Chapter 1 - The Best Man in the Photograph
Luca Moretti stared at the photograph until the pixels began to blur.
His best man was Dominic Russo.
The same Dominic who had stood beside him at his father’s funeral.
The same Dominic who had taken a knife meant for Luca when they were twenty-three.
The same Dominic who was supposed to stand three feet behind him at St. Catherine’s Cathedral in forty-eight hours while Luca married Vanessa Bellini.
Security broke the silence.
“Boss?”
Luca’s hand remained on the edge of the desk.
“Send the photographs to nobody.”
“Understood.”
“Not your deputy.”
A pause.
“Not Angelo?”
“Especially not Angelo.”
That answer changed something on the other end of the line.
Angelo Ferraro had run security for the Moretti family for twelve years.
Luca trusted him with his home.
His schedule.
His cars.
His private meetings.
And tomorrow’s wedding security.
“Lock the file.”
Luca looked once more at Dominic’s face on the monitor.
“And tell me who accessed the upstairs camera system between four and five.”
“We’ll check.”
“No.”
Luca’s voice hardened.
“You’ll check yourself.”
He ended the call.
Then he sat alone.
For exactly nine seconds.
On the tenth, someone knocked.
“Come in.”
Dominic Russo stepped into the study wearing a dark charcoal suit with the tie already loosened around his neck.
At forty-one, Dominic looked less like the reckless kid Luca had grown up with and more like the polished vice president of a corporation that happened to have armed men waiting downstairs.
He smiled.
“You disappeared from your own engagement dinner.”
Luca closed the laptop.
“Long day.”
Dominic walked toward the bar.
“You want one?”
“No.”
“That bad?”
“Just tired.”
Dominic poured bourbon for himself.
Luca watched his hands.
Steady.
Relaxed.
No hesitation.
No sign that those same fingers had been wrapped around a document stolen from Luca’s desk one day earlier.
Dominic drank.
“Vanessa thinks you’re avoiding her.”
“Vanessa thinks a lot of things.”
Dominic laughed quietly.
“That’s marriage.”
Luca almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Dominic said something that made the muscles in Luca’s back tighten.
“She wants to move the ceremony up.”
Luca kept his face still.
“To when?”
“Tomorrow evening.”
“Why?”
“Apparently some storm system is coming in Friday.”
“There isn’t.”
Dominic lifted one shoulder.
“I didn’t check.”
Luca leaned against the desk.
“Did she ask you to tell me?”
“No.”
Dominic took another drink.
“She mentioned it.”
“When?”
“Upstairs.”
Luca’s eyes sharpened.
“Tonight?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
Twenty minutes ago, Vanessa had supposedly been in her bedroom.
Dominic saw the question on Luca’s face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Dominic put down the glass.
“You sure?”
Luca nodded.
“Go home.”
Dominic stared at him.
“You kicking out your best man?”
“I’m going to sleep.”
“Since when?”
“Since tomorrow got moved up.”
For the first time, Dominic’s expression changed.
Barely.
But Luca saw it.
A tiny tightening around the mouth.
Then the smile returned.
“Good.”
Dominic slapped the desk lightly.
“About time you made an honest woman out of her.”
He left.
Luca waited until the study door clicked shut.
Then he opened the laptop again.
The photograph filled the screen.
Dominic.
Vanessa.
The document.
The wedding date.
DO IT BEFORE HE SAYS I DO.
Luca picked up his phone.
“Bring Claire to my study.”
The housekeeper hesitated.
“Dr. Harris just finished examining her hand.”
“Can she walk?”
“Yes.”
“Then bring her.”
Five minutes later, I stepped into Luca Moretti’s study with my left hand wrapped in a fresh medical bandage.
Dr. Harris had splinted two fingers.
Nothing was broken.
That was the good news.
The bad news was written all over Luca’s face.
He waited until the housekeeper left.
Then locked the door.
That frightened me more than I wanted to admit.
“Sit.”
I did.
He turned the laptop toward me.
The photograph appeared.
My stomach dropped.
I recognized Vanessa immediately.
Then the man beside her.
Dominic Russo.
Everyone in the house knew Dominic.
He came and went without being announced.
He had keys.
Codes.
Permission.
If Luca Moretti owned the house, Dominic moved through it like a man who had helped build the walls.
Luca studied me.
“You’ve seen this?”
“No.”
“That card was in your locker.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
I looked at my bandaged hand.
“Because Vanessa wanted it.”
His eyes narrowed.
“She hurt you because of the card?”
I didn’t answer.
Luca leaned forward.
“Claire.”
“Yes.”
The word came out almost soundless.
He remained very still.
“How did you get it?”
“I found it.”
“Where?”
“In the linen room.”
His gaze changed.
“Before Vanessa went inside?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“It was taped behind the bottom shelf.”
“How did you know to look?”
“I didn’t.”
That answer clearly irritated him.
“Then why were you pulling shelves apart?”
“I dropped a stack of pillowcases.”
He said nothing.
“I bent down to pick them up.”
My voice trembled despite my effort to control it.
“The tape was sticking out behind the baseboard.”
“What kind of tape?”
“Blue painter’s tape.”
“And you removed it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my name was written on it.”
That stopped him.
Luca stared at me.
“What?”
I looked at the screen again.
“C.D.”
“Those could be anyone’s initials.”
“There was more.”
His expression hardened.
“What more?”
I had not told the doctor.
I had not told the housekeeper.
I had not told security.
Because after Vanessa had grabbed my wrist inside that closet, I had stopped trusting anyone who worked in Luca Moretti’s house.
I reached into the pocket of my uniform.
Luca’s body tensed.
Slowly, I pulled out a folded piece of paper.
I placed it on his desk.
He opened it.
There were only eight words.
IF YOU FIND THIS, DO NOT TRUST HOUSE SECURITY.
Luca read them twice.
“Who wrote this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You recognize the handwriting?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Was this with the card?”
“Yes.”
“And you kept it from security?”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened.
“Why?”
I looked directly at him.
“Because the note told me to.”
For one second, something close to approval crossed his face.
Then it disappeared.
“When Vanessa came into the linen room, what did she say?”
My throat tightened.
“She asked what I found.”
“And?”
“I said nothing.”
“Then?”
“She locked the door.”
His eyes went cold.
“She asked again.”
I touched the bandage without meaning to.
“I told her I found loose tape.”
Luca’s voice became quieter.
“What did she do to your hand?”
I looked away.
“She thought I was hiding something in it.”
He stood.
The movement was so sudden my chair scraped backward.
But he didn’t come toward me.
He walked to the window.
Chicago glowed below the dark glass.
“When she left, you still had the card.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I dropped it inside a basket of clean towels before she reached me.”
Luca looked over his shoulder.
“And afterward?”
“I went back.”
“Why?”
“Because if she wanted it badly enough to do this—”
I lifted my bandaged hand.
“—I figured it mattered.”
Luca stared at me for a long time.
Then his phone buzzed.
Security.
He answered immediately.
“What did you find?”
Silence.
Luca’s expression changed.
“Say that again.”
I watched him grip the phone.
“When?”
Another pause.
“No one leaves the property.”
His eyes moved to me.
“Especially Vanessa.”
He disconnected.
“What happened?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Then he crossed to the laptop and opened a security log.
A list of electronic access records appeared.
One line had been highlighted.
UPSTAIRS CAMERA SERVER.
ADMINISTRATOR LOGIN.
4:12 P.M.
Luca pointed to the name beside it.
ANGELO FERRARO.
His head of security.
Four minutes before I entered the linen room.
Luca’s phone rang again.
Different number.
He answered.
“Moretti.”
A distorted voice spoke loudly enough that I heard part of it.
“You’re looking in the wrong direction.”
Luca froze.
“Who is this?”
The caller ignored the question.
“The maid found what Teresa left behind.”
My skin went cold.
Luca looked sharply at me.
“Teresa who?”
The voice laughed once.
Then said two words.
“Ask Claire.”
The line went dead.
Luca lowered the phone.
His eyes stayed on mine.
“Who is Teresa?”
I couldn’t lie anymore.
“Teresa Walsh.”
His expression became unreadable.
“The accountant who resigned three weeks ago?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Luca’s voice hardened.
“No what?”
I took a breath.
“Teresa never resigned.”
May you like
And then I told him the part I had been too afraid to tell anyone.
“The night before she disappeared, she came to my apartment.”
