Emily listened carefully. She asked whether she could sit up more, whether the contractions were changing her cervix, and what warning signs would require immediate intervention. For the first time in days, the questions she asked were answered without someone rolling their eyes.
“Are you frightened?” Dr. Shah asked.
“Very.”
“That makes sense. We’ll tell you what we know and what we don’t know. You will be part of each decision.”
Emily closed her eyes briefly. She had forgotten how much comfort there could be in the word part.
In the evening, Dante requested permission to visit. Emily hesitated, then agreed to a short conversation with Naomi present.
He entered without his usual entourage. In his hands was a plain envelope containing the archived emails. He placed it on the table and stepped back.
“These are the messages Vanessa hid,” he said. “I haven’t changed them. Naomi can verify them.”
Emily looked at the envelope without touching it. “I sent those because I believed you wanted to know about our children.”
“I did want to know.”
“You wanted the idea of children. You didn’t want the inconvenience of a pregnant wife asking you to show up.”
He flinched. “That’s fair.”
“It isn’t fair. That’s why we’re here.”
Naomi watched without interrupting.
Dante drew a breath. “I had an affair with Vanessa. You already know that. I won’t call it a mistake made under pressure. I chose it. I let her make decisions in our home because it kept my life easy, and I dismissed you when you tried to tell me how she treated you.”
Emily stared at him. She had waited months for the truth, and now that he was giving it, she felt almost nothing but exhaustion.
“What do you want me to do with that confession?” she asked.
“Nothing. I wanted you to hear it from me without an excuse.”
“Then hear mine: I’m not coming back because you’re sorry.”
“I understand.”
“And I’m not letting you use the babies to force me into a conversation I don’t want.”
“I understand that too.”
He looked toward Naomi. “I’ve asked my people to cooperate with the police and preserve the household records. If Emily wants an independent examination of any business documents, I’ll provide access through counsel.”
Naomi said, “We will put requests in writing.”
“Of course.”
Dante was almost at the door when Emily spoke again.
“Why did Vanessa have my anniversary necklace?”
He stopped. In every explanation he had prepared, he had avoided the diamonds.
“Because I gave them to her,” he said finally. “I told myself it was a harmless loan for a gala. I knew what it meant. I did it anyway.”
Emily looked away. That answer hurt more than the rest because it was so small. He had not lost the necklace to a complicated conspiracy. He had handed a symbol of their marriage to another woman because he wanted to please her.
“Go,” Emily said.
He went.
On the way downstairs, his phone rang. Lucia had located an overlooked security clip from the mansion’s back corridor. Vincent Moretti had entered the house an hour before Emily’s fall, carrying a leather portfolio. The camera captured the portfolio’s label as he passed a lamp.
Harborlight Transfer — Final Authorization.
A second man had entered after him. Lucia sent Dante a still photograph.
The second man was Anthony Russo, Dante’s cousin and longtime chief financial officer.
