Chapter 5 - The Dinner I Refused
Luca did not deny recognizing the room in the photograph.
That frightened me more than anything he could have said.
“My uncle’s office,” he told Naomi the next morning.
She looked between us.
“Then this goes to the detective immediately.”
It did.
There were questions I wanted answered at once and answers nobody could responsibly promise.
Was Callum being held there?
Had he gone willingly?
Was the photograph recent?
Was the threat intended for me, Luca, or both?
I hated how many dangerous things could hide inside uncertainty.
By afternoon, Luca’s uncle sent an invitation.
Dinner.
Family restaurant.
Private room.
The message was framed as an opportunity to clear up an unfortunate misunderstanding.
I looked at Luca.
“You’re not seriously considering taking me.”
“No.”
“Good.”
He hesitated.
“I was considering going myself.”
Naomi closed her folder.
“Then consider whether a conversation arranged by someone linked to threats is likely to improve your position.”
Luca leaned back.
For a man reputed to control half the waterfront, he was spending a remarkable amount of time being told no by women in ordinary office chairs.
He seemed to be learning from it.
The invitation was preserved.
Dinner did not happen.
Instead, Luca sat with his attorney and began reviewing old company records.
Not just the records involving my father.
His own.
That decision changed the shape of everything.
The next time I saw him, he looked exhausted.
“There are things you should know before this goes further.”
We were in a quiet café Naomi had suggested because it had excellent lighting, two exits, and no private dining rooms.
A romantic setting, under the circumstances.
Luca wrapped both hands around his untouched coffee.
“I took control of the family businesses after my father died. I kept the legitimate companies running. I also accepted money and influence from arrangements I knew weren’t clean.”
“How unclean?”
He looked down.
“Illegal gambling. Extortion payments disguised as consulting fees. People being pressured into agreements.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did you hurt people?”
“Yes.”
The word sat between us.
“Not the way the stories make it sound,” he continued. “But that doesn’t make the answer no.”
I stared at him.
A kinder lie would have been easier.
I appreciated that he had not offered one.
I also wished there had been no truth to tell.
“You helped me,” I said.
“I know.”
“That can’t buy my silence.”
“I’m not asking it to.”
“It can’t buy me.”
His expression changed.
“I know that too.”
Outside, rain traced the café window.
I thought of his arm in the elevator. The instant of relief. How easy it would be to turn that moment into proof of everything I wanted him to be.
But helping one frightened woman did not erase frightening others.
“I can’t fall in love with being the exception,” I said.
He went completely still.
It was the first time either of us had spoken the word.
I wished I could put it back.
Not because it was untrue.
Because it was becoming true.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Distance. Honesty. And for you to do whatever you’re planning because it’s right, not because you think I’ll be waiting at the end.”
He nodded slowly.
“All right.”
When we left, he did not reach for me.
For three days, we did not see each other.
During those days, I worked with Ruth, investigators, and Miriam to identify the objects photographed in my father’s negatives.
Some had resurfaced in private sales.
Some were still missing.
One had been insured through a company where Callum used to work.
That connection explained why he had become interested in my father’s notebooks.
It did not explain why he had stayed with me for two years.
I was not sure which possibility disgusted me more: that he had wanted me for access, or that he had genuinely believed love entitled him to access.
On the fourth evening, my phone rang.
Callum.
I let Naomi know before answering.
“Clara.”
His voice sounded wrong.
No charm.
No practiced warmth.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Are you safe?”
A laugh broke in his throat.
“I made a mistake.”
“You’ve made several.”
“Listen to me. There’s a ledger page missing from what your father hid. Enzo thinks you have it.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
May you like
Then his voice dropped.
“But I told him you did.”
