Chapter 4 - THE THREAT IN THE GUEST ROOM
The revelation hung in the air like smoke. Luca’s nephew—the rightful heir to the Moretti family—was alive. And Julian Rossi, the man who had just tried to orchestrate Luca’s ruin, had the missing boy’s photograph hidden inside a stolen family heirloom.
“Where is he?” Luca muttered, staring at the little boy’s face in the watch. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff. “All these years, I thought they were dead. Julian helped me look for them. He helped me bury empty caskets.”
A chill rushed down my spine. The betrayal was so deep, so absolute, it was almost hard to comprehend.
“Sir,” I said softly. “If Julian has the watch, Vanessa might know where the boy is. They’re married. They share everything.”
Luca’s head snapped up. The grief in his eyes instantly hardened into cold, sharp focus. “You’re right.” He stood up, shoving the watch into his pocket. “She knows. And she’s going to tell me.”
“Wait,” I said, stepping in his path before I could talk myself out of it. “If you go up there angry, she’ll shut down. She’s terrified of you right now. But she’s not terrified of me.”
Luca paused. He looked at me, really looked at me, taking in my plain black uniform and white apron. “What are you suggesting?”
“Let me go up to the guest room. Let me bring her a glass of water and help her out of that heavy dress. If I talk to her—woman to woman, someone she already looks down on—she might slip up. She might boast or threaten me with information.”
Luca studied my face. “It’s dangerous, Sophie. If she realizes what you’re doing…”
“I know how to handle angry women in wedding dresses,” I said, offering a small, sad smile. “It used to be my entire job.”
Luca hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Ten minutes. I’ll be listening right outside the door.”
When I reached the third-floor guest suite, the heavy oak door was locked from the outside. A guard nodded to me, turning the key.
I stepped inside, balancing a silver tray with a pitcher of ice water. The room was dark, the heavy velvet curtains drawn tight. Vanessa was sitting on the edge of the four-poster bed, the eighty-thousand-dollar gown now a wrinkled, dirty mess around her legs.
When she heard the door click shut, her head shot up. Her eyes were red and swollen, her makeup completely ruined.
“Get out,” she hissed.
“I brought you water,” I said, keeping my voice mild and submissive. I set the tray on the nightstand. “Mr. Moretti asked me to help you unlace the corset. You can’t sleep in that.”
She let out a bitter, mocking laugh. “Sleep? You think I’m going to sleep? I’m going to prison, or a shallow grave, because of you.”
I walked behind her, carefully avoiding her gaze in the mirror, and began unthreading the intricate silk ribbons down her spine. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t want to ruin your life. But when he asked me directly… I couldn’t lie to him.”
“You’re pathetic,” she spat. “You think Luca cares about your honesty? You’re a maid. You wipe his floors. He’ll toss you out the moment you stop being useful.”
I kept my hands steady, loosening the final knot. “Maybe. But at least I don’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”
Vanessa turned around so fast she almost knocked me over. She grabbed my wrists, her perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin. Her eyes were wild, desperate.
“You think you’ve won?” she whispered venomously. “You think you saved the great Luca Moretti? You know nothing.”
“I know you and Julian tried to steal his money,” I said, keeping my voice small, playing the naive servant.
“Money?” Vanessa laughed, a high, thin sound that made my skin crawl. “It was never just about money. We were going to take his entire empire. And we still will.”
“Julian is going to jail,” I countered. “It’s over.”
Vanessa leaned in close, her breath smelling of sour champagne. “Julian is just the middleman. Do you really think a real estate broker orchestrated this? We have insurance. Leverage that Luca would burn down the whole city to get.”
My heart hammered. I forced myself to look confused. “Leverage?”
“A little boy,” Vanessa whispered, her eyes gleaming with cruel triumph. “Luca’s precious nephew. We know where he is. We’ve kept him safe for seven years.”
I gasped, a genuine reaction that seemed to satisfy her. “You kidnapped a child?”
“Rescued him,” she corrected, letting go of my wrists. “His mother was weak. She gave him to us for a pile of cash, then drank herself to death a year later. Julian and I have been raising him in secret. Waiting for the right time.”
“But… where is he?” I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.
Vanessa smirked, turning back to the mirror to wipe the smeared mascara from her cheeks. “Nice try, Sophie. But I’m not stupid. I know Luca is probably standing right outside that door.”
My stomach dropped. She knew.
Suddenly, Vanessa lunged for her discarded clutch purse on the vanity. She pulled out her phone, her fingers flying across the screen.
“You think I didn’t come prepared?” she sneered. She held the screen up to my face.
It was a live security camera feed. But it wasn’t from the mansion. It was a small, dingy living room. An older woman was sitting on a floral sofa, knitting.
I stopped breathing.
“Mom,” I choked out.
“That’s right,” Vanessa said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Julian had a team look into everyone on Luca’s staff weeks ago. We know your mother lives in an assisted care facility in Oak Park. And right now, there is a man parked outside her window, waiting for my text.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. “Don’t touch her. Please.”
“Here are your new orders, Sophie,” Vanessa commanded, her eyes cold and dead. “You are going to walk out that door and tell Luca that I know nothing about the boy. You’re going to tell him Julian acted alone. If you breathe a word about this to Luca, my man walks into that facility, and your mother never wakes up.”
She pressed the phone against my chest.
“Do we understand each other?” she asked.
Before I could answer, the heavy oak door crashed open. Luca stood in the doorway, his eyes burning with a dark, lethal fire.
He looked at me, then at Vanessa.
“What’s going on in here?” Luca demanded.
Vanessa smiled sweetly, slipping the phone behind her back. “Nothing, darling. Sophie was just helping me with my dress.”
Luca stepped into the room, his eyes locking onto my terrified face. “Sophie. Did she tell you where the boy is?”
I opened my mouth. I thought of the little boy trapped in the pocket watch. Then I thought of my mother, sitting alone in her apartment, completely defenseless.
May you like
I looked at Luca’s waiting face, my heart tearing in two.
“No, sir,” I lied, my voice breaking. “She doesn’t know anything.”
