Chapter 3 - THE BRIDE WHO DISAPPEARED BEFORE MIDNIGHT
Z
Vanessa Bellini had left the mansion through the underground garage.
She'd taken a silver Mercedes registered to one of Luca's holding companies.
Her phone remained upstairs.
Her engagement ring lay on the vanity.
And her wedding dress, a custom creation worth more than my annual salary, hung untouched beside the window.
Gabriel showed Luca the security footage.
At eleven thirty-eight, Vanessa crossed the garage wearing black trousers and a gray coat. She carried a small suitcase.
A man opened the passenger door.
His face was obscured by a baseball cap.
But when he turned, the camera caught his wrist.
A gold watch.
Luca stared.
“Charles.”
Nobody answered.
I sat near the fireplace, feeling as though I had accidentally walked into a nightmare belonging to people much richer than me.
Rebecca Shaw arrived twenty minutes later.
She was a corporate attorney in her forties with short dark hair, a severe navy suit, and the expression of someone who had been interrupted during something important.
She listened to Luca's explanation without interrupting.
Then she examined the wedding documents.
“Who drafted these?”
“Charles.”
Rebecca looked up.
“After his death?”
Luca nodded.
“His office said the drafts were completed beforehand.”
Rebecca turned another page.
Then another.
Her expression tightened.
“Luca, did you read the revised trust agreement?”
“I reviewed the summary.”
“That wasn't my question.”
He stared at her.
“No.”
Rebecca laid the document on the desk.
“This isn't a standard marital trust.”
“What is it?”
“A conditional transfer agreement tied to a charitable foundation.”
Luca frowned.
“Vanessa's foundation?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca pointed to a paragraph.
“Upon completion of the marriage and execution of the accompanying documents, controlling voting interests in three of your real-estate entities would move into a jointly administered trust.”
Luca looked at the page.
“And Vanessa would control the trust?”
“Not directly.”
Rebecca's voice sharpened.
“Charles Whitmore would.”
Gabriel swore.
Luca went very still.
Rebecca continued.
“The trust appoints Whitmore as managing trustee for an initial five-year period.”
“He's dead.”
“Apparently not.”
Luca stared at the document.
“Could they enforce this without my signature?”
“Not lawfully. But they may have intended to obtain it during the wedding paperwork, conceal the terms, or forge supporting documents.”
I watched Luca's expression change from disbelief to something colder.
For years, Chicago newspapers had described him as ruthless, calculating, impossible to deceive.
Yet someone had almost taken control of his businesses using a wedding.
A wedding to a woman he was supposed to love.
Rebecca looked at me.
“Anna, did you hear anything else?”
I thought carefully.
Vanessa's voice.
Whitmore's reply.
The sound of a drawer opening.
Then another sentence.
I closed my eyes.
“She said, 'What if he finds out about the hospital?'”
Rebecca stopped writing.
“What hospital?”
“I don't know.”
Luca looked toward Gabriel.
“Find out.”
Rebecca raised a hand.
“Through lawful records and investigators, Gabriel. No threats. No breaking into anything.”
Gabriel nodded reluctantly.
Luca turned toward me.
“Anna, you should go home.”
I stood too quickly.
Pain tore through my shoulder.
He moved toward me.
Then stopped.
“Do you have someone who can drive you?”
“I can take the bus.”
“At midnight? Injured?”
“I've done it before.”
Something crossed his face.
He looked at Gabriel.
“Arrange transportation, with her permission.”
I wanted to refuse.
But my shoulder hurt.
My head hurt.
And I was exhausted.
“All right,” I whispered.
As I reached the door, Luca spoke again.
“Anna.”
I turned.
“I'm sorry.”
I stared at him.
“For what?”
“For allowing someone in my house to believe she could hurt you without consequences.”
I didn't know what to say.
So I nodded and left.
I was halfway down the corridor when my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
You should have kept your mouth shut, Anna.
A second arrived.
Your brother won't survive another hospital stay.
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Because nobody in that mansion was supposed to know about my brother.
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