Page 63 of Brutal Husband

When Luca found me, he told me he had a criminal record and that there was a warrant out for his arrest that was making things a little difficult for him. He downplayed his conviction and was vague about the warrant, and because he got me out of my own troubles and charmed me so thoroughly, I said yes when he asked me so fucking sweetly if we could both be Nero Lombardi. I was so grateful to learn that I had some family in this world, and I think I made a huge mistake.

“Start talking, Luca. Give me a reason to continue with this charade, because after talking with Paul Shields and hearing the disgusting things he had to say, right now, I don’t care about your money or having you as my family.”

Luca glares at me with his nostrils flaring and fury cording his neck muscles. He smooths down his hair with both hands and flexes his head from side to side. “Fine. You asked for this.”

19

Nero

Rieta has sunk down onto the white leather sofa as I’ve been speaking. I’m perched on the edge of Luca’s desk, gripping it with both hands, wondering how she’s going to react now that she knows the truth. I did all of this because I fell in love with her, but then she went and murdered my brother. I shouldn’t give a damn about whether she’s angry with me or not.

“Say something,” I growl.

Rieta is hugging herself like she’s cold, and her body is trembling. “So that’s why my fiancé acted hot and cold before the wedding and then completely shut down after we were married. You were switching back and forth. I ended up married to the cold man who never seemed to like me. Why him? What happened to you?”

I’m not ready for that conversation, and I’ve talked enough. I shake my head. “No, it’s your turn. Tell me why you killed mybrother, and don’t try and say it was self-defense. The back of his head was caved in.”

Rieta looks fearfully at me, but she doesn’t say a word.

I put a gun in the back of my waistband before we left the house, and now I take it out and point it at her. “I said, start fucking talking.”

I’m pointing a gun at the woman I love. I’m threatening her, and I’m not even sorry.

“You’re right, it wasn’t self-defense,” she admits. “I followed your brother to his office. I was drunk, and there was only one thought in my head. To tell my husband that I wanted a divorce.” Rieta gazes at the hair clip in her hand, and tears well up in her eyes. “If only I’d gone earlier, I might have been there in time to save her. Little girls who are taken by men…they don’t live long, do they? It’s stupid to hope, but do you think there’s any chance that she’s still alive?”

I frown in confusion. “What are you talking about, Rieta?”

She holds up the barrette. “While my husband and I were arguing in this office, I found this barrette on the floor. It was under this sofa, laying just out of view, unless you’re so upset that you’re pacing around this room, and you go and stand in that corner.” She points to her left where a ficus is growing in a pot. “This barrette has no place at all being in my husband’s office. I knew who it belonged to right away. I’ve seen it plenty of times before.”

She digs out her phone, presses a few buttons, and then shows me a news headline and a photo.

Local girl missing.The picture is of a middle-grader or thereabouts; a girl with long, straight hair and a hundred-watt smile, her crooked teeth begging for braces but her sweetness undiminished.

“Harriet is my neighbors’ daughter. I know this is her hair barrette I found. You can see it in that photo. I confronted myhusband about her, shoving the clip in his face and shouting about the sex predator at our wedding. Demanding to know if he knew anything about Harriet’s disappearance and where she was.” Rieta’s face crumples as she gazes around the room. “I keep picturing her here. Was she scared? Did he tie her up and gag her, or did he feed her a story about her mom coming to get her and placate her with a soda?”

I ordered Rieta to tell me what happened to my brother. I should order her to get back on track, but the horrible notion that it’s all connected washes over me.

“I thought my husband was going to explain everything, but then he hit me with that statue.” She points at a heavy-looking brass ornament standing on the glass cabinet. “The barrette flew out of my hand, and I ran. I had to get away from him. There was a look in his eyes that I’d never seen before that told me he wanted me dead. I got back into my car and somehow drove home. It was a stupid thing to do. I should have gone to a hospital or to the police, but I was panicking. I ran right through the house and into the back garden and hid in the shed. Nero searched for me among the bushes, and I knew it was either him or me. I wasn’t going to die when I was the only one apart from him who knew that clue about Harriet. I picked up the shovel and came out of the shed. It was dark and raining. He didn’t hear me creep up on him…”

That’s when she bashed my brother over the head with the shovel. With the same implement that she murdered him with, she dug a hole and buried his body.

“I washed myself off with the hose,” Rieta continues in a trembling voice. “I drove his car somewhere to dump it, I can’t remember where, and then I walked home and got into bed. When I awoke in the morning, my head hurt worse than it ever had before. I couldn’t remember anything from when I arrived at Nero’s office.”

Rieta has been staring at her hands for most of this speech, but now she lifts her huge, luminous eyes to mine.

“You don’t have to believe me. I know you won’t take his killer’s side, so just finish me. If I’m right about Nero taking Harriet, then I was living with a monster, and I didn’t even know it. I should have known. I could have saved her if I wasn’t such a sad, pathetic drunk. I’ve made such a mess of everything, so just kill me, please. I’m begging you. Kill me. Just promise me that after I’m dead, you’ll go to the police about Harriet and tell them what I told you. Her parents don’t deserve to suffer any longer without knowing what happened to her.”

Rieta stands up and takes hold of the gun I’m pointing at her. She places the barrel between her breasts, right over her heart.

“Please do it, Nero. I’ve made a mess of my life, and I’m a murderer as well. I don’t deserve to—” Rieta breaks off with a gasp. She flinches like she’s been hit with a terrible realization, and she lets go of the gun. Her hands flutter over her stomach before she guiltily drops them to her sides.

I lower the gun, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Why did you just touch yourself like that?”

“What? I didn’t,” she says quickly.

“Do you think I’m an idiot? I know what I saw.” I shove the gun into the back of my pants where she won’t be able to grab it again. “Are you pregnant?”

“I—I—” Rieta stammers, her huge eyes terrified.

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