Page 84

Alice tilted her head slightly, her tone measured. “We’ve heard that Vittoria was beginning to suspect financial mismanagement… and that she was planning to start an investigation. Is that true?”

Elisabetta stiffened beside him, but André kept his expression steady. “She had concerns,” he admitted. “There were some discrepancies in the books. Nothing intentional. We told her we’d go through everything together with her accountant, Giovanni. The meeting was supposed to happen the day she died.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient timing.”

André’s jaw clenched. “Are you accusing us of something, Ms. Whitmore?”

James stepped in smoothly. “No one’s accusing anyone yet. But it’s our job to follow every thread. And this one—this meeting—sounds important. Did she say what exactly she wanted to look into?”

Elisabetta spoke this time, her voice cold. “She said some numbers didn’t add up. Revenue versus supply costs. Suggested someone might be skimming. But it wasn’t us, detective. We were ready for investigation, we got nothing to hide.”

James exchanged a glance with Officer Rossi, "Okay, thank you."

Just as they turned to leave, André reached into a folder sitting on the edge of the table. “Wait,” he said, pulling out a plain envelope. “There’s one more thing you should see.”

He handed it to James. Inside was a letter—handwritten by Vittoria. The words were laced with unmistakable intimacy, tender and suggestive, hinting at a closeness far beyond friendship. It was, without a doubt, a love letter.

“We found it yesterday,” André explained. “It was in a locked drawer in her office at the restaurant. No name. No address. No clue who it was meant for. But one thing we’re certain of—it wasn’t for Alessandro.”