Chapter 5 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW BEFORE I DID
Vanessa was arrested the following morning.
She had not run with Matteo voluntarily.
At least that was what she claimed.
Police found her in a motel outside Newark, frightened and furious.
I agreed to see her.
Vincent did not like that.
I no longer cared what Vincent liked.
Vanessa sat across from me in an interview room wearing the same expensive cream coat she had worn at the hospital.
For the first time, she looked ordinary.
Tired.
Messy.
Human.
I hated her anyway.
“You knew I was pregnant.”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
“Before I did.”
“Yes.”
“And you told Matteo.”
Her eyes lifted.
“I forwarded the report.”
“Why?”
“He paid me.”
Simple.
Ugly.
No romantic excuse.
No secret love.
Money.
“How much was my marriage worth?”
She flinched.
“I wasn’t trying to destroy your marriage.”
I laughed.
“You refused to let me speak to my husband after an accident.”
“I was following his rules.”
“And enjoying them.”
Silence.
That was answer enough.
She finally whispered:
“At first, I only gave Matteo schedules.”
“At first?”
“He said he was worried Vincent was shutting him out of the family businesses.”
“So you sold him information.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“Travel plans. Meetings. Security changes.”
“My medical information?”
Her face tightened.
“That came later.”
I wanted to hate only her.
It would have been easier.
But every time I tried, I remembered Vincent nodding in the hospital when she admitted refusing my call.
You followed my instructions.
Vanessa had weaponized the door.
Vincent had built it.
“Were you sleeping with him?”
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
I believed her immediately.
Not because I trusted her.
Because she seemed insulted.
“Our dinners?”
“Work.”
“Hospital?”
“I had severe abdominal pain. He insisted I get checked because I collapsed during a meeting.”
“And he cleared your entire schedule.”
“Yes.”
Something inside me twisted.
“You realize that makes it worse.”
Vanessa looked confused.
“He could care,” I whispered. “He just didn’t care when it was me.”
For once, she had nothing to say.
Then she leaned forward.
“Claire, Matteo never told me he would hurt you.”
“You gave him my pregnancy results.”
“I know.”
“You gave him my car schedule.”
“I didn’t.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He already knew.”
“How?”
Vanessa looked toward the observation glass.
“Someone else inside Vincent’s house was giving Matteo information.”
My skin prickled.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you suspect someone.”
She hesitated.
“Vincent’s security chief.”
“Gabriel?”
She nodded.
Gabriel Russo had guarded our house for six years.
He knew when I went shopping.
When Vincent traveled.
When I slept.
Vanessa continued:
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The morning of your accident, Matteo called me furious.”
“Why?”
“He said the plan had changed.”
My throat tightened.
“What plan?”
“He said, ‘If Claire survives, Vincent can never learn why she was chosen.’”
I stared at her.
“Chosen for what?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
Then she pulled something from the evidence envelope beside her.
A photocopy.
An old newspaper clipping.
A photograph of my mother when she was twenty-four.
Standing beside Vincent’s late father.
My hands went cold.
May you like
Vanessa whispered:
“Claire, Matteo knew your family long before you married Vincent.”
