Chapter 4

Luca had been the one who insisted on sharing his location.

At first, I had refused.

“I don’t need to know where you are every second,” I told him. “I trust you.”

He had smiled and held out his hand for my phone.

“Then think of it as insurance.”

I had handed it over. He installed the app on both phones, linked our accounts, and showed me how to find him.

“If something happens, you won’t have to wait for one of my men to decide what you’re allowed to know. You can find me yourself.”

Given the life we lived, it had been a reasonable argument.

I agreed to leave it on.

I had even been quietly proud that I never checked it. I thought we had a marriage that didn’t require tracking routes or questioning late arrivals.

Now I was about to use it to find the woman he was sleeping with.

I drew a breath and tapped the screen.

The map took several seconds to load.

Then a green dot appeared, moving slowly along a road.

My father leaned closer.

“That’s him? Right now?”

I nodded.

For a moment, he watched the dot advance.

My mother was already reaching for her coat.

“Then let’s go.”

She picked up her bag with such force that the clasp struck the table.

“I want to see who he thought was worth doing this to you.”

My father rose without answering and headed for the door.

We followed him downstairs.

His driver started to step out when we reached the car, but my father held out his hand for the keys.

“I’ll drive.”

The man glanced at his face, then handed them over.

I climbed into the back. My mother sat beside my father, turning toward me as soon as we pulled out of the garage.

“Keep watching that thing.”

“I am.”

The dot moved toward a bridge out of Manhattan.

My mother shook her head.

“All those dinners. All that concern about whether you’d eaten.”

Her voice tightened.

“And meanwhile, he has another woman hiding in your home.”

I watched the screen.

“I thought he loved you,” she said. “I would have sworn to it.”

“So would I.”

That silenced her briefly.

Then she turned toward the windshield.

“I’ve spent my whole life around these families. I’ve watched men lie to their wives across dinner tables with their children sitting between them. I thought I could recognize it.”

My father kept his eyes on the road.

“If he wanted out of the marriage, he could have said so,” she continued. “He could have come to us. There would have been consequences, but at least you would have known where you stood.”

She looked back at me.

“Instead, he let you go on believing you were safe with him.”

Her eyes were red.

“If we find them together, he’s going to answer to me before anyone else.”

My father had worried about Luca’s enemies. My mother had worried about his ambition. She thought I would spend my life waiting for him to come home.

After his promise on their front step, she had begun treating him like a son.

Now she sat twisting a tissue between her fingers.

My father hadn’t spoken since we left.

In the rearview mirror, I could see the tension around his mouth. Once, he glanced down at the map on the dashboard, then returned his attention to the road.

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

After we crossed the bridge, Luca’s dot stopped moving.

I waited for it to move again.

It didn’t.

“He’s stopped,” I said.

“Where?”

I read out the street name.

My father’s hands shifted on the wheel.

“Dad?”

“I heard you.”

“Can you hurry?”

We kept driving. Eventually, he turned off the main road.

The houses grew farther apart. High hedges screened the properties, and security cameras watched the approaches from stone gateposts.

I kept looking between the map and the road.

Then I saw the Maserati.

“There.”

It was parked in front of a large stone house, beyond an open wrought-iron gate.

The driveway lights were on. So were several windows on the ground floor.

My father pulled over.

I barely waited for the car to stop before unfastening my seat belt.

Luca was inside.

After everything I had read, after the earring and the dinner and the kiss goodbye, he was behind that front door with her.

I got out and headed for the gate.

Behind me, neither car door opened. For a moment, I heard only my own footsteps.

My father reached me before I made it halfway up the drive.

“Dora.”

He stepped into my path.

I tried to move around him, but he caught my arm.

“Are you certain Luca brought her here?”

I looked at his hand, then at his face.

He had gone pale.

“The app says he’s here. His car is right there.”

“I can see the car.”

“Then why are you asking?”

His eyes moved past me toward the house.

Something was wrong.

Not anger. Not doubt. Recognition.

“Dad,” I said slowly, “do you know this place?”

He opened his mouth.

For a second, I thought he was going to tell me.

Then his jaw tightened, and he said nothing.

My mother hurried up the drive behind us.

She stopped beside him and looked at the house. Her lips parted, but the breath she drew sounded thin and strained.

“Mom?”

She turned to me.

The fury was gone from her face.

“Dora, we need to go home.”

I stared at her.

“What?”

“Come back to the car.”

“No.”

She glanced at my father.

He said nothing.

“Please,” she said. “Let’s leave.”

I looked from one to the other.

“You wanted to come here.”

“I know.”

“You said we had to find out who she was.”

My mother swallowed.

“I know what I said.”

“Then what changed?”

Neither of them answered.

I pointed toward the Maserati.

“He’s here. We followed him here. All I have to do is knock on the door.”

My mother caught my wrist.

“Don’t.”

The word came out so sharply that I stopped.

She seemed startled by her own voice. Her grip loosened, and when she spoke again, her voice was shaking.

“Sweetheart, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

“Let’s get in the car first.”

“No. Tell me here.”

Her eyes filled.

I had seen my mother face armed men without lowering her voice. I had watched her stand beside my father through threats that kept the guards awake all night.

Now she was looking at a front door as though she couldn’t bear to see it open.

“Dora, please,” she whispered. “Not here.”

My father stepped closer.

“Listen to your mother.”

I pulled my wrist free.

“You too?”

“We’re trying to protect you.”

“From what?”

He looked at the house again.

I waited.

He gave me nothing.

Before we reached the house, they had been ready to confront Luca beside me. Now they wanted me back in the car before I could speak to him.

They knew something about this house. Or the woman inside it.

I felt a fresh chill beneath the anger.

“Who lives here?”

My mother shook her head.

“Dora.”

“Who?”

“Please don’t do this.”

That frightened me more than any answer could have.

I stepped around my father.

He reached for me, but I pulled away and kept walking.

My mother called my name.

I heard my father following, heard him tell me to stop, but I was already climbing the front steps.

I needed to see.

I needed to know what could make my mother afraid to let me through that door.

At the door, I raised my hand and knocked.

Footsteps sounded almost immediately.

The lock turned.

Luca opened the door.

And behind him stood the woman.