Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF ONE DANCE|
Giovanni arrived at Camilla's apartment twenty minutes later.
He didn't come alone.
Three men entered first, checked the rooms, and secured the windows. Giovanni followed, his expression so controlled that it frightened me more than anger would have.
He read the note.
Then he looked at the photograph.
"Where was this found?"
"Under the door," Elena answered.
Giovanni turned to his security chief.
"Lock down the building. Nobody comes in or out without verification. Find the camera footage from the hallway."
I stepped between him and the door.
"Stop giving orders in my home."
He looked at me.
"Someone threatened your daughter."
"And I am her mother. I decide what happens here."
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Giovanni nodded.
"You're right. Tell me what you want."
The question surprised me.
"I want Lily somewhere safe. I want to know who is doing this. And I want you to stop treating me like an object you can move around a chessboard."
His eyes held mine.
"Agreed."
He asked Elena to explain the available security options. We decided Lily and I would stay in a secure guest residence owned by Giovanni's family until the threat was understood. Camilla would come with us, and I could leave whenever I wanted.
I hated needing the arrangement.
But I hated the thought of Lily being taken even more.
Before we left, Giovanni asked to speak with me privately.
"Rossi believes I have something that belongs to him," he said. "A ledger containing names, payments, and agreements made by my father."
"Why would he think I can help him?"
"Because you were seen with me tonight. He may believe I trust you."
"Do you?"
He considered the question.
"I don't know you well enough to trust you completely. But I believe you wouldn't hurt a child."
"That's a very low standard."
"It's the most important one."
I folded my arms.
"Why did you ask me to pretend to be your wife?"
His expression shifted.
"Because Rossi was watching the ballroom. He needed to see that I had someone important beside me."
"So I was bait."
"No."
"Don't lie to me."
He looked away for a moment.
"I needed him to believe you were under my protection. I didn't know he would target Lily."
The answer hurt because it confirmed what I had feared.
"You used me."
"I made a decision without telling you the full reason. I won't pretend otherwise."
"Then why should I believe anything you say now?"
"You shouldn't. Not yet."
He took a breath.
"But I will prove it."
We drove to the guest residence in separate vehicles. The building was an elegant brownstone in a quiet neighborhood, with a private entrance and a small garden enclosed by high brick walls.
Lily woke when we arrived.
She looked at Giovanni, then at me.
"Mommy, who's that?"
I knelt beside her.
"He's a friend who's helping us stay safe."
Lily studied his face.
"Are you a policeman?"
Giovanni crouched to her level.
"No, sweetheart."
"Are you a superhero?"
He glanced at me.
"Not even close."
Lily considered that.
"Then why do you have so many men?"
For the first time that night, Giovanni laughed.
"Because I make a lot of mistakes."
She seemed satisfied with the answer.
After Lily went upstairs with Camilla, I found Giovanni standing by the window.
"She likes you," he said.
"She's five. She likes people who answer questions."
"I'll try to keep answering them."
I moved closer.
"Tell me about Isabella."
His face went still.
"My wife."
"The messages said I should ask what happened to her."
He looked toward the dark garden.
"She died in a car accident four years ago."
"Was it really an accident?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Then he said, "The police closed the case. I never believed the investigation was complete."
A cold feeling settled in my stomach.
"Does Rossi have something to do with it?"
Giovanni looked at me.
"I think he knows who was driving the second car."
Before I could ask anything else, his phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
Then his expression changed completely.
"Find him," he ordered. "And don't let him reach the child."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" I asked.
Giovanni looked at me.
"Rossi just sent a message."
He showed me the screen.
It contained a photograph of Isabella standing beside a little girl.
The girl looked about five years old.
May you like
And beneath the photograph were six words:
Your daughter is alive, Giovanni.
