Chapter 2 - THE ONE-WAY TICKET TO ZURICH
The silence in the dining room was suffocating.
Thirty-six guests sat frozen in their chairs.
Luca Moretti didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t reach for a weapon. He simply stood perfectly still, looking at the woman he was supposed to marry.
“Who is coming for my daughter at six in the morning, Vanessa?”
Vanessa’s flawless smile fractured.
“Luca, darling, she’s confused. It’s just an interview. An admissions counselor from St. Jude’s is coming for a breakfast meeting.”
“At six in the morning?”
“They are incredibly exclusive. We have to accommodate their schedule.”
Sophie tightened her grip on my apron.
“No,” the seven-year-old whispered, her voice trembling. “The lady with the red suitcase said we have to leave for the airport.”
Luca’s dark eyes hardened.
“The airport.”
Vanessa stepped backward, her burgundy gown rustling loudly against the marble floor.
“Sophie is imagining things. You know how she gets when she’s upset about Caroline.”
I looked at Vanessa’s hands.
She was clutching her small, velvet evening bag so tightly her knuckles were white.
And sticking out of the gold clasp was a thick, folded piece of paper. The top edge was bright blue.
I recognized that color. I had booked my parents’ flights to Florida last year using the same airline.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said quietly.
Luca didn’t look at me. His eyes remained locked on Vanessa. “Yes, Emma.”
“St. Jude’s is in upstate New York.”
“It is.”
“The boarding pass in Miss Bellini’s purse is for a European airline.”
Vanessa gasped, shoving the velvet bag behind her back.
“You insolent little—”
“Give me the bag, Vanessa,” Luca ordered.
“Luca, please! You’re humiliating me in front of our guests over a maid’s delusion!”
Luca didn’t ask a second time.
He crossed the distance between them in two long strides. He didn’t use force, but his sheer, terrifying presence made her freeze. He slipped the velvet bag from her trembling fingers.
He opened the clasp.
He pulled out the blue-edged paper.
It was a boarding pass.
Luca read the destination. The color slowly drained from his face.
“Zurich,” Luca whispered.
He looked at the name printed at the top.
It didn’t say Sophie Moretti.
It said Sophie Bellini.
“You changed her legal name,” Luca said, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register.
“It’s a placeholder!” Vanessa cried, tears springing to her eyes. “Luca, listen to me. Your enemies are watching this house. My uncle in Switzerland has a secure estate. I was trying to protect her!”
“By smuggling her out of the country without telling me?”
“You would have said no! You’re too attached to her mother’s memory to see the danger!”
Luca stared at her.
He was a man who navigated the deadliest criminal underworld in America. He knew betrayal. He knew danger.
But this wasn't a business rival. This was the woman sleeping in his bed.
“Who else knows about this flight?” Luca demanded.
Vanessa swallowed hard. “Just my uncle.”
I looked down at Sophie. She was shaking.
“Sophie,” I asked gently, kneeling to her eye level. “Who was the lady with the red suitcase?”
Sophie wiped her nose. “She said her name was Auntie Clara.”
Vanessa went completely rigid.
Luca’s head snapped toward his fiancée.
Clara was Caroline’s sister.
The sister who had blamed Luca for Caroline’s death and vanished two years ago.
“Why is my dead wife’s sister picking up my daughter?” Luca asked.
But Vanessa didn’t answer. She was staring at the front doors of the dining room.
Standing in the archway, holding a small, silver photograph frame, was Luca’s head of security, Daniel.
“Boss,” Daniel said, his voice unusually strained. “You need to see this.”
Daniel walked forward and handed Luca the silver frame.
I recognized it. It was the photograph of Caroline that usually sat on Luca’s bedside table.
“I found this in Miss Bellini’s car, sir,” Daniel said.
Luca looked at the photograph.
Then he turned it over.
The heavy silver backing had been removed.
And taped to the inside of the frame was a handwritten note.
Luca read the note, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.
He looked up at Vanessa.
“Where did you get this?” Luca asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanessa stammered.
Luca turned the photograph around so we could all see it.
The note was written in Caroline’s handwriting.
May you like
Vanessa, if anything happens to me, you must take Sophie to Zurich. Don’t let Luca find the coat.
TITLE: The Secret Sewn Into The Winter Coat
