound ledger. "Don Moretti wishes you to review the household accounts," Signora Esposito said. "There are discrepancies he would like you to examine."
Alessia took the ledger. It was heavy, filled with columns of numbers written in precise script. She spent three days tracing every line. Meridionale Imports appeared repeatedly. Their prices were ten to fifteen percent higher than comparable vendors. Their payments were routed to a bank account that did not match their listed address.
She cross-referenced the address. Meridionale Imports was listed in Naples, but the bank account was in a small town in northern Italy. The name on the account was a holding company. The holding company's director was Matteo Rinaldi. The wine supplier. The one whose gaze had lingered on Enzo's study door.
Alessia closed the ledger. She had a choice. She could report what she had found immediately, proving her loyalty and her value. Or she could wait. Keep the information. Use it as leverage. She pressed the loose panel and wrote on her paper: Meridionale Imports. Overcharging since March. Payments routed to northern holding company. Director: Matteo Rinaldi. Watched study door.
That evening, at dinner, Enzo set down his fork. "Have you found anything in the accounts?" he asked.
"Minor discrepancies," Alessia said. "I am still reviewing."
Enzo's eyes narrowed. "You are lying. You press your thumb against your forefinger when you are concealing something."
She looked down. Her thumb was pressed hard against her forefinger, the flour-dusted skin white with pressure. She had never noticed. She forced her hand to relax.
"What did you find?" Enzo asked.
"A vendor is overcharging. Meridionale Imports. The payments are routed to a holding company in northern Italy. The director is Matteo Rinaldi. The wine supplier. Approximately forty-seven thousand euros over six months," Alessia said.
Enzo was silent. Then he picked up his wine glass, Rinaldi's wine, and took a slow sip.
"You did not tell me immediately," Enzo said.
"I wanted to be certain," Alessia replied.
"You wanted to decide whether to use the information for yourself."
She did not deny it. He would see through any lie.
Enzo set the glass down. "I am not angry. You are doing exactly what I would do in your position. Gathering leverage. Building options." He met her eyes. "But you should know that Matteo Rinaldi is not merely a wine supplier. His family was once allied with mine. His father was killed in a deal orchestrated by my father. I allowed him access to my household as a gesture of goodwill."
"And he has been stealing from you," Alessia said.
"Yes." Enzo's voice was flat. "The question is whether he is simply greedy or whether the theft is part of something larger."
"What will you do?" she asked.
"Nothing. For now." He leaned back in his chair. "You will continue to observe. If Rinaldi returns to the villa, you will watch him. You will tell me what you see." He paused. "And you will keep your notebook hidden better. Signora Esposito found it this morning."
Alessia's blood went cold. Her hand flew to the loose panel in her mind.
"She brought it to me. I read it." His dark eyes held hers. He reached into his jacket and withdrew her scrap of paper, placing it on the table between them. "I added a note."
Alessia stared at the paper. Slowly, she reached out and turned it over. Beneath her own cramped handwriting was a single line in sharp, elegant script.
You missed one. I also hate the smell of jasmine.
She looked up. Enzo's expression was unreadable.
"You are not punishing me," she said.
"No. I am teaching you." He stood. "You want to survive in this world. Then learn to move without leaving footprints."
He walked out. Alessia sat alone, the paper in her hands. He had found her secrets. He had read them. And instead of destroying her, he had returned them with a lesson. She pressed her thumb against her forefinger and forced herself to stop. She had a tell. She would learn to control it. She would learn to move without footprints. And she would never underestimate Enzo Moretti again.