CHAPTER 10
By late afternoon, the Moretti estate had become unusually quiet.
Elara stood before the tall mirror in her bedroom while a maid fastened the last hook at the back of her gown.
The dress was simple compared with the extravagant clothes she had seen in Bellacorte's photographs.
Deep green silk followed the natural lines of her figure without making her look like she had dressed for anyone's approval.
She studied her reflection.
The woman staring back at her was still the same woman who had buried her father days ago.
But she no longer looked as lost.
Her long dark-brown hair fell over one shoulder. Her gray-green eyes were steady. The grief remained, but something stronger now lived beneath it.
Determination.
The maid stepped away.
"Perfect, Miss Vesperi."
Elara gave a small nod.
"Thank you."
She heard a knock.
Before she could answer, Luca's voice came through the door.
"Are you ready?"
"Almost."
"Should I warn the others?"
"About what?"
"That you're going to make every woman in the ballroom hate you."
Elara opened the door.
Luca stood outside in a black suit, one hand resting against the frame. His dark auburn hair was neatly arranged, and his blue eyes moved over her before his usual smile appeared.
"Well," he said.
Elara raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
"I had a clever remark prepared."
"And?"
"I've forgotten it."
She laughed softly.
"You seem to forget a lot around me."
"Only important things."
Footsteps approached.
Dante appeared at the end of the corridor.
His gaze landed on Elara.
He stopped.
Luca noticed.
"So much for my warning."
Dante ignored him.
"You look beautiful."
Elara wasn't prepared for the simple honesty in his voice.
"Thank you."
Dante cleared his throat.
"We should go."
Luca grinned.
"Excellent recovery."
Dante gave him a warning look.
Then Alessandro appeared.
He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his dark hair combed back, his pale gray eyes immediately finding Elara.
He said nothing.
Elara waited.
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
"Then why are you staring?"
"I'm not."
Luca laughed.
"You absolutely are."
Alessandro gave him a cold look.
Luca lifted his hands.
"I'll be quiet."
Dante looked at Elara again.
"Tonight, everyone will be watching you."
"Then they can watch."
A faint smile touched Dante's mouth.
"That's the spirit."
Luca adjusted his cuff.
"Half the people in that room already know your name."
"Because of my father?"
"Because of your father," Luca said, "and because you're walking in beside us."
Elara glanced at the three men.
"And what will they think?"
"Whatever they want," Alessandro said.
She studied him.
"And what do you want them to assume?"
Silence.
For once, Alessandro had no immediate answer.
Elara felt warmth creep into her cheeks and turned away.
"We should go."
They walked downstairs together.
The house felt different tonight. Perhaps it was because Elara knew she could leave if she wanted. Perhaps it was because she had chosen to stay.
Either way, she no longer felt like a prisoner walking through someone else's home.
At the front entrance, Alessandro offered his arm.
She accepted.
Dante opened the door.
Cool evening air swept inside.
They stepped toward the waiting cars.
Luca moved close enough to speak quietly.
"Whatever happens tonight, don't accept a drink from anyone you don't know."
Elara glanced at him.
"Should I be worried?"
His smile disappeared.
"Very."
She looked toward the glittering lights of Bellacorte below the hill.
Then she stepped into the car.
Tonight, she was going to enter their world.
And she had a feeling it was waiting for her.
The Valcieri residence rose above Bellacorte's harbor like a palace from another age.
Tall windows spilled golden light onto the courtyard. Carriages and expensive automobiles arrived one after another, carrying people whose family names carried more weight than most fortunes.
Inside, crystal chandeliers illuminated the ballroom.
Music floated beneath painted ceilings.
Men in dark evening clothes stood in small groups, speaking quietly.
Women in elegant gowns moved from one conversation to another.
Everyone smiled.
Everyone watched.
Elara understood immediately.
This was another kind of battlefield.
The moment she entered with Alessandro, Dante, and Luca, conversation changed around them.
A woman near the staircase whispered something to her companion.
The companion looked directly at Elara.
"Vesperi."
"That's Matteo's daughter."
"I thought she lived outside Bellacorte."
"So did I."
"And she's with all three of them."
The last sentence carried farther than the others.
Elara heard it.
She kept walking.
Alessandro's arm remained beneath her hand.
Dante walked on her other side.
Luca followed with an expression suggesting he found the entire room mildly amusing.
"You knew this would happen," Elara murmured.
"Of course," Luca said.
"And you didn't warn me?"
"I did."
"You said people would know my name."
"I didn't say they would be fascinated by it."
Dante leaned closer.
"They're fascinated because you're standing with us."
Elara glanced at him.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
She smiled despite herself.
Across the ballroom, several women approached Alessandro.
One greeted him warmly.
Another touched his arm while speaking.
Elara looked away.
Luca noticed.
"Jealous?"
"No."
"That's disappointing."
Dante heard him.
"Keep talking, Luca."
Luca's grin widened.
Elara almost laughed.
Then the room quieted slightly.
Serafina Valcieri descended the grand staircase.
She wore a dark wine-colored gown that made her chestnut hair appear almost copper beneath the chandeliers. Her hazel eyes moved through the room with the confidence of someone who had never questioned whether she belonged there.
She reached them.
"Miss Vesperi."
Her smile was flawless.
"I'm pleased you came."
Elara returned the greeting.
"I wanted answers."
Serafina's smile deepened.
"Then perhaps tonight will be useful."
Her eyes moved to Alessandro.
Then Dante.
Then Luca.
"You've brought quite an escort."
"They insisted."
Dante muttered, "Not exactly."
Serafina heard him.
Her smile did not change.
But something sharpened in her eyes.
"How charming."
She turned back to Elara.
"Would you walk with me?"
Alessandro's posture tightened.
Elara noticed.
She gave him a small look.
"I'll be fine."
Serafina offered her arm.
Elara took it.
They moved away from the three men.
The farther they walked, the more Elara felt the weight of curious eyes following her.
Serafina leaned closer.
"I believe it's time we discussed your father."
Elara's smile disappeared.
"What do you know about him?"
Serafina looked toward the balcony doors.
"More than most."
"Then start talking."
Serafina smiled.
"Patience, Miss Vesperi."
Elara had learned one thing about Bellacorte.
People who asked for patience usually had something they wanted to hide.
The balcony overlooked the harbor.
Below, lights shimmered across the dark water, while music from the ballroom drifted through the open doors.
Serafina rested one hand on the stone railing.
"You have your father's eyes."
Elara remained standing.
"You knew him."
"Yes."
"How well?"
Serafina considered the question.
"Well enough to know when he was afraid."
Elara's chest tightened.
"My father wasn't afraid of much."
"No," Serafina said. "He wasn't."
She looked toward the harbor.
"That made what happened later even more troubling."
Elara stepped closer.
"What happened?"
"Your father began asking questions."
"About the three families?"
"About the alliance between them."
Elara waited.
Serafina continued.
"He believed someone had betrayed the original agreement."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
Elara gave a humorless smile.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I expect nothing from you."
"You knew my father. You knew what he was investigating. Yet you claim you don't know who betrayed him?"
Serafina's expression remained calm.
"Knowing something and proving it are very different things."
Elara hated how reasonable the answer sounded.
"What was he planning to do?"
"Leave Bellacorte."
"With evidence?"
"Yes."
"What evidence?"
Serafina looked at her.
"That, I never saw."
Elara folded her arms.
"Then how do you know he had it?"
"Because Matteo told me."
The answer landed heavily.
Elara stared at her.
"You spoke to him shortly before he died?"
"Yes."
"How shortly?"
"Very."
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Serafina's eyes hardened for the first time.
"Because by then, I knew Bellacorte was not safe."
Elara searched her face.
"Was he murdered?"
Serafina didn't answer.
"Was he?"
"Your father knew the price of discovering too much."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
Serafina turned toward her.
"It isn't."
Elara's anger rose.
"Then stop speaking in riddles."
For the first time, Serafina looked impressed.
"You have his stubbornness."
"I have his daughterhood too. I deserve the truth."
Serafina smiled faintly.
"Perhaps."
She glanced through the ballroom doors.
"Do you trust the three men inside?"
Elara didn't answer.
Serafina continued.
"Men raised in Bellacorte learn early that truth is rarely more important than loyalty."
"Then perhaps that's why I'm asking questions."
Serafina studied her.
"You are more like your father than you realize."
Elara took another step forward.
"Did he trust you?"
A pause.
"Once."
The single word carried more weight than an explanation.
Elara's mind raced.
"What changed?"
"Bellacorte changed."
"That's not what I asked."
"No."
Serafina's voice softened.
"But it is the answer you need."
She moved toward the doors.
Elara stopped her.
"You said my father was not afraid of the three families."
Serafina looked over her shoulder.
"He wasn't."
"Then what was he afraid of?"
Her expression became unreadable.
"The person standing behind them."
Elara felt a chill move through her.
"Who?"
Serafina smiled.
"You'll have to find that yourself."
Then she returned to the ballroom.
Elara remained on the balcony for another moment.
Someone was standing behind the families.