‘What do you mean?’

‘The doctors have told me. I was unconscious for some time … I swallowed a lot of water. There was fluid on my lungs. I may have lost my gift. I may never be able to sing again. And even if my vocal cords are miraculously undamaged, it’s unlikely my lung capacity will be what it was. I may need to think about a change of career.’

‘Oh, Lucia,’ Davide said tenderly, reaching out for her. Lucia let herself be held, finding comfort in Davide’s arms for one final time, as a lone tear rolled slowly down one cheek. She didn’t know what the future held, but she was determined to embrace it. She would no longer be the same person going forwards, but perhaps that was for the best. Perhaps the old Lucia hadn’t been very nice or very likeable.

She intended to start afresh and wipe the slate clean. But first, she needed to speak to Gina Bellini.

Chapter 38

The Casanova Lounge on the third floor of the White Palace was one of the most beautiful spaces in the hotel. Small and intimate, it could be privately hired for weddings or parties, and boasted superlative views out towards the Lido, the long, narrow strip of island that protected Venice itself from the Adriatic Sea beyond.

Today, the spectacular room, with its flock wallpaper, velvet curtains and Murano glass chandelier, played host to four people. Gina sat on one of the low-slung sofas, with Marco sitting close beside her. One hand rested gently in his, and he kept glancing over protectively, checking to see that she was OK. On the adjacent sofa was Lucia de Santis, dressed demurely in a plain black dress, her platinum-blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, her face free of make-up.

She and Gina were both recovering well from their injuries. Lucia had moved back to her suite at the White Palace to recuperate, where Massimo catered to her every need. Gina had reluctantly taken time off work. She had decided to stay in her apartment, despite Marco’s entreaties that she should stay with him and Daniela so they could both look after her, but he visited her every day anyway, bringing gifts, food parcels and funny stories. Often Daniela came too, and Gina adored seeing her.

Marco had taken indefinite leave from Elicotteri Conti. The prospect of flying a helicopter again was not one he relished, and he had no intention of climbing back into the cockpit anytime soon. Nor did he want to sit in the office, chained to a desk and drowning in piles of paperwork. He needed to think about what his future would look like but, for Daniela’s sake, he couldn’t continue in such a high-risk profession. He had to start making changes.

Gina and Marco had spent hours talking, curled up together on the sofa in her apartment, making the most of their time together while Vittoria was at work and Daniela was at school. They’d opened up about their pasts, with Marco confiding how he’d struggled to cope when Stephana died, and Gina finally feeling brave enough to confess everything that had happened back in Cannegia. They’d discussed life and love and their feelings for one another. Marco had stopped wearing his wedding ring, and they were in the delicious honeymoon phase of their relationship where they couldn’t get enough of one another. But it felt as though their lives were in limbo, with Detective Gallo’s investigation hanging over them, and Gina felt it was tempting fate to start talking about the future.

If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans – isn’t that what they say?

Despite Marco’s company, Gina wasn’t used to having so much time on her hands, and it was sending her a little stir-crazy. She’d accompanied Vittoria to the White Palace on a few occasions, enjoying a coffee in the Casanova Bar and catching up with the team behind the scenes, just to feel the buzz of people around her. She’d met with Olivia and Max – she was still determined to organize their wedding, although Olivia had insisted on postponing it until Gina had fully recovered.

And finally, Gina had met up with Lucia. The two women had had a long, emotional talk, and that was why this meeting was now taking place with the fourth person in the room: Detective Gallo.

He sat across the coffee table from them, upright and formal on an antique chair. He switched on his Dictaphone and laid it on the table, pointing towards Gina.

‘As you know,’ he said, ‘your DNA was found on Lorenzo Mancini’s body. Your hair was found in the strap of his wristwatch, and traces of your skin were discovered beneath his fingernails, which is consistent with there being a struggle. Could you tell me, in your own words, what happened?’

Gina took a deep breath. She glanced across at Lucia, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Marco squeezed her hand for reassurance, and Gina began to speak.

Maria Monti was daydreaming as she walked home from church through the woods. She jumped as she heard a twig snap close behind her, whirling round in alarm. Almost as though she’d summoned him, Lorenzo Mancini was standing there. He smiled when he saw her.

‘Lorenzo! You gave me a fright!’ Maria’s heart was thumping, and she was both surprised and puzzled to see him.

‘I called your name but you didn’t hear me. Were you daydreaming?’ he teased, and Maria blushed. ‘What about?’ Lorenzo asked, then laughed as though he knew that she’d been thinking about him.

‘Why are you going this way? You don’t live up here,’ Maria frowned.

‘Can’t you guess?’ His smile grew wider, as Maria’s heart skipped a beat.

‘You followed me?’ she stammered, hardly daring to believe it.

Lorenzo stepped closer. He was over a head taller than her, and she had to tilt her face back to look at him. ‘You’re so beautiful, Maria,’ Lorenzo murmured.

Maria felt as though she were dreaming. Lorenzo Mancini thought she was beautiful? Impossibile! She didn’t even realize he knew her name.

Bashfully, she bowed her head, but Lorenzo reached out and placed one finger under her chin, forcing her gaze upwards. She shivered beneath his touch; the gesture felt so intimate.

‘Look at me,’ Lorenzo murmured.

Maria did as he commanded, as though she were under his spell. His eyes were dark, the pupils large. There was something intense in his expression, and it frightened her a little.

‘Lorenzo,’ she breathed, but he took her words away with a kiss, his mouth closing on hers. Maria thought she might faint, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her – she was kissing Lorenzo Mancini!

His mouth was pressed down on hers, but it was harder than she expected, uncomfortable almost. She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly, pushing his tongue inside her mouth. This wasn’t loving or tender – it was forceful and rough.

‘Lorenzo, no! Smettila!’ Maria pushed him, feeling confused and a little scared. His body felt so large against hers, as though he could easily physically overpower her. Lorenzo’s breathing was coming fast, and there was something animalistic in the way he was looking at her.

A sudden burst of fear surged through Maria. ‘I need to go home, Lorenzo. My father’s not well. He’s waiting for me.’ She began to walk away, but Lorenzo ran after her, grabbing her arm so tightly that it hurt. ‘Ouch!’ Maria exclaimed, trying to shake him free. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Don’t play the innocent with me, Maria Monti. I saw the way you were looking at me in church.’

‘What do you mean?’ Maria knew exactly what he was referring to. Yes, she’d flirted with him a little, but had she encouraged him? Had she led him on? She knew what the boys at school said about girls like her – that they were a tease.

‘I know you want this,’ Lorenzo hissed. His face was no longer handsome but twisted with cruelty, his muscular body aggressive and threatening.

Maria’s adrenaline spiked. He lunged towards her and she reacted instinctively, both hands on his chest as she pushed him with full force. It was enough to throw him off balance and he stumbled backwards, dislodging loose stones with his heels. The ground seemed to give way beneath him and he tripped, his arms flailing as he vainly tried to stay upright.

With horror, Maria realized that he was teetering on the edge of a ravine, nothing but fresh air between him and the rocky gorge a dozen metres deep.

‘Maria!’ he yelled, thrusting his hands towards her, his eyes widened in terror, his mouth opening in surprise, as the stones beneath him gave way and he dropped, his body dangling over the side of the gorge as he desperately held onto the craggy stones that jutted out and were all that stopped him from falling.

‘Maria, help me!’ His eyes beseeched her, but she felt rooted to the spot … she was the only person who could save him now …

She sprang forwards then hesitated, nervous as the ground crumbled and loose chips of rock disappeared into the deep gorge below.

‘Please!’ Lorenzo was desperate, she could see it in his eyes.

Quickly, instinctively, Maria lay down on her stomach, stretching out her hand. ‘Here, take it!’ she implored.

Lorenzo made a small movement, but his face was filled with terror. ‘I can’t let go,’ he gasped. ‘I’ll drop.’

Maria inched closer on her belly, reaching out for him. Her hand grasped his wrist. ‘I’ve got you,’ she cried triumphantly.

‘Pull me up!’

Maria tried, her muscles straining, the ache in her arms unbearable. ‘You need to help me,’ she told him. She realized she was crying, tears of exasperation and fear rolling down her cheeks. ‘I’m not strong enough. Try and pull yourself up.’

Lorenzo’s body gave a jolt and he almost slipped. Maria screamed as she was dragged forwards, Lorenzo almost pulling her over the ledge with him. Now she was terrified that he was going to pull her down too. Her hands were sweating, her grip loosening, his hand sliding through hers.

‘Maria!’ he screamed. ‘Don’t let go! I can’t—’

And then suddenly the excruciating weight pulling on her arm was gone, her shoulder muscles no longer screaming in protest. Her hand was simply dangling in mid-air over the ledge, holding onto nothing. There was a cry, and a sickening crack.

Maria opened her mouth to scream as Lorenzo fell, but no sound came out. It was as though she was too shocked. Her body reacted instinctively, scrambling back from the edge, unable to stand up but wanting to get as far away as possible.

She was panting from the exertion, sweat trickling down her back. Her stomach twisted, and for a moment she thought she might vomit. She clambered unsteadily to her feet, her legs shaking, and whirled round in terror, ready to run. But something stopped her. A sudden sense that, once again, she wasn’t alone. Through her daze, Maria heard a noise behind her.