Chapter 4: The Price of Hope
Marcello’s phone slipped against his palm.
“Who disabled it?”
Victor looked toward the stairs.
“I’ll ask the control room.”
“You are the control room,” Marcello said.
“Give me your radio and leave the building.”
Celeste caught Marcello’s sleeve.
“Don’t punish your staff because Thomas staged this.”
Lily stepped forward and opened her fist.
“The lady dropped this.”
A corner of paper rested in her small palm.
Sarah gave it to Marcello.
It was the missing plane ticket.
The passenger was Vanessa Reed, and the flight departed for Montreal in three hours.
“You planned to leave tonight,” Marcello said.
Celeste’s eyes narrowed.
“I planned to leave after the way your family treated me.”
“With two suitcases already at the airport?”
“You had someone follow me?”
Thomas appeared at the end of the corridor, rubbing his wrist.
One guard stood beside him.
“I released him,” the guard said.
“Mr.
DeLuca, Victor ordered us to take him outside without checking his identification.”
Victor lifted his radio.
“You’re dismissed.”
“No,” Marcello said.
“You are.”
Celeste marched toward Lily.
“What else did you pick up?”
Sarah stepped between them.
“You will not speak to my daughter that way.”
“You brought her upstairs to search through my belongings.”
“Lily came looking for a bathroom.”
“And somehow she found exactly what Thomas needed?”
Sarah’s chin rose.
“My daughter told the truth before she knew anyone’s name.”
Celeste turned back to Marcello.
“Send them away, and I’ll explain everything privately.”
“No more private explanations.”
Her voice dropped.
“Your wife has been gone for five years.
You told me you thought you would never have a family.
I gave that hope back to you.”
“You sold it to me.”
“I loved you.”
“Then say it plainly.
Are you carrying my child?”
Celeste looked around the corridor.
“Not in front of these people.”
Marcello held up the false belly.
“They have already seen your answer.”
She pulled off her engagement ring and pressed it into his hand.
“You wanted a miracle so badly that you never asked sensible questions.
That is not my fault.”
The ring dug into his palm.
His shoulders folded, and he pressed one hand against the wall.
Sarah moved closer.
“Mr.
DeLuca, sit down.”
Celeste’s mouth twisted.
“Don’t comfort him.
He doesn’t want truth.
He wants someone to tell him he can still become the man his late wife expected.”
“Stop,” Marcello whispered.
“You proposed after twelve weeks because you were desperate.”
“Stop.”
“She would have seen through me.”
Marcello’s knees struck the chair behind him.
Sarah caught his arm before he fell.
“You used his grief,” she said.
Celeste picked up her handbag.
“He offered it.”
Marcello stared at the floor until Lily touched his sleeve.
“Are you sad because the baby wasn’t real?”
He covered his face.
Sarah crouched beside him while Thomas turned away to give him privacy.
“Yes,” Marcello said at last.
“I wanted the baby to be real.”
Lily leaned against his arm.
“I’m sorry.”
Sarah’s eyes filled.
“Hope isn’t foolish, Marcello.
But you wanted a child so much that you stopped asking whether she loved you.”
He lowered his hands.
“That is the truth, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Sarah said softly.
“And she counted on you being too ashamed to admit it.”
A notification sounded on Marcello’s phone.
He read it once, then stood so quickly the chair tipped over.
“What happened?” Thomas asked.
Marcello turned the screen toward them.
A transfer of $2.4 million had just left the Elena DeLuca Family Foundation.
Celeste backed toward the stairs.
Marcello met her eyes.
May you like
“Only three people had authority to move that money—me, Rebecca, and the woman I named as my future wife.”
Celeste ran.
