Chapter 5 - THE LIES IN THE CEDAR CHEST
The delivery driver’s words hung in the cold night air like a death sentence.
Mrs. Vivian Bellini.
Everyone slowly turned to look at Vanessa’s mother.
Vivian’s perfect posture completely collapsed. She stumbled backward, her designer heels sinking into the grass outside the guest house. Her face was the color of chalk.
Luca didn’t shout. He carefully placed Nora’s wedding veil back into the chest, letting the $4,500 price tag rest on top.
Then, he walked slowly toward the door.
The delivery drivers took one look at Luca’s face, dropped their clipboard on the porch, and sprinted back to their truck. The tires squealed as they sped backward down the long driveway, desperate to escape.
Luca stopped in the doorway, staring down at Vivian.
“You’re auctioning off my dead wife’s clothes,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “You’re selling her memories to strangers.”
Vivian held up her hands, shaking violently. “Luca, please, you have to understand! The wedding costs were astronomical! My husband’s investments have been struggling, and we needed cash to maintain appearances for the merger! You have so much money, you didn’t even notice these old things were gone!”
“You used my daughter,” Luca whispered.
He turned his gaze to Vanessa, who was cowering against the wall of the guest house.
“You broke my daughter’s heart, you tortured an old woman, and you lied to my face, just so your mother could sell my wife’s wedding veil to pay for your dresses.”
“I didn’t want to!” Vanessa shrieked, sliding down the wall to the floor. “She made me do it! My mother said if we didn’t show up to the wedding looking like royalty, your family would never respect us! I just wanted you to look at me the way you looked at her!”
“I never would have looked at you like her,” Luca said coldly. “Because Nora had a soul.”
Vanessa buried her face in her knees, sobbing hysterically.
Eleanor walked up to the cedar chest. Her hands trembled as she reached inside, pulling away the price-tagged dresses and the expensive purses.
“My baby’s things,” Eleanor cried softly. “All treated like garage sale garbage.”
Emma stood beside her grandmother, looking into the chest.
Suddenly, Emma reached down and pulled something out from the very bottom.
It was a small, royal blue velvet box. It looked like a jewelry box, but larger. It was beautiful, with gold filigree on the corners.
“Grandma,” Emma said, her voice shaking. “What is this?”
Eleanor looked down and gasped.
“Oh, Emma,” Eleanor whispered, her eyes widening. “That’s your mother’s music box. Her father gave it to her when she was a little girl. It plays ‘Clair de Lune.’ She used to wind it up every night before bed.”
Emma’s eyes lit up. For a brief second, the trauma of the night faded, replaced by the innocent hope of a child finding a piece of her mother.
“Can I play it?” Emma asked, looking up at Luca.
Luca’s expression softened instantly. He nodded. “Of course, baby. Turn the key.”
Emma smiled. She turned the little gold crank on the side of the box.
Click. Click. Click.
She opened the lid.
We all waited for the beautiful, tinkling melody to fill the dusty room.
But nothing happened.
There was no music.
Emma frowned. She looked inside the box.
The little glass ballerina that was supposed to spin in the center was snapped in half. The tiny brass gears inside the music box had been smashed. Scratches tore through the velvet lining, as if someone had taken a screwdriver and violently destroyed the inside.
Emma’s smile vanished. She looked up, tears instantly welling in her eyes.
“Daddy? It’s broken.”
Luca stepped forward, looking down into the destroyed music box. His breath hitched. It wasn’t just broken. It had been intentionally vandalized.
He looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa shrank back against the wall, her eyes wide with panic. “It—it was an accident! I dropped it when I was moving the chest!”
“You don’t drop a box and shatter the gears inside, Vanessa,” Luca snarled. “You smashed it.”
“It wouldn’t stop playing!” Vanessa suddenly screamed, clapping her hands over her ears as if she could still hear it. “She wouldn’t stop talking about it! ‘Mommy’s music, Mommy’s music!’ I was going insane! I just wanted her to stop crying for her!”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Luca didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten her.
He just looked at her with an absolute, terrifying finality.
“Claire,” Luca said without turning around.
“Yes, sir?” I stepped forward.
“Call my security team. Tell them to escort the Bellini family off my property. They have ten minutes to pack their cars. If they take one single item that belongs to this house, break their fingers.”
Vanessa let out a wail of despair, but Vivian grabbed her, dragging her daughter toward the door before Luca could do worse.
As they fled into the night, Luca knelt down next to Emma. He gently took the broken music box from her hands.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Luca choked out, a single tear falling down his cheek. “I’m so sorry I let them do this to you. I wasn’t paying attention. I was so sad, I forgot to protect you.”
Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
Eleanor placed a comforting hand on his back. “You’re awake now, Luca. That’s what matters.”
Luca gently set the broken music box down on the edge of the cedar chest.
As he set it down, something shifted inside the box.
The smashed velvet lining in the bottom of the music box slipped sideways.
I was standing right next to the chest. I looked down.
“Mr. Moretti?” I whispered, pointing to the box. “Look.”
The bottom of the music box wasn’t solid wood. It was a false bottom. And beneath the torn velvet, hidden in a secret compartment, was a thick stack of pale blue envelopes.
They were tied together with a faded white ribbon.
Luca froze. He slowly reached into the broken box and pulled the stack of envelopes out.
The handwriting on the top envelope was elegant, looping, and incredibly familiar.
May you like
I heard Eleanor suck in a sharp breath.
“Oh, dear God,” Eleanor whispered. “That’s Nora’s handwriting.”
