Chapter 1 - The Suitcase on the Bed|
Luca Moretti stood in the bedroom doorway, October cold clinging to his black coat. Behind him, the mansion hummed with the quiet movements of armed guards and men who never asked questions unless they already knew the answers.
In front of him, his wife was packing their son's clothes.
Dinosaur pajamas. Two sweaters. A small inhaler in a blue zippered pouch. A gray elephant with one ear worn thin from six years of being loved.
Luca's eyes settled on the suitcase.
"What are you doing, Sophie?"
She folded the last shirt with careful hands.
"Leaving."
His jaw tightened.
"You're not leaving this house at midnight."
Sophie finally looked at him. Her eyes were dry, and that frightened him more than tears would have.
"If you want Bianca, fine."
"Don't start this again."
"Just let me take our son."
For a moment, Luca heard nothing but the distant ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.
Theo was six. He had Luca's dark eyes, Sophie's stubborn chin, and a habit of asking questions adults couldn't answer without exposing themselves. He was asleep in the adjoining bedroom, unaware that his parents' marriage had reached the edge of a cliff.
Luca removed his gloves.
"Bianca is here because of business."
"Then why does she sleep in the guest wing? Why does she attend your private meetings? Why does she know things about your company that your wife doesn't?"
"Because you don't understand the situation."
"Then explain it."
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Three nights earlier, Luca had brought Bianca Rinaldi into their home with one suitcase and an announcement that she would be staying until a business matter was settled. Since then, she had walked through the mansion as though she were preparing to inherit it.
Sophie had watched advisers bow to Bianca. She had heard her husband whisper with the woman behind closed doors. She had seen the seating chart for the Moretti Foundation dinner, where Bianca had been placed beside Luca while Sophie was moved to a table with distant relatives.
And tonight, she had heard Luca tell his father-in-law-to-be—Carlo Rinaldi—that he would handle his wife.
Not speak to her.
Not tell her the truth.
Handle her.
Luca stepped toward the suitcase.
Sophie moved between him and the bed.
That small movement stopped him.
"Sophie, you're not taking Theo tonight."
Her expression changed. It was subtle, but he saw the fear beneath her exhaustion.
She looked toward the bedroom door, then toward the stairs, where two guards stood beyond the landing.
"Tell me something, Luca."
"What?"
"What happens if I try?"
He stared at her.
Before he could answer, a small voice came from the hallway.
"Mom?"
Theo stood in the doorway wearing dinosaur pajamas, his gray elephant tucked beneath one arm.
He looked at the suitcase, then at his father.
"Are we going somewhere?"
Sophie crouched and opened her arms. Theo hurried into them.
Luca watched his son bury his face against his mother's shoulder.
Then Theo looked up.
"Dad, why did Mr. Carlo say I have to live with Bianca?"
The blood drained from Luca's face.
May you like
Sophie went perfectly still.
And from the hallway behind Theo, Bianca Rinaldi smiled as though the child had just confirmed something she had been waiting to hear.
