The doorbell echoed through the villa, and Penelope shifted on her feet.
Lucia grasped her hand, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. “We will figure this out.”
Penelope could only nod, then the door swung open, and Francesca stood in front of her.
“Come on inside. We have much to talk about.” Francesca gestured for them to enter, which they did, Lucia with the normal fluidity she always carried, while Penelope felt like she was walking the Green Mile.
Chapter 28
Tanks and Glass Cannons
Lucia had to resist the urge to reach out to Penelope as they sat side by side on the stiff leather couch in Francesca’s study, the air heavy with unsaid things and the sharp scent of espresso. Penelope had just shared all the evidence she’d uncovered—what she’d suspected her father’s role to be, and the potential issue with the Meridian.
“They have no evidence. My sensor loop was flawless, and it’s not uncommon for an error to affect just one piece. Maybe your boss is antsy because donors can make life miserable,” Jules said, shifting in the armchair with a restless bounce of her knee.
“Still, you should keep an eye on her. Calling her bluff was a good offense. I agree with Jules. If they had any real evidence, they’d have done something about it aside from calling you to the principal for questioning,” Lucia said, arms folded, trying to mask her unease.
“Belgrave’s just another of Varnelli’s puppets. But Whitfield and Lewis? They’re new,” Francesca said. “Although it doesn’t surprise me. Varnelli is dangerous—not because she employs insiders. In fact, she doesn’t need moles. She has leverage. People in the museum, on the board—she helped them once, or threatened them twice. Either way, they still talk.” Her voice rang low and precise as she stood by the fireplace, absently turning a small glass sculpture between her fingers.
“The most important question, though: What does this mean for you moving forward?”
Penelope held Francesca’s gaze. “I’m out. I went after Valentina to… I thought she’d hurt my father—my family. Turns out, he may have helpedher, and so… What’s left?”
“What about the truth? The whole story?” Lucia asked. How could Penelope just give up like that?
“I doubt Valentina is going to tell me, and my father won’t talk. So, whatever happened or why…” She shook her head. “I’ll never know.”
“How unexpectedly pessimistic,” Francesca said. “Although I respect your decision to stop now.” She turned toward Lucia. “What about you?”
“What are you talking about?” Skye interjected, perched cross-legged on the edge of the window seat, her voice sharp with disbelief. “Just because they’re shacked up doesn’t mean Lucia will leave us.”
Francesca ignored her, gaze steady on Lucia.
Lucia dropped her gaze, heart knocking uncomfortably. It still boggled her mind that Francesca meant it, that she’d not try to convince her to stay. She’d expected a fight, a guilt trip. Instead, Francesca let her go with terrifying ease.
Did she want Francesca to talk her out of it? Maybe. Starting over seemed daunting but also exhilarating. A new adventure, though maybe she wasn’t cut out for it. Still… She had to try.
“I’ll help with getting theMadonnaback, but then I’m out, too.”
“What the fuck, Lucia? This is on you!” Skye pointed at Penelope.
“Leave her out of this! It has nothing to do with Penelope.”
“Right,” Skye muttered, crossing her arms.
“Besides, I’d think you’d be happy to see the back of me,” Lucia said.
“Whatever.” Her glare slid to the floor, and she blinked rapidly.
Lucia’s brows furrowed. Something was off here. This was more than anger. Skye seemed brittle.
“I appreciate it, Lucy, as we need your help in this. I’ve been discussing the situation with Jules, and—”
“So you’ll just let her go?” Skye asked.
Francesca’s gaze turned dark as she faced Skye. “This is enough. We are not a prison, Skye. Everyone is free to leave if they wish.”
“But—”
