Lured into Lies by Melanie Martins
Chapter 21
Amsterdam, December 1, 2020
Petra Van Gatt
Of all the hotels in Amsterdam, I’m positively surprised that Emma booked a historic private house for us. And it’s not any house. Nope, it’s the one and only Breitner House. According to our host, Camilla, the iconic mansion was built in the nineteen century and used to be the house of the well-known Dutch Impressionist painter, George Breitner. She gives us an entire tour of the place, before showing us one of the bedrooms which used to be his studio—the bedroom is ample, extravagant and refined, with baroque style high ceilings, a crystal chandelier in the center, and paintings covering the walls. I notice there’s also a living room adjacent to the bedroom with a big classic fireplace. I cannot for the life of me believe Emma came up with this accommodation on her own. She doesn’t like art and couldn’t care less about it, so how come she found the house of a renewed painter in only fifteen minutes?
“Alright, if you need anything else just dial nine to call reception,” Camilla says before she goes and closes the door behind, leaving Emma and I alone.
“How did you find out about this place?” I ask straight away.
Emma goes to the bed and lies on it, sighing loudly as she revels in the coziness of the mattress. “Yara booked it for me.”
“Yara?” I remain confused as to why she would do so. “You called her?”
“Well, yeah. She knows Amsterdam a lot better than I do.” She then sits on the bed, and after observing me for a few more seconds, she says, “So, now that we are here…” I roll my eyes, already anticipating what she will say next. “Are you gonna tell me what happened or what?”
“Alex and I had a fight and, um, I’m no longer sure what I want to do…” Jeez, I can’t believe I’m having doubts about marrying him. After everything we went through, this is something I never thought I’d be hesitant of. And yet, here we are.
“Yeah, I kinda figured it out, but what was it about?” she asks, her eyes fixed on me.
I sigh, knowing she’s not gonna like the answer. “I can’t tell you that part.”
“What?” Emma blinks twice, gaping at me, and I can tell her patience is running low. “Oh girl, forget it. I’m not gonna sit here and watch you be sad and depressed without knowing why.” Do I look sad and depressed though? I didn’t even think I did. “So? Fess up.”
I go and sit beside her on the bed; it’s actually pretty comfortable. Since Emma keeps looking at me to get an answer, I lie down, averting her gaze. “It’s nothing really. I promised I wouldn’t say a word to anyone.”
Emma lies down beside me, and we both start looking at the white ceiling above us. “I’m not anyone.”
“I know, but I promised to keep my mouth shut.”
I feel her eyes on me as she asks, “Was it such a big fight that you can’t forgive him?”
Her question makes me uneasy and I’m not sure what to tell her about it. “He did some very bad things in the past. Things I’m not sure how I feel about.”
“What is it long time ago?” She asks again.
“Yeah, twenty years ago.”
“Huh?” She sits immediately, her face totally in shock. “Why do you care so much about it, then?”
“It’s complicated…” That’s the best way to sum it up. “He did a horrible thing and threatened my mom if she would ever speak out.”
“Oh, so it’s that secret your mom knows about but didn’t want to tell you?”
“Yeah…” I let my word trail off as I remain engrossed on my owns thoughts. “I’m just so conflicted; on one side, I love him so much, but on the other, I hate him for what he did, and I want to make him pay for that.”
“Does he regret doing it?”
“Well, he said it was a mistake, a party that went wrong,” I tell her, trying my best to remain vague. “At least, I hope so.”
“Alright,” Emma mumbles, leaving the bed. “I’m sure you guys will be fine. I’m starving, gonna check what’s up for dinner.” She takes the desk phone resting on the nightstand, dials a number and puts the phone against her ear. “Good evening, I’d like to know what your options are for dinner.” Her face glows instantly for some reason. “Oh, cool, yeah, one sec…” She then looks at me, turning the phone away from her face. “Petra, what do you want to eat? They can cook anything for us.”
“What am I doing?” I ask, still ruminating about us.
“Um, right now, you were about to tell me what you want to eat.”
“No, I mean, what am I supposed to do?”
“Petra, he made a mistake twenty years ago. Like, who cares…”
“I do care. He killed a woman, for fuck’s sake!” Oh shit! I cover my mouth to prevent my gasp, but it’s too late. Why can’t I just shut the fuck up?
Emma remains totally frozen as she blinks at me, her mouth wide open. “Alright, it seems like she hasn’t decided yet. I’ll call you later.” And she hangs up.
Before she can say or do anything else, I put my hands together and plead, “Please, Emma, don’t say a word to anyone about it.” Jeez, I can’t believe I fessed up such a big secret to her. If Alex knows I told her, he might never talk to me ever again.
“So he killed someone twenty years ago? Holy shit! That’s wild…” Emma rushes back to the bed, but instead of sitting, she just stands in front of me, leaning against the wall.
“It was an accident, a party that went wrong…” Since Emma already knows one part of the story, I guess it’s okay to tell her the rest. “But yeah, and she was the daughter of one of his friends… And until now, Alex never told him the truth, can you imagine? And when Mom wanted to speak out, he threatened her.”
“Fuck…” Emma takes a deep breath in and out but keeps quiet for a few more seconds. “I mean, we all do make mistakes.”
“I don’t go around killing people on accident,” I snap back.
“But it was an accident, wasn’t it? Like, it can happen to anyone.” I can’t help but remain perplexed at how cool Emma seems to be about what he did. She then glances around the room, goes to the window beside the bed, and opens it. “Do you think I can smoke here?”
“Why are you protecting him so much?” I finally ask her.
She stands by the open window and takes a cigarette from her pack. “Well, because it could’ve been me when I tied up James in my basement, you know.” Then she puts the cigarette between her lips and lights it up. After blowing out the smoke, she says, “Fortunately, you stepped in and made me stop.” Despite knowing she just wants to help me and make me feel better, what he did doesn’t sit well with me, and I don’t know how I will ever look past that. “The point is it’s thanks to his past that he’s the man he’s today.”
“But he lied to me about it.”
“You did lie too. Remember?”
I can’t believe she’s bringing this up. Shaking my head, I snarl, “It’s not even comparable!”
“Alright, babe, look…” She puffs the smoke toward the window, before turning to me. “I’m not here to rush you into getting married. If you want to cancel the wedding, by all means do it, call Margaret or Julia and tell them you’re not ready.” My eyes drift down to my lap as I consider this option. “If you can't forgive him then, yeah, I think it’s better you don’t marry him.” After she throws her cigarette away, she closes the window and walks back to the nightstand. “Now, I really have to order some damn food before I die of starvation.” While Emma is again calling the kitchen, I draw out a breath, thinking about what I should do; canceling the wedding seems the most reasonable and sensible thing to do. After all, even if I forgive him, being married to Alexander Van Dieren will lead to terrible consequences, and I’m not sure how deadly they can be.
“Oh that sounds nice,” I hear Emma saying over the phone. “Petra,” she whispers, but loud enough to get my attention. “Do you like Risotto with mushrooms, vegan cheese, and white truffles?”
Despite her question, I’m still lost in my own thoughts; if I do marry him, then Mom might simply go to Jan and tell him the truth. I know she intends to give him the report and show him where the body of his daughter is. And if Jan ever finds out that Alex and his family are to blame, I don’t even want to imagine how vengeful he will be. “I’ve got such a bad presentiment, Emma.”
“Because of the white truffles?” She asks, most likely to tease. “It’s still the season though…” Seriously? I cock my head to the side, squinting my eyes at her. “That sounds perfect. Thanks,” she says to the kitchen, before hanging up. “What kind of presentiment?”
“I can’t explain, but I feel like if I marry him, something terrible is gonna happen.” I pause for a beat, gauging her expression. Emma remains focused on me, impatiently waiting for more. “When I was in Bermuda, a soothsayer told me she could only see death and misery for us. And the best to prevent it would be to end the relationship.”
Her brows raise up and she chuckles at it. “And you believed her?”
“No, I didn’t,” I reply straight away. “But now… Now I’ve got the feeling she’s right.” Since Emma is still staring at me with an air of disbelief, I add, “Alex threatened my mom when she reported him twenty years ago, and I’m pretty sure she will report him to Jan if I marry him. What if he kills her to prevent her from speaking? Or what if Jan kills Alex? There are so many consequences if I go forward with the wedding.”
“I don’t think Alex will go as far as killing your mom…”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask her, my torments taking over me. “I might not like her much, but she doesn’t deserve to die.”
“Oh gosh, babe, don’t you love him?”
Emma makes it seems like an obvious choice, and I wish I could be like her, just not giving a shit about his past, overlooking whatever can happen in the future and just hoping for the best. But lives are at stake, and I can’t take it lightly. “I do, but—”
“Forgiveness is a virtue, you know,” she interposes.
“Yeah, easier said than done.”
* * *
After dinner and while I’m on the sofa of the living room reading, Emma is getting ready to go out. After applying her mascara, she looks at me from the mirror and asks, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”
“A hundred percent. I’ve got a few books to read.”
We hear some knocks on the door, and Emma’s face immediately glows at the sound. She hastens to fling the door wide open and to my surprise, I see her welcoming Yara inside our living room. Wow. I never thought they’d get along so well after meeting only once at the engagement party. They seem to be inseparable now. I take my AirPods out and greet her for the sake of politeness. “Hey, Yara, how are you?” And I hope that she won’t get started about her brother.
However, Yara seems to have precisely that in mind as she walks in my direction and sits beside me on the sofa. “Can I have a word with you?”
“Um, sure…” I switch position and sit in a more proper way to listen to her.
“Look, my brother didn’t tell me why you left, but all I know is that if you don’t marry him Saturday, he’s gonna marry someone else.”
“What?” Emma and I shout at the same time. A wave of shock paralyzes me at her statement, and I find myself lost for words.
“Are you serious, right now?” Emma asks, matching with my own thoughts as she joins us.
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Why on earth would he do that?” I mange to pull off, my tone filled with frustration and despair.
“Because he’s hurt, and if you don’t go to the wedding, he’s gonna sabotage himself by marrying Amanda.” Yara doesn’t mince her words. Blowing out a breath, she then adds, “He’s fucked up, like totally fucked up.”
Amanda? My heart drops into the knotted mess in my stomach. Does he want to marry her? “Or maybe he just realized he should marry her instead,” I tell them as I try my best to look calm and unbothered.
“Petra, I know you are furious at him, but can’t you be furious and married to him?” I stare at Yara with narrowed eyes, yet her serious face makes me chuckle inwardly. “Like you’ll have your whole life to hate him, but can’t you do it inside the same house?”
“I appreciate your advice, but it’s not that simple,” I tell Yara. “Maybe Amanda is the right woman for him.” I shrug.
“Should I slap her or what?” Emma asks Yara. And my jaw drops, realizing that I’m the target. “You love him, he loves you, and you are being fucking stupid,” Emma snaps at me. “You are just overthinking things.” She then turns to Yara and says, “You can say to your brother and your mom that Petra is going. She’s just taking a break.”
“Emma!” I snap. “I need time to think!”
“You’ve had time enough.”
“What he did is not so easy to forgive,” I riposte.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! What he did happened twenty years ago.” WHAT! I can’t believe Emma said that out loud, forgetting Yara is sitting right beside me. I give her a censoring look, and she seems to get it since she breaks eye contact and mutters, “Alright, do whatever.” Then she turns to Yara, who obviously is now wondering what I could know about that incident, and says, “I’m just gonna grab my purse before we go.”
Once Emma leaves us alone, Yara turns to me, her dark-brown gaze becoming more sinister and threatening. “Was it my brother or your mom who told you about it?” Her tone is frightening, cold, and barely recognizable from the Yara I know.
“Um…” I cut eye contact, feeling slightly uncomfortable at how her eyes are still fixated on me. “It doesn’t matter. I won’t say a word to anyone…” I glance at the door wondering why Emma is taking so long. “I’m gonna check what Emma is doing.” And just as I stand up from my seat, Yara grabs my arm and pulls me down right away.
“I need answers, Petra.”
“You are hurting me,” I snap as I look at her hand still holding my arm.
“Was it my brother or your mother?” she repeats the question in a slow pace, but her voice is scary enough for me to know that if I don’t give her an answer, she isn’t gonna let me go.
“Why is it so important to you?” I look her in the eye, matching with her seriousness and cold stare. “Why are you behaving like a crazy psycho?”
“Answer my question,” she grits the words out through her teeth, and her hand starts tightening on my arm. “Isn’t that clear?”
I feel tempted to get physical and slap her, but she is an athlete, and I’m pretty sure she’s got more strength than I, so instead, I just say, “Ask your brother.”
“Is everything alright?” I hear Emma inquiring as she finally returns into the living room.
All of a sudden, Yara releases me, and her threatening gaze turns into a pleasant one. Jeez, how does she manage to go from a crazy psycho to a decent human in the split of a second? “Everything’s alright, Emma.” She stands up, her eyes always on me. I compose myself but remain on my guard until Yara turns her back and walks toward the door.
Emma and I exchange a quick look, but it’s enough for her to know that I really appreciate her stepping in.