Page 65 of Lorenzo

The next image is closer.

Genevieve lies beside the bed in, yes, the same red dress from the photograph I saved. It is, in fact, zipped all the way up. Dark bruising circles her throat, with deeper marks along one side where the pressure was strongest.

Her eyes are closed, and her head is turned slightly to one side. The bruising along her throat is unmistakable, dark against her skin, but there is little blood and no obvious injury elsewhere in the frame.

I study the angle of her jaw, the marks along her neck, and the way her hair has fallen across the carpet.

I move to the next photograph, then the next, studying the position of her body, her hands, the dress, and the room around her.

The next picture is one of the stills of Genevieve and Alessio in the lobby. It's obvious they're into each other. Their hands are all over each other.

The next picture is of them in the elevator. Alessio has her pressed against the mirrored wall, and her head is tilted back while she kisses him.

I scroll to the next picture, then stop.

I quickly scroll back to the previous one of the elevator.

I narrow my eyes and enlarge the image, zooming in on their faces.

I pull up the close-up image of her after she was dead and compare the two. Then I pull up the picture of her in her main profile again.

After a minute, I sit back, my mind racing with possibilities.

“Holy hell.”

I minimize the page and open my private investigator directory.

No. Couldn’t be…

Chapter Nine

Lorenzo

I am halfway through dinner with my sons when my phone alerts beside my plate.

Rinaldi.

I glance at the screen.

Private investigator at the gate.

My eyes move to the time.

It is after 7:00.

Donna and I do not have an appointment tonight.

Across the table, Alessio is saying something to Edoardo, though I have stopped listening. Donna would not come here unannounced without a reason.

Maybe she found something.

I pick up the phone and answer the alert.

Let her in.

I set the phone down and push back from the table.

“Who is it?” Edoardo asks.