Chapter 12: The House

Stefano's house was a white colonial on a street of white colonials, and every porch light on it was on.

I had picked out the curtains. I had stood in that front hall in a paper crown at my own bridal shower, with Bianca handing out mimosas.

A black SUV sat in the driveway with its trunk open.

Luca stopped the car behind it, and I was out before he turned off the engine.

The front door was ajar.

Stefano stood in the hall with a suitcase at his feet and a coat over his arm.

"Well," he said. "That was fast."

"Give it back."

"Give what back?"

"Two hundred sixty thousand dollars. And whatever else you took from your father's account tonight."

"It's mine, Valeria. It's in my name. You signed a prenup that says so." He smiled. "I read it before you did."

"Bianca read it with me."

"Bianca reads everything with everyone."

Behind him, someone moved on the stairs.

Bianca stood on the landing with a duffel bag over her shoulder. She was in jeans. Her stomach was flat.

She was not holding it, either.

She saw me looking and put the bag in front of her.

"You can't go to the airport tonight," I told Stefano. "Your father knows. The company knows. Seventy people watched my screen."

"My father will forgive me by Christmas. He always does."

"Not this time."

"He forgave me for the car I wrecked when I was nineteen," Stefano said. "He'll forgive me for this."

Luca had come in behind me. He stood against the door with his arms at his sides.

Stefano looked at him for the first time.

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