Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Sofia Rossi
The morning mist was still clinging,
to the edges of the canyon,
as I waited for Margaret Vance in a quiet,
nondescript office in Santa Monica.
She was a woman built of steel and tailored wool,
with eyes that had seen every lie,
a man was capable of telling.
I placed the photographs on her desk,
the images of Leonardo and Sofia,
glowing under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Margaret didn't flinch,
she didn't gasp,
she simply put on a pair of glasses,
and studied the jewelry,
hanging from Sofia’s ears.
"These diamonds,"
she began,
tapping the photo with a manicured nail,
"can you prove they are yours?"
"I have the appraisal certificates,"
I replied,
"and the insurance policy,
under my maiden name."
"They were a gift from my grandmother,"
"and they are worth nearly half a million dollars."
Margaret leaned back in her chair,
a small,
dangerous smile playing on her lips.
"He didn't just cheat on you,
Elena,"
she said,
her voice low and precise.
"He committed grand larceny,
and fraud."
"If Sofia Rossi is legally dead,"
"then Leonardo has been collecting,
life insurance payments for five years."
"And if she is alive,"
"as these photos clearly show,"
"then he is also guilty of bigamy."
The room seemed to tilt on its axis,
as the magnitude of the situation,
began to settle in my mind.
Leonardo hadn't just married me for money,
he had married me because he needed a shield,
a fresh source of capital,
to fund the elaborate lie of his life.
He was a man living on borrowed time,
and borrowed diamonds.
"I want more than a divorce,"
I whispered,
gripping the arms of my chair.
"I want him to lose everything."
"I want him to feel as exiled,"
"as I did when he put me in that car."
Margaret nodded,
the light reflecting off her glasses,
making her look like a predator.
"We need to play the long game,"
she advised.
"Go back to the villa."
"Act as if nothing has changed."
"Let him think the spa retreat,"
"has made you even more submissive,
and relaxed."
"While you are there,"
"I need you to find his primary laptop."
"There will be records of the insurance claims,"
"and the offshore accounts,
where he is hiding the money,
from his failing investment firm."
The thought of returning to that villa,
of sleeping in that bed,
and smelling the lavender on his skin,
made my skin crawl with revulsion.
But I knew she was right.
Revenge was a dish,
best served at room temperature,
inside a luxury oceanfront villa.
I left her office and stopped,
at a local drug store,
buying a small,
hidden camera,
disguised as a common phone charger.
I drove back to Malibu,
the ocean sparkling to my left,
a vast,
unfeeling blue,
that didn't care about my shattered heart.
I pulled into the driveway,
noticing that the red dress was gone,
and the candles had been replaced,
by the morning's fresh lilies.
Leonardo was sitting on the terrace,
the same terrace where he had danced with his ghost,
and he was reading the Wall Street Journal.
He looked up when he heard my footsteps,
a look of genuine surprise,
flashing across his handsome face.
"Elena?"
he asked,
standing up and opening his arms.
"You're back early,
baby."
"I missed you so much,"
he lied,
his voice sounding like a symphony of deceit.
I walked into his embrace,
feeling the familiar strength of his arms,
and the warmth of his chest.
I closed my eyes,
imagining I was hugging a corpse,
a beautiful,
well-dressed corpse.
"The retreat was lovely,
Leo,"
I said,
pulling back and smiling,
the fake happiness,
straining the muscles in my face.
"I realized that I didn't want space."
"I wanted to be with my husband."
He kissed my forehead,
completely unaware,
that the woman in his arms,
was already planning his funeral.
"That’s my girl,"
he whispered.
"I’m so glad you’re home."
I walked past him into the bedroom,
noticing a faint scent,
of a perfume that wasn't mine.
It was musky,
expensive,
and it smelled like Sofia Rossi.
I went to the bathroom sink,
and saw my wedding ring,
sitting exactly where I had left it.
Beside it,
was a small,
stray thread,
of red silk.
I picked it up,
feeling the smoothness of the fabric,
May you like
and I smiled.
The ghost had left a trail.
