Chapter 7 - The Fiancée's Confession
Vanessa was waiting at the safe house when they returned.
She had surrendered her phone, given Dominic the messages from Charles, and agreed to cooperate with the investigation.
But when she saw Isabella, she stepped backward.
For a moment, the two women stared at each other.
Then Vanessa began to cry.
“I'm sorry.”
Isabella said nothing.
Vanessa approached slowly.
“I know those words don't mean anything. I know what I did. I lied to you, and I lied to Dominic. I helped Charles move the money. I told myself it was temporary, that I was protecting my family. Then I became so afraid of what I'd done that I kept making it worse.”
Isabella's expression remained guarded.
“You let me believe Dominic had betrayed me.”
“I know.”
“You let him believe I was dead.”
Vanessa lowered her head.
“I know.”
“Why?”
Vanessa looked at Dominic.
“Because I wanted him.”
The admission hung in the room.
“I loved him,” she continued. “Or I thought I did. I knew he was grieving, and I convinced myself that if I stayed beside him long enough, he would eventually love me. When Charles told me Isabella was alive, I was terrified Dominic would choose her and abandon me.”
Dominic stared at her.
“So you turned our grief into a weapon.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Yes.”
Isabella looked away.
“Did you arrange the crash?”
“No. I swear I didn't. Charles told me Marco had arranged a way to frighten Isabella into leaving. I thought they were going to force her out of the city. I didn't know about the fire until afterward.”
“Did you know she survived?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Six days later. I went to the clinic because Charles told me she had been found. He wanted me to make sure she couldn't identify him.”
Isabella's eyes hardened.
“And what did you do?”
“I helped her leave. I paid for a private room at St. Agnes House. I arranged the false name. I told myself I was saving her life.”
“You also told her Dominic had betrayed her.”
Vanessa's tears fell faster.
“Yes.”
“Why would saving my life require destroying my marriage?”
Vanessa had no answer.
Dominic turned away.
He had spent eighteen months blaming himself for a failure he hadn't understood. He had imagined Isabella's final moments, wondering whether she had called for him, whether she had been afraid, whether she had died believing he had abandoned her.
Now he knew that someone had deliberately created that suffering.
“Give us everything you have,” he told Vanessa. “Every message, every account, every conversation with Charles.”
“I will.”
“And when this is over, you will answer for your part in it.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I understand.”
A phone rang in Pietro's office.
He answered, listened, then hurried into the room.
“Boss, Agent Lawson is here. She says she has a warrant for the ledgers.”
Dominic frowned.
“How did she know we had them?”
Pietro handed him a note.
It contained a single sentence.
Do not hand over the evidence until you verify the agent's identity.
Dominic looked at Daniel.
“Who sent this?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Pietro returned.
“Agent Lawson is waiting outside. She says if we don't cooperate, she'll have the house searched.”
Dominic examined the note again.
Then he called the number listed on the federal investigator's letter.
A woman answered.
“Special Agent Rebecca Lawson.”
Dominic explained the situation and asked her to come to a private meeting at a location of his choosing.
She agreed.
Twenty minutes later, the real Lawson arrived with two federal agents.
The woman waiting outside the safe house, however, was not Lawson.
She was a private investigator employed by Richard Vale.
And she had already sent a message to her employer.
They have the ledgers. The wife is alive.
May you like
Vale's reply came immediately.
Bring them all to the warehouse. I want the evidence, and I want Isabella Moretti silenced permanently.
