“And you?” Emma asked coldly. She was having difficulty absorbing all this. The only thing that seemed clear and evident was Vera Shaw’s mad hatred. “Did you take up with him? Did you mean anything to him? Or is all of this some fiction you’ve created in your head because you know deep down you never meant anything to Michael Montand, and that you only hold Vanni’s affections because of loyalty to his mother?”

“Laurel wasn’t his mother,” Vera shrieked. “Haven’t you been listening? And Michael’s and my relationship was above sex. He seduced women with ease. His conquests meant nothing to him, just like you mean nothing to Vanni. Sleeping with all those women—with that bitch Cristina—didn’t earn women the respect Michael gave me.”

Emma shook her head, staring at the woman in mounting wariness. She felt nauseated. All she wanted at that moment was to be away from Vera Shaw. She was a twisted, hateful woman who clearly saw Emma as some kind of threat to her ordered but delusional world. She’d somehow morphed Vanni into some bizarre mixture of Michael Montand and the son she’d never had with him—the man she’d desired above all else.

“I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this . . . this story, but I think I should be going. You don’t seem—” Right in the head, Emma stopped herself from saying at the last minute. “Well,” she finished with a glare. She started toward the door.

“I have proof!”

Emma was caught off guard when Vera shoved the piece of paper in front of her chest. She hauled up short and found herself staring at what appeared to be an official document.

It was Vanni’s birth certificate. Vera snapped away the top document, revealing the one beneath it. She shoved both pieces of paper closer to Emma’s face. “And here is Adrian’s birth certificate as well. You see? Who does it say Vanni’s mother is? Who does it say is Adrian’s? Cristina Elizabeth Carboni!” she spat, spraying some saliva into Emma’s face. “I found these after she died, hidden away at the bottom of one of her shoeboxes when I went through her closet to see what she’d left you! That whore would put something so sacred in such a place. That’s how much Adrian and Vanni meant to her. Only after she started to age a little, only when she began to suspect she couldn’t remain the prima donna of the European social circuit forever did she finally listen to Michael. After Laurel died, he begged her again to marry him. He was blind with lust when it came to Cristina. She finally agreed, probably seeing nothing better in her future, and came. You should have seen it!” Vera laughed. “You’ve never seen a woman less suited to be a mother. Vanni hated her from the first, and Cristina couldn’t stand the sight of him. What do you think it would do to Vanni to find out Cristina was his mother?” Vera shouted.

Emma staggered back as if she’d been shoved, the force of Vera’s vitriolic excitement was so great.

“He hates her with a white-hot passion. Cristina killed Adrian—her own son, Vanni’s twin. He’s never loved anyone like he did his brother. Vanni has never—will never—forgive Cristina for that, and yet it’s her cold, selfish blood that runs in his veins! What do you think it would do to him?” she demanded again.

“It would kill him,” Emma gasped, too shocked and set off balance to say anything but the truth.

Vera’s smile was an ugly thing. “Perhaps he deserves to know the truth.”

“No,” Emma said forcefully, anger fortifying her. She stepped toward Vera, meeting her stare in preparation to fight. “You say you care about him. You know very well finding out Cristina was his real mother would . . . unhinge him. Do you really want that for him?”

“No,” Vera said, her chin going up. “Do you?”

Emma inhaled slowly, reading the truth in the woman’s glittering eyes. “Just tell me what you’re planning,” she bit out angrily.

“I’ll keep the secret until my grave. If you promise never to see or speak to Vanni again.”

The refrigerator hummed on in the tense, horrible silence that followed.

“You must realize this thing with Vanni won’t last forever,” Vera reasoned. “How long do you have before this affair between the two of you is over? Weeks? Days? All I’m asking—”

“All you’re doing is blackmailing me,” Emma interrupted coldly. A fury started to build in the pit of her belly, melting her icy shock over the bizarre unfolding of events. “You know as well as anyone how much Vanni has suffered. You claim to care about him. Yet you would make him suffer in this way, out of spite toward me?”

“You claim to care about him as well,” Vera challenged, showing her teeth. “Would you make him suffer, just so that you can satisfy your lust for a few more nights? Don’t try to tell me Vanni has promised you more. I know him. He’s unfailingly honest when it comes to what he’ll give a woman. Well . . . has he promised you more? Has he professed any other emotion but lust for you?”

Emma refused to answer, but perhaps Vera saw the flash of doubt in her eyes. Vera smiled.

“I didn’t think so,” Vera said in a low, victorious tone. “You’ll have to tell him that you decided to end it now, since you know it’ll end sometime soon, anyway. A girl like you, so sweet and fragile . . . it’d pain you too much to keep things going until they inevitably end.”

Emma snarled in a very unfragile manner and lunged toward the disgusting woman. Vera’s eyes widened in momentary alarm.

“How do I know you won’t tell him anyway, even if I agree to this? How do I know you won’t harm him in another way, you crazy bitch?” Emma demanded.

For a few seconds, Vera looked like she was ready to resort to violence, but Emma was ready. She waited. Vera inhaled, regaining her composure.

“He’s like a son to me,” Vera said. “I’ve never done anything to harm him. Has he ever mentioned that I have?”

“No,” Emma said. “He doesn’t think about you much at all, let alone talk about you.”

Her arm went up instinctively, blocking Vera’s striking hand. She gripped her wrist tight when Vera tried to jerk it away. Vera’s attempted blow at her face had brought her closer. Emma stared unblinkingly into Vera Shaw’s eyes while her heartbeat roared in her ears. A memory came back to her in that harrowing moment: Niki Dellis staring at her, sadness and concern in his dark eyes as he spoke of Vanni. Sometimes I think if something else horrible happened to him, it’d end him.

She couldn’t bear the idea of him learning that Cristina was his real mother. Just imagining his pain felt as if it took her breath away.

“Promise me you won’t tell him about Cristina,” Emma grated out. “Promise me you won’t do anything to harm him.”

“I promise it easily,” Vera hissed. “If you promise to walk away now.”

Emma shoved the other woman back with force. Vera stumbled back, looking outraged. She started to lunge toward Emma again, but suddenly came up short when their stares met.

“I know someone who will keep an eye on you,” Emma said fiercely, channeling all of her fury into her gaze. “If I hear you’ve run to Vanni with this information, I’ll find out. I’ll tell Vanni what you did, just in case you convince him that you were only telling him for his own good.”

Vera laughed. “Are you referring to my stupid sister-in-law, Michelle? Or maybe my annoying brother, Dean? Yes. I hear you’ve become quite the darling with them as well. Fine. Check on Vanni’s well-being, if need be. But if you intrude too far into his life again, all bets are off. Do you understand me?”

“Unfortunately, all too well. You’re pitiful,” Emma said, casting a glance of cold disdain over the woman before she walked out of the kitchen.

Previously, Emma hadn’t allowed herself to imagine too greatly what it would be like when she eventually was forced to walk away from Vanni. Maybe it was best that she was doing it unexpectedly.