The silence in the dining room was absolute.
Forty wealthy guests stared at Vanessa Bellini.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Even the classical music playing softly from the corner seemed to fade into nothingness.
Luca Moretti didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. The quiet danger radiating from him was enough to make the temperature in the room plummet.
“You were in the car, Vanessa,” Luca repeated.
Vanessa’s face lost all its color. Her perfect makeup suddenly looked like a mask painted on a ghost.
“Luca, darling, you can’t possibly believe that,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “The police are mistaken. I was here. I was at the estate all night.”
Luca slowly reached into his suit jacket.
He pulled out his phone and placed it flat on the pristine white tablecloth.
“The forensic team recovered a piece of jewelry from the passenger side floorboard,” Luca said, his eyes dead and cold. “A diamond earring. Custom made. The exact match to the one you reported stolen the morning after my brother died.”
Vanessa took a step back.
Her heel caught the edge of the expensive Persian rug.
“It was planted,” she stammered. “Anna must have stolen it! She’s a maid, she has access to my room—”
“Anna didn’t have access to the wreckage of a burning car forty miles outside the city,” Luca cut her off.
I stood there, my hand gripping the back of my chair to keep from collapsing.
My baby was kicking frantically against my ribs, reacting to my racing heartbeat.
Michael had been in the car with her.
My husband’s last moments on earth had been spent with the woman who had made my life a living hell for the past six months.
Luca turned his head slightly toward the long table of terrified guests.
“Dinner is over,” he said quietly.
Nobody argued.
Chairs scraped frantically against the marble floor. Within sixty seconds, forty of Chicago’s elite had grabbed their coats and fled the room, leaving behind half-eaten meals and spilled wine.
The heavy mahogany doors clicked shut.
We were alone.
Luca, Vanessa, and me.
“Why were you in his car?” Luca asked.
Vanessa looked at the heavy oak doors, calculating her escape. But Luca’s security guards were stationed on the other side. There was nowhere to run.
“I was trying to save your family’s reputation,” Vanessa cried, tears finally spilling over her lashes. “Michael called me. He was out of his mind, Luca. He said he was going to run away with this… this pregnant maid. I went with him to talk him out of it!”
I shook my head.
“That’s a lie.”
Vanessa snapped her head toward me, her eyes flashing with pure venom.
“Shut your mouth, you little tramp!”
“Enough!” Luca’s voice cracked like a whip.
He stepped closer to Vanessa. “Michael wouldn’t have let you in his car unless you gave him a reason. What did you say to him?”
I took a shaky breath.
“He was leaving because he found something in your office, Mr. Moretti.”
Luca turned to me, his expression tightening. “What did he find?”
I reached into the deep pocket of my black uniform apron.
For six months, I had carried it with me every single day, terrified to leave it in my small maid’s quarters.
My hands trembled as I pulled out a heavy, men’s leather wallet.
It was charred around the edges. Smelling faintly of smoke and gasoline.
Luca stared at it.
“That’s Michael’s.”
I nodded, tears blurring my vision.
“The police gave it to me quietly, because I showed them our marriage certificate. Inside his coat pocket… there was this.”
I opened the wallet and pulled out a piece of thick, burned paper.
A ferry ticket.
Dated for the night he died.
Departing from Chicago, bound for Canada.
Luca took the ticket from my shaking hands. He read the passenger names.
And his jaw tightened.
“It’s for two passengers,” I whispered. “He was taking me away. We were going to start a new life. He said it was the only way to keep our baby safe from her.”
I pointed a shaking finger at Vanessa.
Vanessa let out a harsh, bitter laugh.
“Oh, Anna. You really are a stupid, naive little girl.”
Luca’s head snapped toward her. “Watch your tone.”
“No, Luca, look at the ticket!” Vanessa shouted, pointing at the burned paper in his hand. “Look at the second passenger’s name!”
Luca looked down.
His eyes widened slightly.
“The second passenger isn’t Anna Mitchell,” Vanessa sneered, a wicked, desperate smile twisting her lips. “He wasn’t taking you to Canada, you idiot.”
She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper.
