Chapter 7: The Call He Had Been Putting Off
It rang four times.
Then Elena's voice, careful and quiet.
"Luca."
"She's agreed to leave," he said.
"I thought you should know before it was on the news."
A pause.
"Is she being charged?"
"Arthur believes the state attorney will move forward.
Mercer is cooperating.
Coates has given a full account.
She won't be able to say she didn't know."
Another pause.
"And the clause?" Elena asked.
"That's why I'm calling." He was quiet for a moment.
"I'd like to discuss dissolving it.
Properly.
With attorneys who work for us separately and not together."
The line was silent long enough that I wondered if she was still there.
"Luca," she said finally.
"I never intended to use it.
I want you to know that.
When Patrick drafted it, I thought I was protecting myself.
I didn't — I didn't know what he'd done with it since."
"I know."
"I should have dissolved it years ago."
"Yes."
A brief silence.
"I'll call my new attorney today," Elena said.
"Thank you."
He was about to hang up.
"Luca." Her voice was different now.
Softer.
"The woman who came to my door last night."
He looked at me across the desk.
"What about her?" he said.
"She didn't have to do that.
She could have stayed quiet and kept her job."
"I know."
"Take care of her," Elena said.
He looked at me for a moment longer than felt like nothing.
"I intend to," he said.
He ended the call.
Arthur gathered his papers and excused himself.
The room was quiet.
Outside, I could hear movement in the upper hallway — measured, deliberate.
Vanessa's door opening.
A suitcase being rolled.
I stood up.
"You should stay," Luca said.
"I have work this morning."
"The house isn't running service today.
Mrs.
Carter told you that."
I stopped.
"Sit down, Olivia."
I sat.
He looked at the desk for a moment.
Then at me.
"You've worked here nine months," he said.
"Yes, sir."
"In that time, have I ever seemed like a man who doesn't notice things?"
"No."
"Then you'll understand," he said, "that I noticed you.
Long before last night."
My throat tightened.
"I need to ask you something," he said.
"And I need you to answer honestly, not the way you think I want you to answer."
"All right."
"Are you afraid of me?"
I thought about it.
Properly.
The nine months.
The quiet of the house.
The way he had set down his fork at the dinner table and said my name.
"No," I said.
"Are you afraid of what staying here might mean?"
My hands were still in my lap.
"Yes," I said.
"A little."
He nodded, as if that was the right answer.
"Then we'll go slowly," he said.
I didn't say anything.
Outside, wheels rolled across the upper floor.
A door closed.
The sound moved toward the staircase.
Vanessa Bellini left the Moretti mansion at 10:43 in the morning, with two suitcases and without saying goodbye to anyone but the driver.
May you like
I watched from the window of the study.
Luca did not watch at all.
