Chapter 2 - THE GLOVE AND THE GLASS
The dining room went entirely still.
Vanessa didn't move her left hand.
She stood frozen in her magnificent red gown, the crystal chandelier casting harsh shadows across her face.
“Luca,” she said, her voice dropping an octave, slipping from outrage into something that sounded dangerously like panic. “This is ridiculous. You’re going to take the word of a maid and a deaf waiter over your future wife?”
Luca didn't look at me. He didn't look at Daniel.
His dark eyes were locked on Vanessa’s wrist.
“Take off the glove, Vanessa.”
“He bumped into me earlier,” she said quickly. “When he poured the wine. He must have slipped it inside my cuff then. It’s a classic pickpocket trick.”
I looked at Daniel.
He was watching her lips. He understood exactly what she was saying.
Daniel raised his hands. His fingers moved in sharp, angry strokes.
I never poured her wine.
I translated aloud. “He says he never poured your wine, ma’am.”
“He’s lying!”
Luca took a step toward her.
He didn't yell. Men like Luca Moretti never had to raise their voices to make the air leave a room.
“Vanessa. The glove.”
She swallowed hard. Her diamond-clad right hand reached over, gripping the edge of the white satin on her left arm. Slowly, she pulled.
The glove slid off.
And a heavy, platinum ring with a massive emerald-cut diamond clattered onto the hardwood floor.
The men at the table murmured. The guard took a step back, suddenly realizing he had almost assaulted an innocent man for a lie.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Daniel’s shoulders finally dropped.
“He planted it,” Vanessa whispered, staring at the ring on the floor.
Luca didn't answer. He bent down and picked up the ring.
He held it up to the light.
He looked at the stone for a long time. Then, he looked at his fiancée.
“You’re right, Vanessa,” Luca said softly. “He didn't steal it.”
Vanessa let out a shaky breath, trying to smile. “I told you, darling. These people—”
“Because this isn't my ring,” Luca interrupted.
Vanessa’s smile vanished.
“What?” she choked out.
Luca walked over to his wineglass. He picked up the heavy crystal goblet and, with one brutal motion, slammed the bottom of the glass directly onto the diamond of the ring.
I flinched.
The glass didn't shatter.
The diamond did.
It broke into dozens of dull, cloudy pieces of cheap cubic zirconia.
“My grandmother’s diamond survived a house fire in 1942,” Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “It doesn't shatter under a wineglass.”
Vanessa backed away, her face pale.
“You lost the real ring,” Luca said. “And you tried to frame this boy for stealing it, so you could claim the insurance and hide the fact that you lost a two-million-dollar family heirloom.”
“I didn't lose it!” Vanessa cried, the lie finally breaking.
“Then where is it?”
Vanessa opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Daniel tapped my shoulder.
His hands moved rapidly. I watched his fingers, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I looked at Luca.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, my voice shaking. “Daniel says she didn't lose it.”
Luca turned to me. “What did he see?”
I swallowed hard. “He says twenty minutes before dinner, he saw her in the hallway. She handed the real ring to a man.”
Vanessa spun toward me. “Shut your mouth!”
“What man?” Luca demanded.
Daniel signed again.
He had a silver cane.
“A man with a silver cane,” I translated.
The blood drained completely from Luca’s face. The men at the table stood up, chairs scraping violently against the floor.
“My uncle,” Luca whispered.
Vanessa lunged for her evening clutch on the table. But Luca was faster. He grabbed the small purse, snapping it open.
He reached inside and pulled out a small, folded piece of thick blue paper.
A train ticket.
Luca opened it, his eyes scanning the ink.
May you like
He looked up at Vanessa, the betrayal burning in his eyes.
“Why do you have a one-way ticket to Montreal for my eight-year-old nephew?”
