Noelle sucked in a breath. She was overwhelmed, a low hum of static competing with her thoughts, but even so, she registered his comment and knew there was another ingredient that made that type of victimization possible. She’d called it evil because she had no other word. All she knew was that not everyone with unlimited amounts of money and opportunity committed atrocities. She leaned into Evan, taking comfort from his closeness.
Vitucci sighed. “In any case, when I saw Fontane, I knew Van Daele and his cohorts were here after all. They must be. Where there was one, there were more. Rich men and their sons so bored by their lives of wealth and privilege that they only found thrill and meaning in collecting humans and degrading them. Still so rich, so insulated. But I knew evil did not simply fall away from men like them. The craving only grew stronger.”
Evil, yes. So he agreed. But wasn’t he evil too? She was so confused. Heartbroken. Empty. But they had to know the rest. The truth was going to help them heal. No more questions. No more lies. “What happened that night?” Noelle asked. “Why did they leave their country?”
That slight pinkie flutter again. “The night of their annual ball. The one that turned so bloody? Their privilege happened. Their egos happened. Their gluttony spilled over. Those men made all the rules, they always had. One big club of influence and power. They kidnapped women they didn’t think anyone would miss. They held them against their wills. Occasionally, they killed them in one way or another. Sometimes for sport, sometimes by accident, a few times simply because they became inconvenient. I watched as their lust for power grew. The viciousness that had once been enough no longer satisfied. They became greedier, more twisted. However, everything changed that night. They went too far. They not only murdered one nobody as a result of their entertainment, or even two. They hacked up fourteen people with table cutlery and carving knives. It was quite the scene. I still see it sometimes when I close my eyes. But what once was a nightmare is now my motivation. Anyway, even with their vast network of contacts, if a cover-up was going to have any chance of succeeding, they had to close their companies, take their assets, and disappear. And the irony of it all was that I’d chosen that night for our escape. So many drugs. So much revelry. It seemed like the perfect opportunity. It almost was.”
Evan made a sound of disgust in his throat that also held the hint of a sob. “If you were so smart, why didn’t your escape plan work? Why didn’t you save your mother and your sister?”
“Because neither were brave enough to follow through. They weren’t like you. They’d lived a life of victimhood. They didn’t know how to be anything different, even when presented the chance. I tried to force them, but in the end, I watched them both die, and I almost did as well.”
“Maybe that would have been better.”
“I think not,” Vitucci said. “In any case, those men made sure all the bodies disappeared. My mother’s and sister’s bodies were burned, I imagine. Why would it matter? Who would miss them? Perhaps it’s why I derive such intense pleasure from watching others make their escape, finding the courage to follow through where my beloveds did not. I help those who can be helped. I’m quite good at it. However, I can only assist the ones who are committed to some decency, even amid terror. The others . . . well, perhaps they don’t deserve to be saved anyway.” He turned slightly in his chair, and it let out a quiet squeak. She felt Evan’s muscles tense from beside her. “So that’s my origin story,” he said, looking at Evan. “We agreed they were important, did we not? Sometimes they are everything.”
Noelle was beginning to be able to think more clearly, her mind following along with what he was saying. Forming a picture of where this man had come from, of who he was, attempting to merge him with the vague outline of the man from her memory.
“You watched us in those cages, and you did nothing to help,” Evan said.
“On the contrary. I did everything to help. And here you are.”
“We were tortured!” Evan yelled. “We almost died!” His sudden shout had startled Noelle, but it had also bolstered her anger and therefore her bravery. She sat taller.
Vitucci’s eyes flickered to her, and she saw the minute tug of one side of his lips before his gaze returned to Evan. You profiled us. And Tallulah. And the man Evan visited in prison. And perhaps others too. You knew just what made us tick. You guessed our limitations and our strengths. And you were right.