Chapter 2 - The Woman Outside the Gates
The first threat arrived before breakfast.
I found it folded beneath the windshield wiper of my ten-year-old Honda, parked behind the Moretti mansion where the staff kept their cars.
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF.
Underneath the words was a photograph of my mother leaving her apartment building.
My knees nearly gave out.
Mom lived two hours away in Rockford. She had never visited Luca's estate. She had never met Vanessa Bellini. And she had no idea that I had helped destroy the engagement of one of Chicago's most dangerous men.
I turned the photograph over. A second message waited on the back.
NEXT TIME, WE WON'T TAKE A PICTURE.
"Claire?"
I spun around. Luca stood in the service doorway, still wearing the charcoal sweater he'd had on when I left the living room after midnight. His thick dark hair was disheveled. The tattoo near his collar disappeared beneath the fabric.
He saw my face, then the paper.
"Give it to me."
I didn't move. "My mother has nothing to do with this."
"I know."
"Then why is someone watching her?"
His expression grew colder with every word he read. "Because someone wants to frighten you into silence."
"It worked."
He looked up sharply.
"I'm frightened," I said. "That doesn't mean I'll be silent."
For the first time since the party, something like respect crossed his face.
He called his security chief, Marco, and ordered someone to check on my mother without alarming her. Then he asked me to come inside.
In the breakfast room, Isabella was sitting cross-legged on her chair, reading a graphic novel. She spotted me and signed a cheerful good morning. I signed back, but my hands shook so badly she noticed.
Are you hurt? she asked.
No, sweetheart. Just tired.
She studied me with the unsettling intelligence children sometimes possess. Then she put down her book and signed, You can tell me when you're ready.
I almost cried.
Luca saw our exchange. He didn't ask what she'd said in front of her. Instead he signed, Would you like pancakes?
Isabella laughed. Only if you don't burn them again.
He placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. That laugh seemed to fill the entire room.
And then the doorbell rang.
Mrs. Carter entered moments later, looking pale.
"Mr. Moretti, Miss Bellini is outside. She insists you have something that belongs to her."
Luca's smile vanished. "Tell her to contact my attorney."
"She isn't alone, sir."
Marco appeared at the door holding a tablet. On the security feed, Vanessa stood beyond the iron gates in a white coat. Beside her was a middle-aged man with silver hair and an expensive overcoat.
Luca went perfectly still.
"Who is that?" I asked.
"Her father," he said. "Senator Bellini."
The senator looked directly into the camera and raised a document, making certain it could be seen.
Marco zoomed in.
At the top, printed in bold letters, were two words that turned Luca's face to stone.
CUSTODY PETITION.
I stared at the screen. "She can't be serious."
"She isn't the petitioner," Luca answered.
He pointed to a name beneath the heading.
The person asking a court to remove Isabella from her father was someone I had never heard of.
Someone who claimed to be her mother's closest surviving relative.
And beside that name was a statement alleging that Luca Moretti's home was unsafe for a deaf child.
Isabella tapped my arm.
Why does Daddy look angry?
I turned toward her, wishing the world would give this little girl one ordinary morning.
Before I could answer, Luca crouched beside her.
Someone is trying to make decisions about our family, he signed. But we will tell the truth, and we will face it together.
Isabella looked at the security screen, where Vanessa's face filled the frame.
Her smile disappeared.
Then she signed something I hadn't expected.
I know that man.
Luca and I both stared at her.
Which man, Peanut?
May you like
She pointed to the senator.
He came to my school last week. Vanessa told me not to tell you.
