Chapter 2 - The Confession
The brass key dug into Luca’s palm.
He didn’t blink. He didn’t yell. The terrifying thing about Luca Moretti was how still he became when his world shattered. He just stared at Daniel, his oldest friend, the man who was supposed to stand beside him at the altar in two months.
Vanessa’s face lost all its color.
"Daniel, stop," she hissed, stepping toward him. "You’re drunk. You’re ruining the dinner."
"I haven’t had a drop," Daniel said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He reached into his tailored suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of heavy parchment. "Show him the annulment papers, Vanessa. The ones you promised you filed three years ago."
Luca took the paper. He didn't even unfold it. He just looked at the seal on the back.
"Is this true?" Luca asked her.
Vanessa’s eyes darted to me, then to Sophie, who was still clutching her father’s arm. "Luca, please. I only married him because I was young and stupid. We’ve been separated for years! He’s trying to sabotage us because he’s jealous of you."
"I saw you kissing him," Sophie whispered.
Vanessa’s mask slipped. "You little brat, you saw nothing! You’re just trying to get rid of me because you want a mother and I refuse to baby you!"
Luca moved so fast I didn't see him step forward. He put himself completely between Vanessa and his daughter.
"Get out of my house," Luca said softly.
"Luca, the guests—"
"I don't care about the guests." He tossed the brass key onto the dresser. "Emily, pack Sophie a bag. Take her to the brownstone downtown. Use my car."
I nodded, my heart hammering in my throat. I moved to the closet, pulling down a small duffel bag.
Daniel took a step toward Luca. "I didn't want to do this, man. But she was going to take everything from you. The business, the offshore accounts. She was using me to get to the vault codes."
"And you waited until the engagement dinner to tell me?" Luca asked, his voice dead.
"I needed proof. I needed her to get reckless." Daniel raised his hands in surrender.
As he did, his left sleeve pulled back.
The overhead light caught the face of his watch. It was a vintage gold Patek Philippe, with a very specific, jagged scratch across the glass crystal.
I froze, the duffel bag slipping from my fingers.
That was my father’s watch. The one he was wearing the night he died in a hit-and-run five years ago.
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Before I could speak, Vanessa lunged for her purse on the bed. She didn't pull out a tissue. She pulled out a heavy, silver lighter with the Moretti family crest—the one that had been missing from Luca's study for a week.
"Daniel didn't tell you everything," Vanessa smiled, a vicious, cornered look in her eyes. "Tell him, Danny. Tell him what you used this lighter for."
