Chapter 4

In the archive room of Capell Antique Auction House’s New York branch, Michael flipped through buyer records from three years ago. I floated beside him, sitting in the empty chair at his side.

This scene had happened once before.

Three years ago, at Milan’s annual antique auction. I had fallen in love with the blue stone necklace at first sight. A lot of people had wanted it. Michael held my hand through the bidding, raising the paddle again and again until he finally won it at a staggering price. When the hammer fell, he lowered his head and whispered against my ear, “My Sophia deserves the best of everything.”

Back then, I thought I was the happiest woman in the world.

Now, Michael stared at the screen until his eyes grew tired. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. His trusted man saw how pale he looked and quickly poured him a glass of water, “Don, let me look through it. You haven’t rested for days. Your body can’t take much more.”

Michael raised a hand and refused. His voice was hoarse: “You don’t know enough about the victim. Just take notes. If I find anyone suspicious, I’ll tell you.”

Floating above them, I found his words bitterly ironic. You know enough? If you really knew me, you would have recognized that the dismembered woman was the wife you hated.

Michael swiped through the tablet page by page. His eyes were sharp, scanning every buyer’s information.

The page count in the corner kept shrinking. My heart rose into my throat. Just a few more pages. One more swipe, maybe two. He would see my name. He would see his. The truth would come out.

But then his phone rang.

His finger froze on the screen. Bella’s name flashed across the display.

I dropped beside his knee and pointed frantically at the tablet. Michael. Just one more swipe. Please. You’re almost there.

I even knelt on the floor and begged him. But he could not hear me. He could not see me.

Michael answered the phone without hesitation. Bella’s sobbing voice came through, frantic and broken: “Michael, my belly hurts. I slipped just now. Can you come back? I’m so scared…”

My clasped hands fell weakly from my chest. The hope in me turned, inch by inch, into despair.

I already knew how this would end.

“Stay where you are. Don’t move. I’m coming right now.” His voice filled with panic.

After hanging up, he shoved the tablet into the young enforcer’s hands, “Keep checking. Verify any suspicious names and report them to Tom. I have something to handle. Go back on your own.”

Then he rushed out of the archive room without looking back. He even forgot his coat.

The young enforcer took the tablet and started over from the beginning.

He checked each page carefully. Finally, he reached the right one. The auction record was clear. Lot 27. Sicilian blue stone necklace. Buyer: Michael Corleone and Sophia. Final price: xxxx euros.

My name, my age, and the details of the victim found at Long Island all matched.

Without hesitation, Michael’s man wrote my name down on the suspect list.

I let out a long breath and floated to his side. I gently patted his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Then I chased after Michael. I wanted to see just how desperate he could be for Bella.

By the time I reached Bella’s house, Michael was carrying her out. The panic on his face was something I had never seen before. Not even when my father died.

I followed them into the car. After Michael placed Bella in the passenger seat, she said apologetically, “I’m sorry. Mrs. Smith asked for the day off, and I had no one else to call. That’s why I called you.”

“No. She’s lying!” I leaned close to Michael’s ear and shouted.

I had clearly seen someone behind the curtains on the second floor. It was Mrs. Smith. She had never left. Bella had faked everything to lure Michael back.

But Michael only stroked Bella’s hair, “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. I’m the one who didn’t take good enough care of you.”

Of course. He had never believed me anyway.