My Husband's Brother Thinks I Killed My Late Husband

Prologue Nico was in his study in Piedmont reading a report from one of his men when a knock sounded at the door. "Come in.” He said. His butler entered carrying an envelope. "A message from the Moretti estate sir.” he said placing the envelope on his desk. Nico reached for the message and broke the seal. 'Salvatore is dead son. Return to the Moretti estate immediately.' He read. He folded the letter and rose from his chair. "Have the car prepared. We leave for the Moretti estate immediately.” "Yes, sir.” his butler said turning to leave, "And have my things packed as well.” Nico added. "I expect I’ll be there for some time.” One It stopped raining a few hours ago in Braymoor neighborhood. 23 years old Odette Davenport stood in the Moretti's estate's private cemetery the wind blowing through her long black coat. Her hair, was neatly tucked in a ponytail, while her whole body trembled from cold as she watched her late husband's coffin being lowered into the muddy ground. Salvatore Moretti was gone. It happened three nights ago in the estate. Odette had been upstairs, when she heard three gun shots. She was paralyzed at first. Then she was racing down the staircase, her heart thudding fast. She found him in the living room, with blood spreading on his clothes and under his head. He had taken three gunshots to the head and worse, She hadn't seen who it was. Odette shifted her weight, her foot sinking into the mud as her fingers trembled from cold. She tucked them into her coat pockets, willing her breath to steady as thoughts of him since his death visited her mind yet again. "You should be consumed by happiness for his passing Odette. You're free now." Odette expected a strike, a voice as if he'd heard her thoughts, but for the tenth time now nothing came. He truly was gone. He could no longer hurt her again. Odette shifted her weight again, as a car pulled up behind them. Odette turned, gazing at one of Moretti's vehicle. It was a rolls-royce ghost. One she hadn't seen in five years. Her breath faded instantly, summing with the chill which had been making her dizzy seconds ago the moment she recognized who it belonged to. "Nico Moretti." Odette murmured breathlessly. Salvatore's younger brother. Who had been away for years, since her engagement to Salvatore was announced. The driver's door opened and a masterly black shoe touched the rain darkened mud before the rest of him emerged from the vehicle leaving small murmurs around the graveside and Odette staring. His hair, once achilles gold where now black catching little daylight that went through the blanket of grey clouds. His complexion a warm sun kissed, brownish glow from exposure to sunlight overseas made the black of his mourning suit appear darker. His features, an androgynous beauty, rare, arresting, was impossible to overlook leaving the youthful sparkle they once carried long since faded. Nico Moretti had always been handsome. Painfully so. Even as boys, people had looked at him before they looked at Salvatore. It had been the one thing her husband had never been able to bear. But now...Now Nico looked like a god. One her late husband could not match. But colder and more cross, which freezes her in place sending shivers traveling down her spine. Five years of being away had cleaned away the last structures of the young cheerful boy she remembered. The Nico she knew, the unobtrusive boy who used to bring her brown cookies from the kitchen, was maybe gone. He walked closer to the grave. Everyone immediately made room without being asked. Odette swallowed. She had forgotten just how commanding Nico could be. Or perhaps... No. This was not the Nico she'd once known. This Nico walking towards his brother's grave looked brittle dressed in grief like another Moretti. Perfectly suitable and entirely unreadable. His gaze settled upon her briefly, but just as they briefly dropped her way he looked away walking past her to stand alongside his grieving father's placing a hand onto his shoulder as the priest spoke of peace, grief, and acceptance. When he finally finished, the shovel was passed around, and one by one, the earth was thrown into the grave. Once the grave had been completely covered, the mourners began to step away, towards the queue of waiting black cars, leaving the freshly turned earth behind. "Ma'am, it’s time to head back." Penelope said gently, her voice breaking through the haze of Odette’s gaze. Odette spun around to look at her maid Penelope, whose freckles stood out unto her pale face. Her hair was pulled back into a slovenly bun, tendrils escaping at the temples. She was tired, and yet still hadn't left Odette's bedside since Salvatore's death. More than a maid, Penelope had been her only solace in the Moretti's house since Nico left. Odette nodded faintly. "Yes," she said. "Let's go." But as she took a last look in the direction of the waiting cars, her eyes landed once again on Nico. He was helping his father into the back seat of one of the cars, saying something quietly as the older man sat down. "Watch your step." Nico murmured. Mr. Moretti laid a trembly hand on his younger son's shoulder and nodded. And then, as if he'd sensed her eyes, Nico's head lifted, their eyes meeting. Odette quickly looked away. Her chest tightening. She heard him follow after his father the door slamming shortly behind him. Odette turns her eyes meeting Penelope. "Please." she says accompanying Penelope away to their car, her boots in the muddy mire. But they had not had a chance to get far when a faint voice called out behind them. "Odette, my dear." Odette turned meeting the face of Nonna, Salvatore's grandmother, advancing toward her, she was wearing a black lace veil hiding her silver hair. She leaned on her cane. And behind her stood two of Salvatore's young cousins. Odette rushed toward her, bobbing her head in respect. "Nonna." The gloved hand of the old woman extended, as she clasped Odette's in both of her own. Nonna's eyes became teary. "Oh, child, I'm so sorry for your loss." Odette's throat tightened. "Thank you, Nonna." The older woman gave her hand a small squeeze, then drew back just enough to let her gaze move down to Odette’s midsection. She frowned slightly, then lifted one frail, gloved hand and pressed it gently to Odette’s stomach. Odette froze. "You’ve put on a little weight child,” Nonna said softly, her eyes narrowing just slightly. "Or maybe it’s the coat. Hard to tell under all that black. You're not. expecting, are you, dear?" she breathed. "Salvatore never said anything, but I always hoped, for a little Moretti heir."