Chapter 3 - THE SILVER ROSES OF BETRAYAL
The air in the room turned to ice.
Charles took a panicked step backward, colliding with a serving cart. Crystal glasses clattered sharply.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” Charles stammered, raising his hands. “It’s just antique jewelry. I bought it at an estate sale years ago!”
Luca didn’t blink. “There is a small chip on the third rose. I dropped it on a cobblestone street in Rome when I was ten years old. My sister was wearing it the night she was killed.”
He took a slow, deliberate step toward Charles.
“Answer one question, Charles. And your life depends on it. How did you get it?”
I looked at the bracelet on my daughter’s wrist. My mind spun backward, desperately sifting through the nightmares of my marriage.
“He didn't buy it,” I said aloud, my voice cutting through the tension.
Luca stopped and looked at me.
“He didn't buy it,” I repeated, standing up. “Charles had a safe in his home office. He kept files in there. Financial records. And a small wooden box. He gave me that bracelet on our wedding night and told me it was a family heirloom. I wore it until the day I left him.”
Luca’s jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth would shatter.
Vanessa looked wildly between us. “Charles, what is she talking about? You said you were just a businessman!”
“He’s a scavenger,” Luca said softly. He didn't take his eyes off my ex-husband. “My sister’s killer was never found. But whoever did it took her jewelry. Which means you either know who killed her, Charles, or you work for them.”
Charles was hyperventilating now. “Luca, be reasonable. I’m a legitimate partner! Vanessa brought me here to invest in your new properties!”
“Vanessa,” Luca said without looking at her, “is no longer my fiancée. The engagement is over.”
Vanessa let out a strangled cry. “Luca, no! You can't do this! We signed the adoption papers! Legally, Lily is mine!”
She lunged toward the door, grabbing Lily’s arm.
“Come here, Lily. We are leaving right now.”
“Mommy!” Lily cried out, dropping the child’s drawing to the floor.
The word echoed.
She hadn't looked at Vanessa. She was looking at me.
I didn't think. I reacted.
I grabbed Vanessa’s wrist, my fingers digging into her skin with a strength I didn't know I possessed.
“Let go of my daughter,” I snarled.
Vanessa gasped, stunned by the maid who had been carrying trays just ten minutes ago. She released Lily, and my little girl practically collapsed against my legs, burying her face in my apron.
I dropped to the floor, wrapping my arms around her. Three years of agonizing emptiness vanished the moment I smelled the strawberry shampoo in her hair.
“I've got you,” I sobbed into her curls. “I'm right here.”
Luca stepped past us and picked up the drawing Lily had dropped.
He unfolded it.
His dark eyes scanned the messy crayon lines, and the color slowly drained from his face.
“Charles,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. “Why did your daughter draw a picture of a man with a spider tattoo on his neck?”
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Charles hit the wall, sliding down slightly.
“Because,” Charles wept, “he’s the man waiting outside.”
