Chapter 2 - The Name on the Access Log
At the bus stop, Alessia wondered whether that would remain true. Men like Enzo did not usually tolerate defiance without consequences.
Still, if he had wanted to hurt her, he could have done so already.
The night bus arrived.
As Milan passed beyond the window, her phone buzzed. Her neighbor, Rosa, was checking on her after hearing about an ambulance near their building earlier.
Alessia told her she was fine.
She said nothing about Enzo.
When she reached the small apartment she shared with her grandmother, Nona was asleep.
A plate of food had been left for Alessia beneath a cloth.
She placed it in their nearly empty refrigerator so they could share it the following day.
Then she checked on Nona, changed out of her uniform, and sat on her bed.
Only then did she allow herself to tremble.
Across Milan, Enzo stood in his penthouse office before floor-to-ceiling windows, unable to stop thinking about the cleaning woman who had told him no.
"Alessia."
He had learned her name from the work badge his guards checked.
He poured whiskey but did not drink it.
The elevator malfunction bothered him. The backup systems should not have failed in a building that modern.
He contacted his security chief.
The maintenance team believed the cause was an electrical glitch, but Enzo ordered a full investigation.
He also ordered background checks on everyone who had been working that night.
Especially Alessia.
Then he accessed the building's security footage.
He watched the lobby recording of the elevator doors opening. He saw Luca grab Alessia. He watched her stand surrounded by armed men, frightened but refusing to lower her head.
He watched himself order Luca to release her.
Then he froze the image as Alessia walked away.
She had been terrified inside the elevator.
He knew that now.
What interested him was that she had refused to let the fear control her.
Shortly before 2:00 a.m., Marco, Enzo's consigliere, appeared and reminded him about the following morning's meeting.
Enzo dismissed him and remained alone.
If someone had sabotaged the elevator, someone would pay.
But another question remained.
Why could he not stop thinking about Alessia?
The following morning, Alessia received a call from Bruno, her supervisor at Milano Cleaners.
Management at Vieri Tower had reported the elevator incident. Enzo's people suspected deliberate sabotage, and Alessia was the unfamiliar person involved.
She denied knowing anything about it.
Bruno believed her, but the client had requested that she not return to the building until further notice, possibly permanently.
The cleaning contract was too valuable to risk.
Alessia understood immediately.
She had lost her job.
Bruno called it a suspension and promised to try to place her somewhere else, but nothing was available that week. If Enzo's people remained suspicious of her, other corporate clients might also refuse her.
Alessia thanked him and hung up.
When Nona asked what had happened, Alessia lied gently. She said maintenance at the building had given her a few days off.
Nona told her perhaps the rest would be good for her.
Alessia smiled and said perhaps it would.
Inside, she was already calculating how to make rent.
Before noon, strange calls began arriving.
No one spoke when she answered.
A sleek black sedan appeared repeatedly near her street.
By late afternoon, Alessia felt certain she was being watched.
She left the apartment while Nona slept and walked toward a nearby church, hoping to clear her head.
On a quiet side street, she heard a car moving slowly behind her.
The same black sedan.
She quickened her pace.
The car accelerated.
Alessia crossed toward a busier avenue, but the sedan moved ahead and cut her off.
The passenger window lowered.
Enzo Vieri sat inside.
"Get in the car, Alessia."
The rear door was already open.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere safe."
Alessia hesitated, then entered.
Luca sat in the front passenger seat.
Alessia sat on the edge of the leather seat instead of leaning back. The door shut with an expensive, almost soundless click. She tried the handle before the car moved. It opened. Luca looked at her in the mirror but said nothing.
"I did not agree to be taken anywhere," she told Enzo. "Tell your driver to stop by the pharmacy on Via Torino. It's open all night. There are cameras and people. We can talk there."
Enzo studied her for an uncomfortable second, then told the driver to take Via Torino. "You think I'm going to hurt you."
"Yesterday you touched me when I told you not to. Today your people got me fired, checked my life, and followed me in a car. Tell me what conclusion you would draw."
Luca shifted in his seat. Enzo's gaze dropped to his hands. "I ordered a background check," he said. "I didn't order you dismissed. That distinction won't put your wages back, and I know it."
"Then why am I here?"
He opened a slim folder. Alessia recoiled when he pushed it toward her; he stopped and left it on the middle seat. Inside was a photograph of her cleaning badge and a computer-generated list of door entries. Her name appeared beside a service-corridor door at 1:14 a.m., seven minutes after the elevator had stopped.
"This entry came from our own security system," Enzo said. "The door leads to a maintenance room. Someone interfered with the building's emergency communication that night. My security director says you are responsible."
"I was in the elevator with you."
"Yes."
"Then your director has a problem with clocks or the truth."
"Both are possibilities."
She looked again. Her identification number was correct, including the digit she'd once complained Bruno had typed incorrectly on her employment form. The fact that someone had used her name frightened her more than the silent telephone calls. It meant the accusation had been prepared, not merely invented after Enzo had decided she annoyed him.
"Who supplied you with this?" she asked.
"Marco Bellini. He coordinates security and the building's outside contracts."
"And you trusted him enough to let me lose my job."
Enzo didn't argue. The pharmacy's green sign appeared ahead. The driver pulled over under its bright windows. Alessia put her hand on the door handle and looked once more at the document.
"That wasn't my badge," she said. "Mine was clipped inside my apron. You watched me hold it when your guards checked my name."
Luca finally spoke. "I remember."
"Then remember this, too," Alessia said. "If somebody walked through that door wearing my name, they knew exactly where I'd be when they did it."
She stepped onto the pavement. Enzo did not follow until she turned and asked him to bring the folder. A police car idled at the opposite curb. For the first time since the elevator stopped, she felt she could make a choice without asking his permission.
May you like
Enzo joined her beneath the pharmacy sign and turned the last page of the folder toward the light. Alessia saw a photograph of the service corridor: a cleaner in a dark uniform entering the maintenance room, face hidden by the angle of the camera. The person carried a yellow bucket just like hers.
But Alessia had never owned a yellow bucket.
