Chapter 2 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
Luca stared at the flash drive on his desk.
The silence in the study felt heavy.
Thick.
Like the air right before a thunderstorm.
“She told him, ‘Nobody needs to hear it unless Luca tries to cancel the wedding.’”
My voice sounded fragile in the massive room.
Luca didn’t yell.
He didn’t throw the laptop.
He just slowly closed the screen.
“Cancel the wedding.”
He repeated the words softly.
Daniel stood perfectly still by the door.
“Boss,” Daniel said quietly. “Do you want me to bring her down here?”
“No.”
Luca stood up.
He walked to the window and looked out at the dark driveway.
“If we confront her now, she’ll claim it was a joke. A misunderstanding. She’ll cry, and her father’s syndicate will believe her.”
He turned to look at me.
“She’s building an insurance policy. Which means she’s hiding something big enough to ruin the marriage before it even starts.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“Mr. Moretti, please. I just want to go home to my son.”
Luca’s eyes sharpened.
“You have a child?”
I swallowed hard.
“Yes. Leo. He’s six.”
That was the reason I needed the sixty-seven dollars.
That was why I couldn’t afford to lose this job.
Luca walked over to his desk.
He opened a drawer, pulled out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills, and held it out.
“Take it.”
I backed away.
“I can’t.”
“Take it, Caroline. Because starting tomorrow, you aren’t just serving coffee anymore.”
He placed the money in my hand.
“Vanessa trusts you because she thinks you’re invisible. She thinks you’re weak.”
He leaned in slightly.
“I need you to be my eyes.”
I shook my head.
“She already suspects me. She pushed me.”
“And she thinks she won. Let her keep thinking that.”
Luca reached into his jacket and pulled out a heavy, silver pocket watch.
He checked the time.
11:14 P.M.
“Go upstairs. Pretend to clean the sitting room where she met the technician. Tell her you lost an earring if she asks. See if they left anything behind.”
I wanted to run.
But the cold weight of the money in my hand meant Leo could get his winter coat.
I nodded.
I walked up the grand staircase.
My left ear was still throbbing.
The sitting room was dark.
I turned on the small lamp by the sofa.
The room smelled of Vanessa’s expensive jasmine perfume.
I checked the table.
Nothing.
I checked the floor near the molding where I had hit my head.
My fingers brushed against something stiff under the edge of the Persian rug.
I pulled it out.
It was a photograph.
Faded at the edges.
It showed Vanessa, but she looked much younger.
Her dark hair was unstyled. She wore a cheap cotton dress.
And she was smiling.
A real, genuine smile.
But that wasn’t what made my breath catch.
She was leaning against a rusty pickup truck.
Next to a man I didn’t recognize.
And in her arms, she was holding a newborn baby.
Vanessa didn’t have any children.
At least, that’s what the world thought.
“Looking for something?”
The voice came from the doorway.
I spun around.
Vanessa stood there.
May you like
She wasn’t wearing her red silk gown anymore.
She wore a dark robe, and in her hand, she held my son’s blue plastic lunchbox.
