Chương 5
Alessandro found Emma in the family kitchen eating frosting from a paper plate.
Lucia had changed out of her silk dress and put on a navy cardigan over her slip. Sophia sat at the table with both hands around a mug she had not touched. Emma’s lavender dress was stained at the hem, and someone had removed her shoes.
When Alessandro entered, Sophia stood.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
She remained standing.
Emma pointed her plastic fork toward the cake on her plate. “It has lemon.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t eat yours.”
“There wasn’t time.”
“There is now.”
Sophia said, “Emma.”
“It’s fine.”
Alessandro took a plate from the counter and cut a narrow piece from the extra cake the baker had sent for the household staff. He sat across from Emma. The frosting was too sweet. He ate it anyway.
For nearly a minute, no one discussed the wedding.
A refrigerator motor clicked off. Somewhere down the hall, a vacuum cleaner started, stopped, then started again. Lucia folded a paper napkin into smaller and smaller squares.
Emma licked frosting from her thumb.
“Are you sad?” she asked Alessandro.
Sophia closed her eyes. “Baby, please.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Because Isabella is bad?”
He glanced at Sophia.
She looked exhausted, but she did not rescue him.
“Because someone I loved hurt people,” he said. “And because I didn’t see it.”
Emma thought about this while scraping the plate with her fork.
“Mommy saw it.”
“Yes.”
“You should ask Mommy.”
Sophia looked down at the mug.
Alessandro set his fork beside his plate.
“I should have.”
The admission did not repair anything. It only made the room quiet.
Emma yawned and leaned against her mother’s hip. Sophia lifted her onto her lap. The child’s curls had begun to come loose from the purple band.
Lucia slid the folded napkin away.
“Sophia,” she said, “you and Emma can stay in the west guest rooms tonight.”
“We’re going home.”
“There are photographers outside your building.”
Sophia looked at Alessandro. “How do you know where I live?”
The question was reasonable. It sounded like an accusation anyway.
“Your employment file,” he said.
“Which security reviewed?”
“After the video leaked, yes.”
“Without asking me.”
Marco appeared in the doorway but did not enter. He had removed his tie. A small cut crossed one knuckle where the tablet had struck the altar.
“We assessed exposure,” he said. “Your address is already circulating.”
Sophia went pale.
“How?”
“Someone found an old fundraising page for Emma’s preschool.”
Sophia stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor. Emma startled awake against her.
“Take it down.”
“It is down,” Marco said. “Copies remain.”
“I need to go home.”
“You should not go there tonight.”
“My medication is there. Emma’s things are there. Her rabbit is there.”
“A real rabbit?” Lucia asked.
“A stuffed one.”
Emma lifted her head. “His name is Mr. Bun.”
Marco said, “I can have a female security officer retrieve what you need.”
“No.”
“Sophia,” Alessandro said, “this is not about controlling you.”
“That is what people say while they decide where I’m allowed to sleep.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
Lucia stood. “I’ll go with her.”
Marco objected. “Mrs. Moretti—”
“I have been entering apartments without permission since before you had gray hair.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“It was not intended to be.”
Sophia looked between them. A tired laugh escaped her before she could stop it. She covered her mouth, embarrassed.
The laugh changed the room more than any apology could have.
Lucia picked up her purse.
“Come,” she said. “We’ll retrieve Mr. Bun and whatever medication you need. Marco can send a car two blocks behind us and feel important.”
“I can hear you,” Marco said.
“That saves time.”
Sophia hesitated, then nodded.
Before leaving, she turned to Alessandro.
“I’m not signing anything tonight.”
“I haven’t asked you to.”
“You will.”
He wanted to deny it.
Daniel’s warning remained in his head: transport, house, pay, question.
“You should have your own lawyer,” he said.
“I can’t afford one.”
“I’ll pay.”
Her face hardened immediately.
“Then it’s your lawyer.”
“No. You choose. Payment goes through an independent fund.”
“That sounds like a wealthy man’s version of independence.”
“It probably is.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
At least he had not tried to make the offer sound pure.
“We’ll discuss it tomorrow,” she said.
After they left, Alessandro sat alone at the kitchen table with the unfinished cake.
Marco remained in the doorway.
“Did you know the old Romano recording existed?” Alessandro asked.
“I knew there were archived drives.”
“That was not my question.”
Marco came in and sat opposite him. He placed both hands on the table, the injured knuckle facing up.
“I found the clip four days ago.”
“Four days.”
“Yes.”
“You waited until the wedding.”
“I tried to reach you Thursday night.”
“You told me there was a security issue.”
“You said anything not involving an immediate threat could wait until after the rehearsal dinner.”
Alessandro remembered the call. Isabella had been beside him in the car. She had taken his phone, told Marco that Alessandro had promised one evening without work, and ended the call while smiling.
He had let her.
“You could have insisted.”
“I should have.”
“You let a child do it for you.”
Marco’s expression changed.
“No.”
“She spoke before you showed the footage.”
“I did not know she would be in the chapel.”
“But you knew Sophia had not agreed to confront Isabella publicly.”
“Yes.”
“You chose a room where she could not avoid it.”
Marco looked toward the dark window above the sink.
“I chose a room with witnesses because the first six women we contacted withdrew their complaints after private conversations with Romano attorneys.”
“You used my wedding.”
May you like
“I used the only hour in which Isabella, Vittorio, Lucia, you, and the relevant staff were in one place with no opportunity to destroy evidence before it was seen.”
“You could have shown me the footage privately.”
