Page 124 of Bene

Her phone.

Vanna no longer had one of her own. Mario took it from her, and refused to give it back, citing the fact she could use it to call that Guzzi bastard as a reason. Like he couldn’t just check her history and go through everything if he wanted it. Really, she figured it was just another way for him to control her.

Nonetheless, someone else’s phone would do the job, and she’d noticed that the seamstress didn’t seem to keep her device locked with anything more than a swipe on the home screen. Knowing how dangerous it was, and if she was caught … well, she might not make it to her wedding, not that she cared, Vanna headed back across the hall with the phone in hand. She already had the text messages up, and a familiar phone number typed in to ready for sending. Putting the video on record, she stuck the phone into the crack of the door, letting it pick up any sounds of the conversation Mario was still having with the detective.

Had she missed the good bits?

The stuff that might help?

Vanna didn’t know.

But she had to try.

A part of her heart had never given up hope that she could somehow fix this mess she made—that eventually, Bene would hear her apologies, and understand that she knew she had made a horrible mistake.

This wasn’t the apology, but it might help him. It wouldn’t get her out of the marriage, but it very well might help his family somehow. And if it meant sacrificing herself, if he only used what she sent him to help his family and not her … well, Vanna would understand.

She wouldn’t blame him at all.

The phone sent through the first recording, stopping at the max time it could record before it started recording again.

“And you’re still good with the ten thousand a week transferred into the account?” Mario asked.

Keefs was quick to respond with, “Well, if you’re doing better because of my work, then I’m not opposed to you paying me for advancement.”

“Is that a demand, or—”

“It’s whatever you want it to mean, Mario. I’m not sure how your father would feel about the fact you worked with a cop to get your clan further ahead in controlling Toronto, but if you think he’d like to sit down with me and have a chat about it, I am willing to do that.”

“No need,” Mario muttered gruffly, “an extra ten percent on top of the pile, then?”

“That’ll work.”

“It’ll be in the next payment.”

The phone automatically sent the next text message.

Vanna couldn’t afford to record more, however. Downstairs, she heard the front door to the house close, letting her know the seamstress was done with her break—it was never about going to get the dress, she knew—and was now coming back.

Not wanting to risk it, Vanna headed back to the bedroom, texting a simple, I’m sorry, Bene, and I hope this helps. Don’t respond, it’s not my phone. –V.

Bene would know who it was. He could do with it what he wanted. She had done what she could. It took all of ten seconds for Vanna to go back and delete the text message thread so that the seamstress wouldn’t know someone used her phone.

And by the time the seamstress was back in the bedroom, Vanna was already pulling down the straps of the red lace bra, readying to slip into the wedding dress that would surely feel more like a prison than it would a fairy tale.

Not that she could focus on those thoughts—her heart couldn’t afford it, and she was not going to become that blubbering, weak woman who just gave in. That wasn’t her, and it wouldn’t be her simply because everything felt hopeless right now. Besides, she was already heartsick, it simply wasn’t over the man she would marry in a month.

No, it was over the one she couldn’t have.

The one she hurt.

The one she’d been meant to hate.

Every single night … Vanna cried for him. When no one could see, and no one would know, she broke down. She allowed herself to think of him, their short time together, and what might have been. He filled her thoughts all the time—day in and day out—but it was only at night, when she was truly alone, that she let herself be weak over it.

In a way, it felt like a punishment.

One she deserved, after everything.