Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Planned the Anniversary Betrayal
Alexander was still reading his mother’s letter when Luca entered the office for the third time that afternoon.
“We found something on the island cameras.”
Alexander’s head lifted.
“The cameras were off.”
“Some were. Not all.”
Luca placed a tablet in front of him.
“Olivia disabled the hallway cameras outside the east villa and the main suite. But she forgot about the service corridor camera connected to the kitchen system.”
Alexander pressed play.
The video had no sound.
The timestamp was 11:18 p.m. on Olivia’s birthday.
Alexander appeared first, walking unsteadily down the corridor toward the master suite.
He remembered that night in fragments.
Two meetings.
Too much whiskey.
A headache.
Olivia insisting he should celebrate because “Claire will be here tomorrow.”
He remembered telling Olivia to go to bed.
He remembered entering his room alone.
The video continued.
At 11:42, Olivia walked into view.
She was carrying a small cosmetics bag.
She knocked on the master suite door.
No answer.
She used an employee keycard.
Alexander’s face turned to stone.
Six minutes later, she emerged.
She was holding her phone.
She looked at the screen.
Smiled.
Then returned to her own room.
Luca stopped the video.
Alexander did not move.
The photograph she had sent me showed him asleep against the headboard, shirt partly open, red marks across his chest.
Kiss marks.
Proof, I had thought.
Proof that all his promises were lies.
Now Alexander understood what had happened.
Olivia had entered while he was unconscious enough not to wake.
She had staged the marks.
She had taken the photograph.
And she had sent it to his wife.
“This doesn’t excuse me,” Alexander said quietly.
Luca said nothing.
Alexander looked at the frozen image of Olivia on the screen.
“I put her on that plane.”
“Yes.”
“I dismissed Claire when she questioned it.”
“Yes.”
“I brought Olivia back after promising I wouldn’t.”
Luca hesitated.
Then he answered honestly.
“Yes.”
Alexander leaned back.
Most men in his position surrounded themselves with people who lied to protect their pride.
Luca had survived this long because he usually did not.
Alexander rubbed one hand over his face.
“If Claire sees this, she’ll know I didn’t sleep with Olivia.”
“She may.”
“But it won’t fix anything.”
“No.”
The answer landed harder than Alexander expected.
He had spent years believing fidelity was a simple line.
He had never crossed it physically, so he had considered himself loyal.
But he had allowed another woman to occupy emotional space his wife had begged him to protect.
He had defended Olivia.
Comforted Olivia.
Prioritized Olivia’s fear of flying over my humiliation.
And when I finally left, he mocked my ability to stand on my own.
Whether he had touched Olivia no longer seemed like the only question that mattered.
“Find Claire,” he said.
Luca’s phone rang before he could answer.
He stepped aside, listened, then turned sharply.
“What?” Alexander demanded.
Luca lowered the phone.
“We got a ping from the vehicle Marcus Bennett used after crossing into Wisconsin. It showed up near Lake Geneva twenty minutes ago.”
Alexander was already standing.
“There’s more.”
Luca’s expression changed.
“One of Carlo’s men is in the area.”
Alexander stopped.
“Which man?”
“Dino Falcone.”
Dino had worked for Carlo for twelve years.
He had no reason to be near Lake Geneva.
None.
Alexander looked at his mother’s letter.
Then at Olivia’s empty desk beyond the glass.
Then back at Luca.
“Call Carlo.”
Luca did.
No answer.
They tried his house.
Empty.
His driver claimed Carlo had dismissed him that morning.
His security detail had been reassigned.
Alexander felt something cold settle beneath his ribs.
This was no longer about an affair that had never happened.
It was no longer about a broken marriage.
Someone inside his family had moved against my location within hours of Olivia realizing Alexander was investigating.
“Get six men,” he said. “No Moretti family crews. Use Romano Security only.”
Luca understood immediately.
If Carlo was involved, they could not trust internal channels.
Alexander took the stairs to the garage rather than waiting for the elevator.
As the convoy pulled north, he called my phone.
Disconnected.
He called again.
Nothing.
He called Marcus.
Straight to voicemail.
Alexander left a message.
“Marcus, I know you hate me. I don’t care. Carlo may know where Claire is. Get her out now. I’m on my way.”
At the lake house, Marcus had already reached the same conclusion.
He moved with the calm efficiency of someone who had spent years expecting danger from other people’s bad decisions.
He took the leather case.
I grabbed my coat.
“We use the back road,” he said. “No headlights until the tree line.”
“Marcus—”
“Not now.”
A sound came from outside.
A car door.
Then another.
Marcus killed the kitchen lights.
My heart began pounding.
He pulled me toward the rear hallway.
“Stay behind me.”
I hated that sentence.
I had heard Alexander say it a hundred times.
At restaurants.
At events.
During security alerts.
Stay behind me.
As if danger belonged to men and survival belonged to women who obeyed.
But I was pregnant, and someone had just photographed our hiding place.
So I followed.
We reached the mudroom when the front window shattered.
I flinched.
Marcus pushed open the back door.
Cold rain hit my face.
We ran.
The gravel path was slick beneath my shoes.
A dark SUV sat beyond the trees with its engine running.
Marcus unlocked it remotely.
Behind us, the lake house door slammed open.
A man shouted.
“Claire Bennett!”
I froze for half a second at the sound of my maiden name.
Marcus grabbed my arm.
“Move.”
We reached the SUV.
Then headlights exploded across the road in front of us.
Another vehicle blocked the exit.
Marcus swore.
Two men stepped out.
Neither wore masks.
They did not need to.
I recognized one from Moretti family dinners.
Dino Falcone.
Carlo’s man.
He lifted both hands as if he wanted to appear reasonable.
“Mrs. Moretti, we only want the case.”
Marcus moved in front of me.
“You followed the wrong woman.”
Dino smiled.
“No. We followed exactly the right woman.”
A second man came around the vehicle.
Marcus’s hand disappeared beneath his coat.
Dino’s smile faded.
“Don’t make this ugly.”
I looked from his face to the road behind him.
In the distance, faint through the rain, more headlights appeared.
Dino glanced back.
His expression changed.
Three black SUVs were coming fast.
For one terrified second, I did not know whether they belonged to Carlo or someone worse.
Then the lead vehicle came around the bend.
I saw the license plate.
AM-1.
Alexander.
The SUV stopped before the tires had fully straightened.
Alexander was out before the driver reached his door.
He crossed the road in the rain wearing no coat, his white shirt already soaked through.
His eyes found me immediately.
Not the case.
Not Marcus.
Me.
Then his gaze dropped, almost involuntarily, toward my stomach.
The pregnancy was not visible yet.
But he knew.
And the expression on his face was not triumph.
It was devastation.
“Claire,” he said.
It was the first time I had heard his voice since I walked out.
I felt nothing I wanted to admit.
Dino reached toward the inside of his jacket.
Alexander saw it.
Everything happened at once.
Luca shouted.
Marcus pulled me backward.
Alexander moved between me and the road.
A gunshot cracked through the rain.
Alexander jerked.
For one suspended second, he stayed standing.
May you like
Then blood spread across the side of his white shirt.
And the most feared man in Chicago dropped to one knee in front of the wife he had believed would never leave him.
