Chapter 5: What Marco Knew
He was in the kitchen when Luca found him — sitting at the long prep table with a glass of water, still in his driving coat.
Rosa had gone home.
The kitchen staff had all been dismissed after the guests left.
It was just Marco, the overhead lights, and the quiet hum of the refrigerator.
I waited in the hall with Teresa's wheelchair.
Luca had not asked me to.
I stayed because Teresa would not let go of my hand.
The kitchen door was ajar.
"I need to know who made the reservation," Luca said.
A long pause.
"Mr.
Moretti—"
"Don't."
Another pause.
"It was made under a name I don't recognize," Marco said.
"She gave me an address on the North Shore.
Not a hotel.
A house."
"Whose house?"
"I don't know.
I was told to bring Sophie there and wait for further instruction."
"Further instruction from whom?"
Silence.
"Marco."
"From a man named Callum Reid.
He called me directly three days ago."
The name meant nothing to me.
But Teresa's hand tightened around mine.
I looked down at her.
Her eyes were closed.
Her lips moved without sound.
I leaned in close.
"Mrs.
Moretti.
Do you know that name?"
She opened her eyes.
One squeeze.
Yes.
"Who is he?"
She struggled.
Her breathing shortened with the effort.
"Ex..." she whispered.
"Luca's...
ex..."
She couldn't finish.
But I understood enough.
Back in the kitchen, Luca's voice had gone very quiet.
"How long have you been in contact with Reid?"
"Six weeks.
She approached me after the garden party.
Said it was a business arrangement.
She said you already knew."
"I did not know."
"I understand that now, sir."
"What else were you asked to do?"
A longer silence this time.
"The cameras," Marco said finally.
"On the east corridor.
She asked me to disable them on the nights she was here alone with Mrs.
Moretti."
The corridor outside Teresa's room.
I thought of all the evenings I had sat with Teresa after her dinner, the hallway quiet and dark, the small night-light casting shadows under the door.
The evenings Vanessa had sent me to the lower kitchen for supplies that turned out to be exactly where they always were.
The minutes I had been gone.
Teresa's hand was shaking in mine now.
I sat down on the floor beside her wheelchair and held it with both of mine.
"You're safe," I whispered.
"I'm right here."
In the kitchen, a chair moved.
"I want everything," Luca said.
"Every message.
Every call.
Every instruction she gave you.
I want it on this table within the hour."
"Yes, sir."
"And Marco." A pause.
"If there is anything else you have not told me, and I find it later from another source, this conversation will not have happened.
Do you understand me?"
"Yes."
Luca came back into the hallway.
He saw me on the floor.
He saw Teresa.
He crouched down so he was level with his mother.
"Mom.
Callum Reid.
Is he dangerous?"
Teresa held his gaze.
One squeeze.
"Is Sophie in danger tonight?"
Teresa held his gaze again.
This time she did not squeeze at all.
She shook her head slowly.
Left.
Right.
"Because of Hannah?" he said.
Teresa looked at me.
Then at her son.
Two squeezes.
Luca stood.
He looked at me for a moment without speaking.
Then he said, "I need to make two phone calls.
Stay with her."
"I'm not going anywhere," I said.
He almost smiled.
It was the smallest thing.
Gone before I was sure I had seen it.
Then his phone was already at his ear as he walked toward the study.
I stayed on the floor beside Teresa's wheelchair until his voice disappeared down the hall.
Then Teresa patted the top of my head.
Once.
May you like
Very gently.
Like a woman who had raised children and knew exactly what that gesture meant.
