THE MAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH

Chapter 5 – THE GHOST IN THE ROOM

Vanessa stood amidst the abandoned crystal and ruined centerpieces, holding the flight itinerary like a royal decree.

Answer one: Vanessa’s endgame wasn’t just marrying into the Moretti family for status. It was a long con to steal the syndicate’s untraceable cash and secure an insurance policy to guarantee her escape.

Open two: How did she bypass the biometric security on Luca’s laptop to authorize a massive wire transfer? And who helped her set up the offshore shell company?

“Sixty million dollars,” Vanessa purred, tracing the edge of the paper with a manicured nail. “A small price for your freedom, Luca. You let me walk out the front door, and I stop the email to the Feds. We both win.”

Luca looked at the woman he had almost married. The sheer audacity of her plan was almost impressive, if it wasn’t so deeply flawed.

“You think you can steal from the Moretti family and just fly to an island?” Luca asked, his voice eerily calm. “I have men on every airstrip in this city. You wouldn’t make it past the tollbooth.”

“I don’t need an airstrip,” Vanessa smirked. “A helicopter is landing on your south lawn in exactly four minutes. Now, be a good boy and step aside.”

She picked up her silk skirt and began to walk toward the terrace doors.

“Stop,” a voice echoed from the hallway.

Vanessa froze. Luca turned.

Standing in the arched doorway of the dining room was Eleanor Vance. Her silver hair was wild, her florist apron wrinkled, but her eyes burned with the fury of a grieving mother. She held the heavy, silver pocket watch in her hand.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Vanessa,” Eleanor said, her voice shaking with rage.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, please. The ghost of mother-in-laws past. What are you going to do, Eleanor? Hit me with a bouquet?”

“No,” Eleanor said, stepping into the dining room. “I’m going to give you what you left behind.”

Reversal: Eleanor didn’t pull out a weapon. She reached into her apron and pulled out a heavy, blood-stained wool coat.

Vanessa’s mocking smile vanished. She took a step back, her eyes locked on the coat. “Where did you get that?”

“From the alley behind David’s apartment,” Eleanor said, throwing the heavy coat onto the polished mahogany dining table. It landed with a dull thud. “You thought you killed him, didn’t you? You took his money, hit him over the head, and left him freezing in the snow.”

Vanessa’s breath hitched. “He was dead. I checked his pulse.”

“He was barely breathing,” Eleanor corrected, tears spilling down her wrinkled cheeks. “He dragged himself to a diner. He handed his infant son to a waitress named Natalie to save the boy from you. And then he collapsed.”

Vanessa’s face went chalk white. “Natalie… the maid? That brat she’s hiding…”

“Is your son,” Luca said, his voice a lethal whisper. “The son you abandoned to die.”

Vanessa stared at the coat. The reality of her failed murder was crashing down around her. The invincible facade was cracking.

“Where is David?” Vanessa demanded, her voice shrill. “Where is he?!”

“Safe,” Eleanor spat. “He’s been in a specialized care facility for six years, recovering from the traumatic brain injury you gave him. And today, he finally woke up. He remembered everything. He told me exactly where to find you.”

The sound of distant, heavy rotor blades began to chop through the night sky. The helicopter was approaching.

Vanessa’s eyes darted frantically toward the terrace. She lunged for the door, but Luca was faster. He grabbed her arm, twisting her back into the room.

“Let me go!” she shrieked, thrashing wildly.

“The transfer code, Vanessa,” Luca demanded, pinning her arms. “Stop the email.”

Cliffhanger: Vanessa stopped fighting. She looked up at Luca, her green eyes wide and manic, and let out a hysterical laugh.

“I can’t,” she smiled, blood trickling from her bitten lip. “I lied. There is no email to the Feds. I didn’t need insurance, Luca… because I didn’t act alone.”

Before Luca could process her words, the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking echoed through the dining room.

Luca turned slowly. Standing in the doorway behind Eleanor, holding a suppressed pistol aimed directly at Luca’s chest, was Daniel, his trusted head of security.

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