Chapter 5
They found Lorenzo before dawn.
Alive.
Sitting in the abandoned hotel chapel.
No weapon in his hand.
No attempt to flee.
Giulietta entered with Cesare.
Warren and Preston remained upstairs.
Lorenzo looked at her bridal gown.
“Still wearing it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To remember how expensive mistakes look.”
He almost smiled.
Giulietta remained standing.
“Why run?”
“I didn’t.”
“You disappeared during a blackout.”
“Yes.”
“Difference?”
“I followed someone.”
“Who?”
“A woman.”
Giulietta’s pulse changed.
“Description.”
“Sixties.”
“Dark coat.”
“Gray hair.”
“Walked like she knew the service corridors.”
Cesare whispered:
“Margaret.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“You know her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you catch her?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“She wanted me to.”
Giulietta frowned.
Lorenzo reached into his jacket.
Two bodyguards moved.
He slowly removed a small key.
Brass.
Old.
“She dropped this.”
Cesare went pale.
Giulietta noticed.
“Saint Helena?”
He nodded.
Her mother’s hidden room.
Giulietta took the key.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because she told me not to trust the bride’s uncle.”
Cesare laughed bitterly.
“Convenient.”
Lorenzo looked at him.
“She used your name.”
Cesare’s face hardened.
“What did she say?”
“Cesare took Lucia out of the fire.”
Silence.
Giulietta slowly turned.
Her uncle did not move.
Lorenzo continued:
“And put her back.”
Giulietta forgot to breathe.
“No.”
Cesare whispered:
“That is not what happened.”
She looked at him.
“Then what happened?”
“Not here.”
“Here.”
“Giulietta.”
She stepped closer.
“Seventeen years.”
Her voice broke for the first time.
“You watched me kneel beside a closed coffin.”
“You watched me ask whether Mom suffered.”
“You told me smoke took her before the fire.”
Cesare’s eyes filled.
“I was trying to—”
“Do not say protect.”
He stopped.
Good.
Giulietta held the brass key between them.
“What happened?”
Cesare sat in a chapel pew.
For the first time, he looked older than Warren.
“Lucia was alive when I reached the lake house.”
Giulietta closed her eyes.
Lorenzo looked away.
“What condition?”
“Burned on one arm.”
“Breathing?”
“Yes.”
“Speaking?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Cesare swallowed.
“She told me not to take her to Vittorio.”
Giulietta opened her eyes.
“Why?”
“She believed your father had chosen power.”
“Did he order the fire?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Then?”
“I got Lucia out through the rear.”
“You saved her.”
“For ten minutes.”
Giulietta stared.
Cesare continued.
“A car was waiting.”
“Whose?”
“Margaret Hale’s.”
Silence.
Giulietta’s chest tightened.
“Margaret was there.”
“Yes.”
“Alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where did they go?”
“I never knew.”
“You let my mother disappear.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she begged me.”
Giulietta stepped back.
The room blurred.
Her mother had not died in the fire.
At least not then.
Every funeral memory became obscene.
Flowers.
Black dress.
Her father’s hand on her shoulder.
Cesare beside the coffin.
“Did Dad know?”
Cesare shook his head.
“No.”
“You lied to your brother.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Lucia said if Vittorio found her, he would force her back.”
“What did she mean?”
“She had proof he was benefiting from the war.”
“Proof?”
“Not paper.”
Good.
Giulietta listened.
“Voices.”
“Recordings?”
“Yes.”
“Of who?”
“Warren.”
“Vittorio.”
“And another man.”
“The traitor.”
Cesare nodded.
“Name?”
“She never told me.”
“Why?”
“She said knowing too early would get me killed.”
Giulietta laughed bitterly.
“And you obeyed.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“Margaret drove Lucia away.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why put her back in the fire?”
“I didn’t.”
Lorenzo frowned.
“The woman said—”
“She lied.”
Cesare looked at Giulietta.
“I returned because Vittorio was coming.”
“And?”
“There was a body inside.”
Silence.
“Who?”
“I never knew.”
“Female?”
“Yes.”
“Burned?”
“Yes.”
“Jewelry?”
“Lucia’s bracelet.”
Giulietta stared.
Someone had placed a substitute body.
A death staged.
Cesare continued.
“I understood Margaret planned it.”
“So Dad would stop searching.”
“Yes.”
“Did he?”
“For Lucia.”
Cesare looked down.
“He started hunting DeLuca.”
Because the planted mark.
Another manipulation.
Giulietta whispered:
“My mother survived.”
“At least that night.”
“How long?”
Cesare shook his head.
“I heard from Margaret once.”
“When?”
“Six months later.”
“What did she say?”
“Lucia was alive.”
Giulietta closed her eyes.
Six months.
Her mother lived while Giulietta mourned.
“After?”
“Nothing.”
“Seventeen years?”
“Yes.”
Giulietta looked toward Lorenzo.
“Did the woman say anything else?”
He nodded.
“One thing.”
“What?”
“She said Lucia never forgave Cesare.”
Cesare’s face changed.
Giulietta stared.
“For what?”
He stood.
“No.”
“Uncle.”
“No.”
“You have used enough silence.”
Cesare looked at her.
Pain.
Guilt.
Then:
“Because I told Vittorio where Margaret was hiding six months later.”
Silence.
Giulietta felt cold.
“Why?”
Cesare’s voice broke.
“Your father was destroying himself.”
“You betrayed Mom.”
“I thought Lucia could stop him.”
“What happened?”
“Vittorio sent men.”
“Did they find her?”
“Yes.”
Giulietta stared.
“Who came back?”
May you like
Cesare whispered:
“Only Vittorio.”
