Chapter 9 - The Bride Who Was Chosen Before the Wedding|
I looked at Francesca.
Then at my husband.
Seven years ago, I had met Luca Moretti at a charity auction for a children's hospital.
I had been twenty-four.
He had been twenty-eight.
I'd been helping my mother arrange flowers when he approached the registration desk and asked whether I knew where the silent auction was being held.
I remembered his smile.
The way he thanked me.
The way he returned twenty minutes later with two coffees because he'd noticed I hadn't taken a break.
I'd thought it was fate.
Now, watching Francesca's trembling hands, I wasn't sure what to believe.
"Nonna," Luca said, "what did Vanessa mean?"
Francesca lowered her eyes.
"I knew who Emma's grandmother was before you met."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Rosa DeLuca."
My throat tightened.
"You knew?"
She nodded.
"I recognized Helen the first time she visited the mansion."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
Francesca's eyes filled.
"Because I was ashamed."
Luca approached her.
"Of what?"
The old woman sat down carefully.
"When Vittorio died, he left me instructions about Rosa. He wanted me to discover what happened to her."
She looked toward me.
"I spent years searching. Eventually, I found Helen."
"My mother?"
"Yes."
Francesca took a shaky breath.
"By then, she'd married your father and started a family. I didn't want to disturb her life."
I thought of my mother.
Her ordinary home.
Her flower shop.
Her quiet happiness.
"Then why did you arrange for me to meet Luca?"
Francesca began crying.
"Because of the Lakefront Trust."
Luca's expression hardened.
"What about it?"
"Part of the land originally belonged to Rosa's family. Her father had transferred several properties into a partnership controlled by Vittorio."
I looked toward Luca.
He frowned.
"Those properties were included in the trust."
Francesca nodded.
"Vittorio believed he had purchased them legally. But after his death, I found documents showing that Rosa's family retained a financial interest."
A long silence followed.
"An interest that would have passed to her descendants," Luca said.
"Yes."
I sat down.
"So my mother inherited part of the trust?"
"Potentially. The records were incomplete, and the ownership needed to be established in court."
Francesca looked devastated.
"I should have told her."
"Why didn't you?" I whispered.
"Because I was frightened the Bellinis would find her."
I glanced toward the black rosary on the coffee table.
"And you thought marrying me to Luca would protect me?"
Francesca nodded slowly.
"I arranged for you to volunteer at the auction. I knew Leonardo would be there."
Luca stared at her.
"Did you tell her to speak to me?"
"No."
"Did you tell me to speak to her?"
"No."
Francesca looked toward me.
"I put you in the same room. That's all."
I didn't know whether to feel relieved or betrayed.
Our first meeting had been arranged.
But our first kiss?
Our wedding?
The night Isabella was born?
The seven years I'd spent loving Luca?
Surely those moments were ours.
I looked at him.
"Did you know?"
He shook his head immediately.
"No."
I studied his face.
For once, I believed him.
Francesca wiped her cheeks.
"I watched you fall in love. And I convinced myself that if you married, the truth about the land would no longer matter."
Luca gave a humorless laugh.
"Because Emma would already be part of the family."
"Yes."
I felt something inside me break.
"So instead of giving my mother what might have belonged to her, you let me marry into the family holding it?"
Francesca began crying.
"I never wanted to cheat you."
"But you kept the truth from us."
"Yes."
The honesty hurt.
Because unlike Luca, Francesca didn't try to explain away what she'd done.
She accepted it.
I looked at the woman who had held my hand when I lost my first pregnancy.
The woman whose medicines I'd organized.
The woman I'd cared for through a painful winter.
I loved her.
That made the betrayal harder.
"Nonna," I whispered, "you should have trusted me."
She nodded through tears.
"I know."
Luca moved toward me.
"Emma—"
I stood.
"Don't."
He stopped.
"I need a moment."
I walked to the window.
Outside, dawn was beginning to lighten the Chicago skyline.
Somewhere in that city, Vanessa Bellini was preparing to flee.
Somewhere, my mother was waiting for news.
And in the next room, Isabella slept without knowing how many adults had made decisions about her life without asking her parents together.
My phone vibrated.
A message from an unfamiliar number.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
It showed my mother standing outside her flower shop.
A dark SUV was parked behind her.
Beneath the photograph were six words.
SIGN THE PAPERS OR SHE DISAPPEARS.
My heart stopped.
A second message arrived.
TELL LUCA NOTHING. COME TO THE SHOP ALONE.
I looked toward my husband.
He was speaking quietly with Daniel.
For one terrible moment, fear urged me to obey the threat.
Then I remembered what secrecy had done to our family.
I walked toward Luca.
And handed him the phone.
"Someone is threatening my mother."
He read the message.
His expression became cold.
I swallowed.
"I am not keeping another secret to protect someone else's cruelty."
Luca looked at me.
And for the first time that night, there was something like respect in his eyes.
"Good," he whispered.
Then he called Daniel.
"Get the police to Helen's shop. Now."
But before Daniel could answer, my mother called.
I picked up immediately.
"Mom?"
Her voice was shaking.
"Emma, sweetheart, don't come here."
I froze.
"Why?"
A man's voice spoke in the background.
"Tell your daughter to cooperate."
My mother began crying.
May you like
Then the call ended.
And the last sound I heard was the unmistakable shattering of glass.
