Chapter 3 - The Secret Beneath the Lace|
Tomasso waited until the last guest had left before he asked his bride to explain the names on the paper.
The journey from the Moretti estate to the Barbieri mansion took forty minutes. Neither spoke during the drive. Two armored SUVs followed their limousine, and the guards stationed in the front vehicle had been ordered not to approach the rear compartment unless Tomasso called them.
Caterina sat beside him, her veil draped over her shoulders.
"You knew I would read that list," he said.
"Of course."
"You knew I would recognize my cousin's name."
"That was the point."
Tomasso turned toward her.
"Then stop playing games. Tell me what you know about my father."
She stared out the window at the Chicago skyline.
"Your father, Vittorio Barbieri, was killed eleven years ago in a warehouse fire near the river. The official story was that a Moretti crew sabotaged the building. Your family retaliated. My father was killed three weeks later. The war began in earnest."
"I know the history."
"No. You know the version your uncle gave you."
Tomasso's expression hardened.
"My uncle has been dead for six years."
"Your father's brother, Enzo, was the one who raised you after Vittorio died. And Lorenzo Moretti was the man who told you my father ordered the fire."
Tomasso said nothing.
Caterina reached into the small satin bag beside her and withdrew a photograph. It showed two men standing outside a warehouse, their arms around each other's shoulders. One was Vittorio Barbieri. The other was Caterina's father, Matteo Moretti.
Tomasso had never seen the photograph.
His father had never mentioned being friends with a Moretti.
"Where did you get this?"
"My mother kept it hidden inside the lining of her jewelry box. After she died, I found it with a letter."
"What letter?"
"I don't have it anymore."
He caught the careful pause.
"You're lying."
"I'm protecting something."
"From me?"
"From everyone."
The limousine entered the iron gates of the Barbieri estate. Security lights swept over the vehicle as the guards checked its identity. Beyond the gates stood a sprawling stone mansion overlooking the lake, beautiful in the way fortresses were beautiful: designed to impress visitors and discourage anyone who considered entering without permission.
Tomasso led Caterina upstairs.
At the bedroom door, he stopped.
"The guest room is yours. No one will enter without your permission. Your belongings will be delivered tonight."
She looked at him for a long moment.
"You really intend to leave me alone?"
"I gave you my word."
"Men in our world give their word when it costs them nothing."
"Then you'll have to decide whether mine is worth anything."
He opened the adjoining door and showed her a spacious room with a fireplace, a balcony, and windows overlooking the lake.
Caterina walked inside.
She inspected the locks, the windows, and the second door connecting the rooms. Then she removed her veil.
Tomasso had expected beauty.
He had not expected the sight to unsettle him so completely.
Her face was flawless, but it was her eyes that held him. They were not frightened. They were alert, assessing him with the cold patience of someone studying an unfamiliar weapon.
"Your enemies have spent years telling the city I am a monster," she said.
"Why allow it?"
"Because they stopped asking what I knew."
She reached beneath the neckline of her gown and removed a thin silver chain. Hanging from it was a small key.
"My father gave me this the night before he died."
Tomasso's hand moved instinctively toward his gun.
"What's it open?"
"I don't know."
"Then why show it to me?"
"Because the key is useless without the other half."
She stepped closer.
"And because I believe your father had it."
Tomasso's jaw tightened.
"My father's belongings were inventoried years ago."
"Then somebody lied on the inventory."
He stared at the key.
Outside, a wave struck the rocks beneath the mansion.
For the first time since the wedding, Tomasso understood the true nature of the bargain. Lorenzo Moretti had not surrendered his niece because she was worthless.
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He had surrendered her because he was afraid of what she might become.
And someone had just placed that fear inside Tomasso's house.
