Chapter 4 - THE NAME THAT CHANGED THE ROOM
The staff stopped working when Luca entered the mansion.
Nobody announced him.
Nobody needed to.
His name moved through the house in whispers.
Moretti.
Mara had heard it before.
She simply had never connected it to the man from the hotel bar.
Luca Moretti owned restaurants, construction firms, shipping companies, security businesses, and a chain of private clubs stretching from Chicago to New York.
Those were the businesses newspapers printed.
There were other stories.
Stories told more quietly.
Stories involving judges who suddenly retired, businessmen who unexpectedly reconsidered contracts, and men who lowered their voices before saying his last name.
Mara did not know which stories were true.
She was not sure she wanted to.
Preston approached them in the foyer.
“Mara.”
She walked past him.
He reached for her arm.
Luca stepped between them.
Preston stopped.
“I just want to talk.”
Mara turned.
“You had three years.”
His face tightened.
“Things weren’t that simple.”
“They were simple when you handed me divorce papers.”
Bianca descended the staircase.
“You are not taking anything from this house.”
Mara looked at her.
“My belongings are not yours.”
“Everything in the staff quarters belongs to the household.”
Luca glanced around the marble foyer.
“Then send me an invoice.”
Bianca’s eyes flashed.
“This has nothing to do with you.”
Luca looked at Mara.
“That remains to be seen.”
Preston understood the implication.
His gaze dropped toward Mara’s stomach.
Mara saw confusion become realization.
Then humiliation.
“It’s his?”
Mara said nothing.
Preston laughed once.
“You slept with him?”
Luca’s expression hardened.
Mara answered before Luca could.
“After our divorce.”
Preston looked wounded.
The hypocrisy almost made her smile.
“You don’t get to look betrayed.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You married Bianca four months after leaving me.”
“Mara.”
“You brought me into this house as staff.”
“That wasn’t my decision.”
“You watched it happen.”
Preston’s silence was an admission.
Mara climbed the service staircase.
Luca followed several feet behind.
When they reached her room, the door was already open.
Mara stopped.
Her dresser drawers had been emptied.
Clothes covered the floor.
The mattress had been pulled away from the wall.
Letters were scattered everywhere.
“No.”
She rushed inside.
“My mother’s box.”
Luca entered behind her.
“What box?”
“A wooden box.”
She dropped to her knees beside the bed.
“It was here.”
She searched beneath clothing.
“Someone took it.”
Luca examined the broken drawer lock.
“Recently.”
Mara found an envelope ripped open.
She recognized Bianca’s perfume.
“She did this.”
Luca walked toward the window.
Mud marked the floor.
A second set of footprints led toward the bathroom.
He opened the door.
Nothing.
Mara picked up one of her mother’s letters.
A sentence had been circled in red ink.
REMEMBER THAT THE SAFEST PLACE IS OFTEN THE ONE PEOPLE THINK BELONGS TO THE DEAD.
Mara stared at it.
“That wasn’t circled before.”
Luca crouched beside her.
“Do you understand what it means?”
“No.”
“Could your mother have hidden something at the cemetery?”
Mara thought of the bracelet.
“I don’t know.”
A floorboard creaked behind them.
Luca turned instantly.
Preston stood in the doorway.
He looked pale.
“You need to leave.”
Mara rose.
“Why?”
“Because Bianca called her father.”
Luca almost smiled.
“That is not persuasive.”
Preston ignored him.
He looked directly at Mara.
“You don’t know what Eleanor found.”
Mara froze.
Luca stepped forward.
“You do.”
Preston glanced toward the hall.
Fear covered his face.
“Mara, listen to me.”
“What did my mother find?”
“I can’t explain here.”
“You will explain somewhere.”
“No.”
He backed away.
“You don’t understand Charles.”
Luca’s voice was quiet.
“I understand him.”
Preston finally looked at Luca.
“You think this is about money.”
“Most things are.”
“This isn’t.”
“Then what is it?”
Preston swallowed.
“Eleanor kept records.”
Mara’s heartbeat became loud in her ears.
“Records of what?”
Preston looked at her.
“Campaign accounts.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
Preston continued.
“Shell companies.”
“Bribes?”
“Worse.”
Mara felt cold.
“My mother told me she handled donations.”
“She handled the accounts Charles didn’t want his official treasurer to see.”
Mara whispered, “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because she was trying to protect you.”
Luca asked, “Protect her from what?”
Preston glanced again toward the hallway.
Then he said the sentence that changed everything.
“Eleanor didn’t get sick until after she told Senator Thorne she was going to the authorities.”
Mara’s face went blank.
“What are you saying?”
Preston shook his head.
“I’m saying your mother’s death might not have started with cancer.”
Before Mara could answer, glass shattered downstairs.
Then someone screamed.
Luca stepped toward the hallway.
His security man appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Sir.”
“What?”
The man held up a small black device.
“We found this under Ms. Whitfield’s bed.”
Luca took it.
Mara stared at the blinking light.
“What is it?”
“A transmitter.”
May you like
Luca looked toward the open bedroom door.
“Someone has been listening to you.”
