Antonia knelt beside her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. Isabella smelled the familiar lavender beneath the expensive perfume, and for a moment, she was five years old again, seeking comfort in her mother's arms.
"I'm so sorry," Antonia whispered into her hair, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you from this. From him."
"The ledger," Isabella pulled back, wiping her eyes. "Do you really know where it is?"
Antonia's eyes were dark with secrets. "Your father was many things, but he wasn't stupid." She touched Isabella's cheek gently. "He knew they were coming for him. He hid it somewhere safe."
"Where?" Isabella gripped her mother's hands.
Before Antonia could answer, footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Heavy, purposeful steps that made both women freeze.
"Isabella?" Matteo's voice called through the door, impatient. "Are you in there?"
