Chapter 12
Dominic Vane had known Giulietta since she was born.
That made every memory dangerous.
Birthday gifts.
Horseback lessons.
The first gun Vittorio allowed her to hold.
Dominic standing behind her saying:
“Never point at what you aren’t ready to lose.”
Good advice.
Maybe too good.
Dominic had served Vittorio before becoming officially neutral.
He had retired from active Marconi business nine years earlier.
Exactly one year after Lucia disappeared in Boston.
Giulietta saw it now.
Not proof.
Pattern.
“Where would he go?” Cesare asked.
Giulietta thought.
Dominic owned several properties.
He liked none.
There was one place he used when Vittorio was alive.
The winter hunting lodge at Black Pine.
Rocco? no.
Giulietta looked at Margaret.
“Did Lucia ever mention Black Pine?”
Margaret went pale.
“Yes.”
Cesare turned.
“What?”
“The last message Lucia sent me.”
Giulietta stared.
“You said she disappeared.”
“She did.”
“Message before?”
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Dominic knows.”
Silence.
Giulietta’s voice became deadly.
“You waited until now.”
“I didn’t know which Dominic.”
“How many Dominics were in our lives?”
Margaret flinched.
“Lucia wrote only those two words.”
“Why hide it?”
“Because Vittorio’s father was Domenico. Dominic Vane. Dominic Moretti. Too many names around old families.”
Giulietta laughed bitterly.
“And you decided confusion justified silence.”
Margaret accepted it.
“Yes.”
Preston stood near the chapel wall.
“Why am I still here?”
Giulietta looked at him.
“Because Dominic arranged us.”
“That doesn’t make me useful.”
“No.”
Her voice cooled.
“The fact he expected you to become violent does.”
Preston’s face hardened.
“He didn’t make me swing.”
“Correct.”
Silence.
“He knew you would.”
That hurt.
Preston looked away.
Warren spoke.
“Dominic knew me when Preston was a child.”
Preston turned.
“How?”
“Vane handled Marconi negotiations.”
“And?”
“He saw you.”
Preston’s face changed.
Maybe memories.
An older man visiting.
Watching.
Telling Warren that boys needed hardness.
Warren continued.
“He once told me you were too soft.”
Preston laughed.
“And what did you do?”
Warren said nothing.
Enough.
Giulietta looked at Margaret.
“Did Dominic know Warren abused you?”
“Yes.”
“Did he stop it?”
“No.”
“Did he encourage it?”
Margaret hesitated.
“Once.”
Warren’s face went hard.
She continued.
“He told Warren that a wife who feared leaving was more loyal than one who chose staying.”
Preston closed his eyes.
Dominic had not merely predicted Preston’s violence.
He had helped build the household that produced it.
Giulietta looked at Cesare.
“You knew Dominic was close to Dad.”
“Yes.”
“How close?”
“Closer after Lucia disappeared.”
“Why?”
“Vittorio trusted fewer people.”
“And Dominic became one.”
“Yes.”
The architecture was clear.
Create fear.
Wait for isolation.
Step closer.
Dominic benefited from every broken relationship.
Giulietta looked at Lorenzo.
“You.”
He frowned.
“Me?”
“Why did you disappear during the blackout?”
“I told you.”
“You followed Margaret.”
“Yes.”
“How did she enter the hotel?”
Margaret answered:
“Service stair.”
“Who gave you the access code?”
Silence.
Giulietta stared.
Margaret looked toward Lorenzo.
His face changed.
“Lorenzo.”
He whispered:
“I did.”
Cesare stepped forward.
Giulietta raised one hand.
“Why?”
Lorenzo looked ashamed.
“Dominic told me to.”
The room went still.
Giulietta felt betrayal arrive quietly.
“How long have you been speaking to him?”
“Years.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
Cesare cursed.
Giulietta ignored him.
“Did you betray my routes?”
“No.”
“Money?”
“No.”
“Meetings?”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because Dominic told me Vittorio asked him to watch over you.”
Giulietta laughed once.
There it was again.
Protection.
Lorenzo continued.
“He said your father knew you would become too trusting after taking the chair.”
“Did that sound like me?”
“No.”
“Yet you obeyed.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lorenzo looked down.
“Because Dominic helped my family when my brother died.”
Temporary need.
Another hook.
Giulietta asked:
“Did you know he arranged Preston?”
“No.”
“Did you know Margaret was alive?”
“No.”
“Did you cause the blackout?”
“Yes.”
Warren laughed bitterly.
“Excellent household.”
Giulietta looked at Lorenzo.
“You made me think someone was attacking.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Dominic said Margaret would not speak unless she believed she could leave unseen.”
“And the card?”
“She gave it to me.”
“Did Dominic know?”
“I don’t know.”
Giulietta stared.
Lorenzo had betrayed her privacy.
Not necessarily her life.
The distinction mattered.
“What now?” he asked.
Giulietta looked at him.
“You do nothing.”
His face tightened.
“You leave your gun.”
“Giulietta—”
“Nothing.”
Lorenzo removed it.
Placed it on the chapel table.
She did not exile him.
Not yet.
No decisions from anger.
That lesson had cost too much blood already.
Giulietta turned toward Preston.
“You want to know why you’re still here?”
“Yes.”
“Because Dominic wants Hale and Marconi together.”
“So?”
“So we give him what he wants.”
Warren stared.
“You’re still marrying him?”
Preston looked at Giulietta.
She almost smiled.
“No.”
“The wedding is dead.”
“Then?”
She looked around.
“He wants one house.”
“Tonight, we become one room.”
Warren understood first.
Hale.
Marconi.
Margaret.
Cesare.
Preston.
Giulietta.
Every fracture Dominic had spent decades widening.
Gathered together.
“You’re setting a trap.”
Giulietta’s expression darkened.
“No.”
May you like
“He already set one.”
“We’re deciding where to stand inside it.”
