A face that looked enough like Alessandro’s that I knew who she was before anyone introduced us.
She was forty-eight, six years older than him.
Her hair was dark with silver at the temples.
Where Alessandro tended to fill a room with stillness, Victoria filled it with attention.
She noticed everything.
The new childcare-policy binder on the side table.
Carlo’s changed office title.
Mia’s folded stroller beside the service elevator.
Me.
Especially me.
“Elena Moreno.”
I stiffened.
I used my own surname professionally.
Not David’s.
“Bennett,” I corrected.
“Elena Bennett.”
Victoria nodded.
“Of course.”
Alessandro, standing beside me, looked at her.
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
“Before she worked here.”
“Yes.”
I expected denial.
There was none.
That almost made it worse.
We met in the smaller dining room.
Not Alessandro’s office.
His choice, I suspected.
Neutral territory.
Anthony attended.
So did an outside attorney Victoria had brought.
Mia stayed downstairs with the licensed backup-care staff for exactly one hour because I chose it.
That was important.
Nobody turned her into part of the meeting.
Victoria sat across from me.
“You deserve an explanation.”
“Yes.”
“I also owe you an apology.”
“That depends on the explanation.”
A faint smile.
“Fair.”
Alessandro looked impatient.
“Why did you place her here?”
Victoria turned toward him.
“I
did not place her.”
“The agency file says V.D.”
“I approved her for eligible household placement.”
“That sounds like placement.”
“It is not the same thing.”
