THE DEAD WOMAN’S VOICE IN THE DINING ROOM

“Why not?” Luca asked.

His voice was terrifyingly calm.

Vanessa’s hands gripped the edge of the mahogany dining table. Her perfect composure was shattering in front of thirty silent, wealthy guests.

“Luca, this is our engagement dinner,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Whatever is on that tape, it belongs in the past. Your mother wasn’t in her right mind before she died.”

“Get the player, Emma,” Luca said.

He didn’t even look at me. His eyes were locked on Vanessa.

I didn't hesitate. I turned and practically ran down the long corridor to Luca’s study. My heart hammered against my ribs. I grabbed the heavy, vintage silver cassette player from his desk and hurried back.

When I returned, no one had moved.

I set the player on the table next to the untouched champagne glasses.

Luca placed the cassette inside.

He pressed play.

For three agonizing seconds, there was only the hiss of static.

Then, a woman’s voice filled the room.

“Luciano.”

Luca stopped breathing.

It was a soft voice. Tired. But undeniably Elena Moretti.

“If you are hearing this, it means you have chosen a wife. And it means I am gone.”

Luca closed his eyes. The pain on his face was raw.

“I asked Father Gabriel to keep this from you until now, because a man in love is finally ready to hear the truth about family.”

The tape crackled.

“You think the Bellini family has always been our ally. You think Vanessa’s father was a good man.”

Vanessa let out a choked sob. “Turn it off, Luca. Please.”

He ignored her.

“He was not,” Elena’s voice continued. “He was a monster. And he didn't die of a heart attack, Luciano. I killed him.”

The dining room erupted into horrified gasps.

Luca’s eyes snapped open. He stared at the spinning cassette.

“I poisoned him to protect you,” his mother’s voice confessed. “Because he found out what I was hiding in the sewing room. He found the child.”

Luca stepped back as if he had been struck.

“Child?” he whispered.

The tape hissed loudly, then clicked. The audio cut out abruptly.

Luca hit the machine. “Wait. Where is the rest of it?”

Father Gabriel stepped forward, leaning heavily on his cane.

“I told you, Luciano. That is a copy. The original is longer.”

Luca turned slowly to Vanessa.

“My mother killed your father? And you knew?”

Vanessa wiped a tear from her cheek, her chin lifting defiantly.

“I found out three weeks ago,” she confessed, her voice shaking but fierce. “When I went into that sewing room.”

“And you still agreed to marry me?” Luca demanded. “Why?”

“Because of what else I found in there!” Vanessa shouted.

She reached into her expensive satin clutch and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. She threw it onto the table.

It landed next to the cassette player.

I could see what it was.

It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on heavy construction paper. A picture of a little boy holding hands with a woman who had dark hair, just like Elena.

Written in a child’s messy handwriting at the bottom were three words.

For my brother.

Luca stared at the drawing. The blood drained from his face.

“I don't have a brother,” Luca said.

“You did,” Vanessa whispered. “And he’s the reason your mother killed my father.”

Luca looked at the brass key in his hand. The one with the faded red ribbon.

“Emma,” Luca commanded, not taking his eyes off the key. “Clear the room. Everyone goes home.”

He walked past Vanessa, past Father Gabriel, and headed straight for the east wing.