Chapter 2 - SOMEONE WAS WAITING IN ROME
I did not tell Alessandro everything.
That was my first mistake.
My second was thinking Derek's message was a bluff.
For the remaining four hours of the flight, I sat with Maya pressed against me and stared at the map on the seatback screen as our little aircraft icon crawled toward Italy.
Every mile felt like a countdown.
Alessandro returned to his seat.
He did not question me again.
But twice I caught Enzo watching the aisle.
By the time the cabin lights brightened for landing, Luca had slept almost three uninterrupted hours.
The flight attendants looked stunned.
I felt exhausted.
Maya ate half a bread roll and asked if Gabriella would have cartoons.
“I’m sure she will.”
“And spaghetti?”
“We’re in Italy.”
“So yes?”
I kissed her forehead.
“Yes.”
Maya smiled.
The bruise on her arm peeked from beneath her sleeve again.
My smile disappeared.
Derek had been escalating for months.
First came the insults.
Then the monitoring.
Then the accusations.
Then the grabbing.
The night everything changed, Maya had been carrying a plastic cup of apple juice through the living room.
Derek was yelling at me because I had refused to give him the password to an old savings account my grandmother left me.
Maya stepped between us.
“Stop yelling at Mommy.”
Derek turned.
He shoved her aside.
He later claimed he hadn't realized how hard he had pushed.
I remembered the sound of Maya hitting the coffee table.
I remembered her scream.
I remembered Derek looking down and saying the sentence that killed my marriage.
“She shouldn't have gotten in the way.”
That night, I waited until he slept.
Then I packed one suitcase.
I had taken photographs of Maya’s bruises.
I had saved screenshots of his messages.
I had even spoken to an attorney once.
But I had not gone to police.
Derek’s older brother was a sheriff's deputy.
His father had been a county judge for twenty-two years.
Everyone in our town knew the Bennett name.
And everyone knew mine only because I had married into it.
The plane landed at Leonardo da Vinci Airport shortly after seven in the morning.
Passengers applauded softly.
I almost cried from relief.
We had made it.
I turned on my phone.
Twenty-six missed calls.
Fourteen messages.
Most were from Derek.
One was from my mother.
Call your husband and stop this nonsense.
One came from an unknown number.
Police have been notified that you kidnapped Maya.
My hands went numb.
“Mommy?”
I locked the screen.
“Everything’s okay.”
The lie tasted bitter.
We joined the line to exit.
Alessandro was several passengers ahead.
Luca remained asleep against his chest.
As we passed, he turned.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
He handed me a business card.
Only a name and telephone number appeared on it.
No company.
No address.
“Call if you need anything.”
“I won't.”
His mouth moved almost into a smile.
“I suspected that would be your answer.”
“Thank you for helping with Maya earlier.”
“I did nothing.”
“You noticed.”
His gaze moved briefly toward her arm.
“Sometimes noticing is where everything begins.”
Then he disappeared through the jet bridge with Enzo and another man.
I slipped the card into my purse.
I planned to throw it away.
Twenty minutes later, I wished I had memorized the number.
At passport control, the officer scanned Maya’s passport.
His expression changed.
He scanned it again.
Then mine.
“Please wait.”
My stomach dropped.
“Is something wrong?”
“One moment.”
He called another officer.
They spoke quietly in Italian.
Maya tugged my hand.
“Mommy, I have to pee.”
“I know, baby.”
A woman in a dark uniform approached.
“Ms. Claire Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“Please come with us.”
Every instinct inside me screamed.
“Why?”
“There is an alert concerning your daughter.”
My knees almost buckled.
“What kind of alert?”
“We can discuss it privately.”
“I’m her mother.”
“We know.”
“Then tell me what's happening.”
Another officer appeared behind us.
Maya tightened her grip on my hand.
“Mommy?”
I crouched.
“It’s okay.”
The female officer's expression softened slightly.
“Your former husband filed an emergency custodial notice alleging that the child was removed from the United States without consent.”
“He shoved her into a table.”
The officer paused.
“He hurt her.”
“Do you have documentation?”
“Yes.”
“Then please come with us.”
I followed them through a side door.
We were taken to a small interview room.
Maya sat on my lap.
Two officers remained near the door.
A woman introduced herself as Inspector Bellini.
She spoke excellent English.
“Your husband reports that you left your marital residence with your daughter while he was sleeping.”
“Yes.”
“He states that you withdrew money.”
“My money.”
“He states you have a history of emotional instability.”
I laughed.
It sounded ugly.
“Of course he does.”
Bellini studied me.
“He has also stated that you stopped working as a nurse because of an incident involving a newborn.”
I froze.
That accusation was different.
“What?”
“He says you were dismissed after negligence contributed to a medical emergency.”
“No.”
I could barely speak.
“That is not what happened.”
“Were you employed at St. Agnes Medical Center?”
“Yes.”
“Did you leave following an investigation?”
My pulse hammered.
“I resigned.”
“Was there an investigation?”
I looked at Maya.
“Not because of anything I did.”
Bellini waited.
Six years of memories pressed against my ribs.
Room 312.
A mother named Caroline Keene.
A doctor ignoring my warning.
A newborn turning blue.
My repeated requests for help.
The doctor's mistake.
The hospital's lawyers.
The confidentiality agreement I refused to sign.
Derek telling me it would be easier if I resigned.
I had buried that life.
Now he was digging it up.
Bellini placed a document on the table.
“This was included in the request.”
I looked down.
A scanned disciplinary report appeared beneath the hospital letterhead.
My name was there.
My employee number.
My old signature.
But several sentences had been changed.
The document claimed I had failed to properly monitor the infant.
“That’s forged.”
Bellini's expression remained neutral.
“I never signed this.”
“Your signature is at the bottom.”
“He copied it.”
“Can you prove that?”
My mouth went dry.
I didn't know.
Maya leaned against me.
“Can I have water?”
The door opened before Bellini could answer.
A man in a dark blue suit entered.
He handed her identification.
They spoke rapidly in Italian.
Bellini looked surprised.
Then annoyed.
The man turned toward me.
“Ms. Bennett?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Marco Conti.”
“I’m an attorney.”
“I didn't call an attorney.”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Another voice came from the doorway.
“I did.”
Alessandro stood there.
He was no longer carrying Luca.
Three men stood behind him.
Inspector Bellini straightened.
“Mr. Moretti.”
There was something in the way she said his name.
Not admiration.
Recognition.
And caution.
Alessandro looked at me.
“I thought you said you wouldn't need anything.”
“I don't.”
Marco Conti glanced at the documents on the table.
“Respectfully, Ms. Bennett, right now you need a great deal.”
I stood.
“I’m not letting some stranger interfere with my custody case.”
Alessandro's eyes hardened.
“I watched your daughter flinch when a man raised his voice on the aircraft.”
My face burned.
“That is none of your business.”
“No.”
His gaze moved toward Maya.
“But a child being returned to the person who hurt her should be everybody's business.”
Inspector Bellini interrupted.
“We are not returning anyone anywhere at this moment.”
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means the matter must be reviewed.”
“How long?”
“I cannot say.”
“My cousin is waiting outside.”
Bellini checked something on her tablet.
“Gabriella Rossi?”
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“She was asked to report to airport police approximately ten minutes ago.”
“Why?”
Bellini hesitated.
My stomach twisted.
“What happened to Gabriella?”
A knock sounded.
Another officer entered.
He whispered into Bellini's ear.
Her face changed.
She looked at me.
“Ms. Bennett, your cousin was approached outside arrivals by a man claiming to be your husband’s representative.”
Ice moved through my veins.
“What man?”
“He attempted to persuade her to take Maya from you and deliver her to the American embassy.”
“What?”
“He has been detained.”
“Who is he?”
The officer handed Bellini a phone displaying a security photograph.
She turned it toward me.
The image was grainy.
But I knew the face.
I had seen him drinking beer in our kitchen.
I had seen him at Christmas.
I had watched him stand beside Derek at our wedding.
“That's Derek's brother.”
Bellini's eyes narrowed.
“The sheriff's deputy?”
I nodded.
Alessandro went completely still again.
Marco looked at him.
Something unspoken passed between them.
Bellini tapped the screen.
“There is another issue.”
“What now?”
“Your husband's brother was not alone.”
She swiped to another image.
A second man stood near the terminal doors.
Black coat.
Silver hair.
Thin face.
Alessandro stepped forward.
For the first time since I had met him, I saw genuine alarm.
“Where was this photograph taken?”
Bellini looked at him.
“Outside Terminal Three.”
“When?”
“Twenty-three minutes ago.”
“Find him.”
Bellini stiffened.
“You do not give orders here, Mr. Moretti.”
Alessandro pointed at the photograph.
“That man is Carlo Vitale.”
The room changed.
Even Bellini's face lost color.
I looked between them.
“Who is Carlo Vitale?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Then Marco turned toward me.
“He is someone you should never have had any reason to meet.”
My throat tightened.
“Why is he here?”
Marco looked at Alessandro.
Alessandro's eyes were on me.
“He didn't come here for you.”
He looked toward the hallway where Luca had been taken.
May you like
“He came for my son.”
And suddenly Derek Bennett was no longer the only dangerous man waiting for us in Rome.
