Chapter 115 *
Zelda's face went pale. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"Lorenzo!" Viviana's voice was sharp. "What kind of question is that?"
"A fair one," Lorenzo said. He didn't look at his mother. Kept his eyes locked on Zelda.
"Of course I want Scarlett back," Zelda said. Her voice was shaking now. "She's my sister. I miss her."
"Do you?" Lorenzo asked.
"Yes!" Zelda's eyes were filling with tears. "How can you even ask me that?"
Lorenzo sat back in his chair. Crossed his arms. "Let me ask you something else then."
Zelda's hands were trembling. She set down her napkin.
"Do you remember that necklace?" Lorenzo asked. "The one father bought for Scarlett when she first came home?"
Zelda froze. Just for a second. But Lorenzo saw it.
"What necklace?" Viviana asked. She looked confused.
"The emerald one," Salvatore said. His voice was quiet. "I had it specially made. Cost forty thousand dollars."
He set down his coffee cup. "It was supposed to welcome Scarlett back to the family. Show her she belonged here."
Nico spoke up. "I remember that. The butler put it in her room, right?"
"Michael placed the jewelry box on Scarlett's dresser himself," Lorenzo said. His eyes never left Zelda's face. "The night before her first family dinner."
"But it disappeared," Salvatore said. His brow furrowed. "The next day it was gone."
"We all thought Scarlett took it and didn't say thank you," Lorenzo continued. "I remember being upset about that."
"But Scarlett said she never received it."
Zelda reached for her coffee cup. Her hand was shaking so badly the cup rattled against the saucer.
"So we started looking," Lorenzo said. "Everyone searched. Asked questions."
He paused. Let the silence stretch out.
"And you, Zelda. You said you'd never seen it. Never even knew about it."
Zelda nodded. Her throat moved when she swallowed. "I... I didn't."
"That's strange." Lorenzo's voice was conversational now. "Because Michael found the jewelry box. In the garbage pile behind the estate."
Zelda's coffee cup slipped from her fingers.
It hit the table. Shattered. Hot liquid splashed everywhere.
"Oh God!" Zelda jumped up. Coffee was all over her dress. All over the white tablecloth.
"I'm so sorry!" Her voice was high. "I didn't mean—"
"Sit down," Lorenzo said.
Zelda looked at him. Her eyes were wide. Frightened.
"Sit. Down."
She sat. Slowly. Her hands were still shaking.
Viviana was already dabbing at the spill with napkins. "It's fine, sweetheart. Accidents happen."
"Michael told me something interesting," Lorenzo continued. Like nothing had happened. "He said he saw you. Holding the jewelry box. The day it went missing."
"That's not—" Zelda started.
"Are you calling Michael a liar?" Lorenzo's voice sharpened.
"No! I just—" Zelda was crying now. Real tears streaming down her face. "I don't remember. Maybe I saw it somewhere and moved it. I don't know."
"You moved a forty-thousand-dollar necklace to the garbage pile?" Lorenzo asked. "And forgot about it?"
"Lorenzo, that's enough." Viviana's voice rose. "Can't you see you're upsetting her?"
"I'm asking a simple question," Lorenzo said. "Why did you throw away Scarlett's necklace?"
"I didn't!" Zelda was sobbing now. "I swear I didn't! Maybe I moved the box and someone else threw it away. I don't know!"
"Lorenzo." Salvatore's voice carried a warning. "You're bullying your sister."
"Am I?" Lorenzo looked at Salvatore. "Or am I trying to figure out why Scarlett's welcome gift ended up in the trash?"
"It was a misunderstanding," Viviana said. Her arm was around Zelda now. Protective. "An accident. Stop making it sound like some kind of conspiracy."
"Was it an accident?" Lorenzo turned back to Zelda. "Or did you not want Scarlett to have it?"
"How can you say that?" Zelda's voice broke. "How can you accuse me of something so horrible?"
"I'm not accusing," Lorenzo said. "I'm asking. There's a difference."
He leaned forward. Rested his elbows on the table.
"I'm going to give you one chance," he said quietly. "One. You tell me the truth right now, and maybe—maybe—I can forgive it."
He paused. "But if you keep lying? If I have to find out the truth myself?" His voice hardened. "I won't be so forgiving."
Zelda lifted her head. Her face was blotchy. Red. Covered in tears.
"I don't know what you want me to say," she whispered.
Lorenzo stared at her for a long moment.
Then he stood up. Straightened his jacket.
"That's what I thought."
He walked toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Salvatore demanded.
"I've lost my appetite," Lorenzo said. He didn't look back.
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
Zelda stayed at the table for exactly thirty seconds after Lorenzo left.
Then she stood up. Mumbled something about changing her coffee-stained dress. Rushed out of the dining room.
She made it to her bedroom. Locked the door behind her.
Only then did she let herself collapse.
She sat on the floor. Her back against the door. Her whole body was shaking.
Lorenzo knows.
The thought kept repeating in her head. Like a hammer hitting the same spot over and over.
He knows about the necklace. He knows I've been sabotaging Scarlett.
Her breathing was getting faster. Shorter. Like she couldn't get enough air.
How does he know? Did Scarlett tell him? Did she figure it out and go running to Lorenzo?
That had to be it. Scarlett must have put the pieces together. Must have realized what Zelda had been doing all these months.
And now Lorenzo was taking her side. Defending her. Questioning Zelda like she was some kind of criminal.
The tears came harder now. Not the practiced crying from the dining room. Real tears. Hot and angry.
It wasn't fair.
Before Scarlett showed up, Zelda was the only Romano princess. The beloved daughter. The one everyone doted on.
Lorenzo used to call her his little sister. Used to bring her gifts from his business trips. Used to smile when she walked into a room.
Now? Now he looked at her like she was something dirty. Something he didn't want to touch.
All because of Scarlett. That country girl. That nobody who'd shown up out of nowhere and stolen everything that should have been Zelda's.
And now Lorenzo was defending her. Actually yelling at Zelda. At the dinner table. In front of everyone.
For that bitch.
Zelda's hands curled into fists. Her nails dug into her palms.
This was all Scarlett's fault. All of it.
If she'd just stayed in Montana where she belonged, none of this would have happened.
Zelda would still be the favorite. Still be loved. Still be safe.
But no. Scarlett had to come back. Had to ruin everything.
Well. Zelda wasn't going to let her win.
Lorenzo might suspect. Might even know some things. But he didn't have proof. Not real proof.
And as long as Zelda kept denying it, kept playing the victim, there was nothing he could do.
She stood up. Walked to her bathroom. Splashed cold water on her face.
Looked at herself in the mirror.
Her eyes were red. Puffy. Her face was blotchy.
She looked exactly like a girl who'd been wrongly accused. Who'd been bullied by her own brother.
This wasn't over.
Lorenzo sat in his car. Engine off. Hands gripping the steering wheel.
He'd left the estate. Couldn't stand being in that house for one more second.
Couldn't stand watching Zelda cry and play victim. Couldn't stand watching his mother defend her. Couldn't stand watching his father look at him like he was the problem.
He let out a long breath. Leaned his head back against the seat.
The suspicion had been there for weeks now. Growing. Getting stronger every time Zelda opened her mouth.
But this morning confirmed it.
He needed to know what else Zelda had done. To expose a sweet, innocent little sister.