Chapter 11 - The Woman in Red Finally Begged|
By noon, Vanessa Bellini's carefully constructed world had begun falling apart.
The police found Peter Salvi in a rented apartment near O'Hare International Airport.
He had two passports, a large amount of cash, and photographs of Isabella's school.
He also had a copy of the threatening note placed on her pillow.
The same words.
The same typeface.
The same black rosary pictured beside the paper.
When investigators questioned him, he requested an attorney.
Then, after learning that Vanessa had booked a flight without him, he agreed to provide information through his lawyer.
By late afternoon, authorities had enough evidence to detain Vanessa and her mother at the private airport terminal.
Their luggage had already been loaded.
Isabella's passport was inside Vanessa's handbag.
The fake travel authorization was tucked into a leather document folder.
And the original rosary's missing bead was found in a jewelry case.
I learned all of this while sitting beside my mother's hospital bed.
I should have felt victorious.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
Seven years of marriage had brought me to a hospital room where I was waiting for a detective to tell me whether the woman sleeping with my husband had been arrested for trying to take our daughter.
There was nothing satisfying about that.
Luca entered the room shortly after four.
He carried two coffees.
He offered me one.
I accepted it.
"Vanessa is in custody," he said.
I stared at the cup.
"Good."
"Victoria, too."
I nodded.
He sat beside me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "The emergency custody petition has been withdrawn by the filing attorney, and your lawyer has copies of everything."
I looked up.
"My lawyer?"
"I contacted the attorney you selected. She'll represent only you."
I studied him.
"You actually listened."
He gave a sad smile.
"I should have started years ago."
I looked away.
He continued.
"I also signed a written statement explaining exactly what Vanessa told me and how I came to sign that acknowledgment."
My chest tightened.
"That could make you look careless."
"I was careless."
I glanced at him.
Luca looked exhausted.
The man who had once commanded rooms with a single glance now seemed uncertain of where to put his hands.
"I won't ask you to protect me from the consequences," he said.
For a moment, I remembered the twenty-three relatives at our dinner table.
The way he'd asked me to clear his plate.
The way he'd allowed Vanessa to smile at my humiliation.
I swallowed.
"Why her?"
He closed his eyes.
"I've been asking myself that."
"That's not an answer."
"I know."
He looked toward the window.
"Vanessa made me feel as though I could be someone different. Someone who didn't have to think about work, family expectations, or the responsibilities waiting at home."
I stared at him.
"And I made you feel those things?"
"No."
He turned toward me.
"You made my life possible. You held everything together."
Tears burned behind my eyes.
"Then why wasn't that enough?"
His face crumpled slightly.
"Because I was selfish."
The words hung between us.
He didn't blame my appearance.
He didn't blame the years we'd spent raising Isabella.
He didn't blame loneliness or stress.
For once, he told the truth without dressing it up.
"I liked being admired," he continued. "I liked having someone flatter me. And I told myself it wasn't destroying our marriage because you were always there."
I looked down.
"Until you decided I wouldn't be."
Luca swallowed.
"Yes."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, "I am sorry, Emma."
I closed my eyes.
The apology was real.
I believed that.
But it didn't make my pain disappear.
"I don't know what to do with that yet."
He nodded.
"I understand."
His phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
"Daniel."
I waited.
Luca answered.
For several seconds, he listened.
Then his expression changed.
"What did she say?"
He stood.
"Tell the detective we're coming."
He ended the call.
I looked up.
"What happened?"
"Vanessa asked to speak with us."
I frowned.
"Why?"
Luca hesitated.
"She says she has information about the original trust."
I shook my head.
"Of course she does."
"Emma—"
"She doesn't get to bargain with Isabella."
"She won't."
I studied him.
"Then why go?"
Luca looked toward the hospital door.
"Because she says Francesca has been lying about one final thing."
My stomach tightened.
"What thing?"
He swallowed.
"She claims my grandmother knew Rosa was alive when Vittorio died."
I stared at him.
"And?"
Luca's face hardened.
"She says Francesca didn't merely arrange for us to meet."
A long pause.
"She says our marriage was part of an agreement signed before either of us was born."
I looked down at my wedding ring.
May you like
A symbol I'd once believed belonged entirely to love.
And suddenly I wondered how many strangers had made decisions about my future before I'd even learned to walk.
