Chapter 9 - The Bride Who Finally Admitted What She Had Done|
Vanessa returned to the mansion shortly after midnight.
Her wedding dress was gone.
She wore a plain beige coat and carried a small suitcase.
I saw her standing alone in the entrance hall.
For once, she looked nothing like the glamorous woman who had humiliated me at the wedding dinner.
Her makeup was smudged.
Her hair was tangled.
And there were dark circles beneath her eyes.
"Claire."
I stopped.
"What do you want, Mrs. Moretti?"
She flinched at the title.
"Don't call me that."
I stared at her.
"It's your name."
She looked toward the staircase.
"Not for much longer, I imagine."
I started walking away.
Then she said something that stopped me.
"I'm sorry about Margaret."
I turned.
"You're sorry?"
Vanessa lowered her head.
"Yes."
"You told her to eat outside with the staff."
"I know."
"You tried to make your employees lie about her."
"I know."
"You told your husband his mother's best friend was dead."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Please stop."
I shook my head.
"Why?"
She didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Margaret is eighty years old."
My voice trembled.
"She walked into this house carrying a promise she'd kept for forty-five years."
Vanessa looked at the floor.
"She wasn't trying to hurt you."
"I know."
"Then why were you so cruel?"
Vanessa covered her mouth.
For several seconds, she struggled to breathe evenly.
Then she whispered, "Because I was terrified she'd tell Luca everything."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Everything about his mother?"
Vanessa nodded.
I looked toward the security camera above the hallway.
"Ruth needs to hear this."
Vanessa grabbed my wrist.
"Please, Claire."
I pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
She released me immediately.
"I'm sorry."
Her voice was barely audible.
"Please just listen."
I hesitated.
Then I led her into the small morning room, where the door remained open and the security staff could see us.
Vanessa sat on the edge of a chair.
For a long moment, she stared at her hands.
"I was nineteen when Maria died."
She swallowed.
"My father raised me to believe that being a Bellini meant never questioning him."
She described growing up in a house where money mattered more than affection.
Every achievement was rewarded with expensive gifts.
Every mistake was met with humiliation.
Her father controlled her education, friendships, and future.
"Maria was one of the only adults who ever treated me kindly."
I stared at her.
"Then why did you betray her?"
Vanessa began crying.
"Because my father told me she was going to destroy our family."
She wiped her cheeks.
"He said she would send him to prison and leave us with nothing."
"Did you believe him?"
"I wanted to."
Vanessa's voice cracked.
"It was easier than admitting he was stealing from children."
She told me that on the afternoon Maria died, Victor instructed her to collect a replacement medication container from the pharmacy.
He claimed Maria's doctor had approved the arrangement.
Later that evening, he ordered Vanessa to bring the container to Maria's bedroom.
"He wanted her to sign papers."
"What papers?"
"A statement clearing him of financial misconduct."
I felt cold.
"Did Maria sign?"
Vanessa shook her head.
"She told me she would rather lose everything."
Her breathing became uneven.
"Then she started having trouble breathing."
I stared at her.
"And you took away her medicine."
Vanessa covered her face.
"My father told me she was pretending."
"She was begging for help."
"I know."
"Margaret saw you."
"I know!"
Vanessa's cry echoed through the room.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally, she lowered her hands.
"I was frightened."
I looked at her.
"Maria was frightened, too."
The words seemed to strike her harder than anything else I had said.
Vanessa began crying uncontrollably.
"I should have helped her."
"Yes."
"I should have called an ambulance."
"Yes."
"I should have told Luca fifteen years ago."
I swallowed.
"Yes."
Vanessa stared at me through her tears.
"Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"
I shook my head.
"That's not something you get to demand."
She closed her eyes.
I waited until her breathing steadied.
Then I asked the question that had been haunting me.
"Does your father have another recording?"
Vanessa became very still.
I knew immediately that I had guessed correctly.
"Where is it?"
She looked toward the open doorway.
"My father keeps an archive."
"What kind of archive?"
"Documents."
She swallowed.
"Contracts, letters, photographs, recordings."
"Why?"
"Because he likes having something he can use against people."
I moved closer.
"Did he take something from Maria's bedroom?"
Vanessa nodded.
"A small digital recorder."
My heart began pounding.
"Was it running that night?"
"I don't know."
She wiped her face.
"But my father kept it."
"Where?"
"In a locked records room at his South Loop office."
I stared at her.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Vanessa lowered her head.
"Because I heard my mother-in-law begging for help."
Her voice broke.
"And I've spent fifteen years pretending I didn't."
I knew what I had to do.
"Come with me."
"Where?"
"To Ruth."
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she nodded.
But as we stood, her phone began vibrating.
She glanced at the screen.
Her expression changed.
"It's my father."
I reached for the door.
"Don't answer."
Vanessa looked at me.
Then she turned the phone off.
It was a small gesture.
But I could see how much courage it required.
We entered the library together.
Ruth was reviewing financial documents with Luca.
He looked up when he saw Vanessa beside me.
"What is this?"
Vanessa stopped in the doorway.
Her hands trembled.
"Something I should have done fifteen years ago."
Luca slowly rose.
May you like
She looked directly into his eyes.
"I need to tell you the truth about your mother's death."
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