Chapter 5 - The Locked Palazzo
Nathan caught me before I reached the elevator.
“You cannot run into that building.”
“My wife is there.”
“And Caleb may want exactly that.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
Nathan grabbed my shoulders.
“If Caleb built this entire fraud around making you the fall guy, then bringing you to the scene is perfect.”
That stopped me.
Barely.
We contacted Italian authorities.
Charles called private security.
Trinity insisted on coming.
“No.”
“She’s my friend,” Trinity said.
I stared at her.
“My wife?”
Her face tightened.
“Before you.”
I felt sick.
“What?”
“Dakota and I met six years ago.”
The hallway went silent.
“We worked together at a charity aviation fundraiser in Atlanta. We weren’t close, but we stayed in touch.”
“You told me you’d never met her.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because when Caleb told me to get close to you, I already knew exactly who your wife was.”
I could barely look at her.
“Did Dakota know?”
“Not at first.”
“At first?”
Trinity wiped her eyes.
“Three months ago, she called me.”
The affair had been exposed because of something stupid.
A restaurant receipt.
Not lipstick.
Not perfume.
Not a secret message.
A $14 dessert.
Dakota knew I hated chocolate.
The receipt showed two desserts—lemon tart and chocolate mousse—from a restaurant where I claimed I had eaten alone.
She started checking.
She found Trinity.
Instead of confronting either of us, Dakota contacted her.
Trinity confessed.
Then she told Dakota about Caleb.
“You’ve both known for three months?”
“Yes.”
I leaned against the wall.
Every smile Dakota had given me.
Every dinner.
Every quiet evening.
She had known.
“Why didn’t she confront me?”
Trinity’s answer destroyed the last excuse I had left.
“Because she wanted to see whether you would tell her yourself.”
I never did.
We reached Palazzo Vieri shortly before one in the morning.
Police surrounded the rear entrance quietly.
Inside, most lights were off.
Then Evelyn appeared at an upstairs window.
Alone.
A minute later, Dakota called.
I answered.
“Where are you?”
“In the courtyard.”
“I told you not to come.”
“You’re my wife.”
“For approximately another thirty days.”
Even terrified, she could still cut me open.
“Are you safe?”
“For now.”
“Where’s Caleb?”
“Library.”
“Why are you with him?”
“He thinks I can authorize an amendment to the trust.”
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“He needs your signature?”
“And my grandmother’s.”
I looked toward the window.
Evelyn disappeared.
Dakota continued.
“He doesn’t know police are here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can see them from the east window.”
Nathan whispered something to an officer.
Then Dakota said, “Mason?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something I need you to do.”
“Anything.”
“Go home.”
I thought I had misheard her.
“What?”
“Not tonight. After this.”
“Dakota—”
“Go home and stop trying to rescue me because you feel guilty.”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.”
Silence stretched between us.
Then she whispered, “For eight months, you made choices based on what you wanted. Make one based on what I’m asking.”
I closed my eyes.
“All right.”
The police entered five minutes later.
No gunshots.
No dramatic fight.
Just shouting from inside.
Then a side door opened.
Dakota emerged first.
I instinctively moved toward her.
And stopped.
Because she had asked me to.
Her eyes found mine.
For one second, something softened.
Then officers escorted Caleb outside in handcuffs.
He saw me and laughed.
“You think she won?”
I said nothing.
“You still don’t know.”
He turned toward Dakota.
“Tell him why Vieri chose Flight 912.”
Dakota’s face changed.
Caleb smiled.
“Tell him what happened to her father.”
Evelyn appeared behind Dakota.
“Enough.”
But Caleb kept laughing as police led him away.
I looked at my wife.
“What was he talking about?”
Dakota stared at the pavement.
“My father didn’t simply die, Mason.”
“What happened?”
She raised her eyes.
“Twenty-two years ago, he was killed in a plane crash.”
My throat tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“That flight was also numbered 912.”
I looked back at the palazzo.
“What does that have to do with Bellweather?”
May you like
Dakota’s next words changed everything.
“My father was investigating Charles Bell when he died.”
