THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME PULL A BROKEN WOODEN BRIDGE FROM HIS ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER’S HANDS DURING HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE SMASHED IT BECAUSE SHE LOST,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE LITTLE GIRL WAS BLEEDING FROM ONE FINGER, CRYING OVER THE BROKEN PIECES, AND WHISPERING

Mrs. Gable’s face flushed a deep, ugly red. “That is a wicked lie! Mr. Moretti, are you going to let your daughter—”

“Let her speak,” Luca commanded, his voice echoing off the marble.

Clara looked at her father.

“Yesterday, when Miss Hannah was in the garden, I came back inside to get my glue,” Clara said, her voice steadying. “I walked past Aunt Vanessa’s room. Her door was open.”

The little girl took a deep breath.

“I saw Aunt Vanessa give Mrs. Gable a thick white envelope. Aunt Vanessa said, ‘Make sure the photos get to the old man. I want the maid gone by tonight.'”

Mrs. Gable gripped the stair railing. “She’s an imaginative child, Mr. Moretti. She’s confused.”

“I’m not confused,” Clara said.

Then the little girl reached into the pocket of her pale-yellow dress.

She pulled out a glittering, diamond tennis bracelet.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

It was Vanessa’s missing bracelet. The one she had accused me of stealing two days ago.

“I found this under Mrs. Gable’s mattress when I was hiding during hide-and-seek this morning,” Clara said, holding it out to her father.

Luca took the heavy diamond bracelet.

He looked at Mrs. Gable.

The older woman was trembling now. The strict, arrogant mask had completely shattered.

“You let Vanessa plant stolen jewelry in this house?” Luca asked softly. “You helped her frame a twenty-five-year-old girl who sends her money home to her crippled father?”

“She… she promised me a bonus,” Mrs. Gable stammered, backing up a step. “When she married you. She said Hannah was in the way.”

“In the way of what?” Luca demanded.

Mrs. Gable let out a bitter, ugly laugh.

She looked at Luca with pure venom.

“In the way of the truth,” Mrs. Gable spat. “Because Hannah asks too many questions about that locked room down the hall.”

Luca went perfectly still.

Frank Moretti closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Don’t do this, Martha,” Frank warned the housekeeper.

But Mrs. Gable wasn’t finished. She looked directly at Clara, her eyes flashing with cruel satisfaction.

“I did it because Vanessa pays me,” Mrs. Gable hissed. “And she pays me because she knows what you really did to your first wife, Mr. Moretti.”