Chapter 8 - THE VELVET BOX
I stared at the diamond ring resting against the dark blue velvet. The stone caught the amber light of the study, throwing tiny prisms across the mahogany desk.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“Luca…” I breathed, taking a step backward. “You can’t be serious. You just ended an engagement three hours ago. Your fiancée—her sister—tried to blow us up.”
Luca didn’t close the box. His expression remained completely composed, though a fierce intensity burned in his dark eyes.
“I am a pragmatic man, Emma,” he said, his baritone voice steady. “I don’t make decisions based on panic, and I don’t believe in wasting time. The woman I was engaged to was an illusion. A parasite. You?” He took a step toward me. “You stood between a loaded gun and a child you barely know. You are real.”
“But a marriage?” I stammered, my hands trembling. “I’m a housekeeper. I clean your baseboards. My dad lost his job at a hardware store. Your world… this world… it’s dangerous.”
“My world is exactly why I need you,” Luca replied softly.
He reached out and gently took my hand, placing the velvet box on the desk. His touch was warm, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm.
“Thomas is a good man, but he is dying, Emma. His heart is failing. He told me in the car. He has maybe six months left.”
A wave of sorrow washed over me. I thought of little Leo and Lucas, who had just gotten their father back. To lose him so soon…
“When Thomas passes, the state will try to take those boys again,” Luca continued, his voice hardening. “Margaret has no legal standing or income. As their uncle, I have the resources, but the courts do not look kindly on unmarried men with my… reputation.”
I swallowed hard. The Chicago mafia.
“If I am married,” Luca said, his thumb brushing gently across my knuckles, “especially to a woman with a clean background, a woman who is fiercely protective, the adoption goes through without a hitch. The boys stay here. With family.”
I looked up into his eyes. There was no manipulation there. No mafia intimidation. Just a desperate uncle trying to save his brother’s children.
“It’s an arrangement,” I whispered.
“It’s a partnership,” Luca corrected. “You will never scrub another floor. Your father’s mortgage will be paid off tomorrow morning. Your sister’s nursing school tuition will be covered in full. You will have everything you could ever need.”
“Except love,” I said softly.
Luca paused. For a fraction of a second, the hardened armor of the boss slipped, and I saw the lonely man underneath.
“Love is a luxury my world rarely affords, Emma. But respect? Loyalty? I can promise you that until my dying breath.”
He picked up the velvet box and held it out to me again.
“Sleep on it. But I need your answer by tomorrow morning.”
I took the box. It felt impossibly heavy in my hands. I left the study and walked slowly down to my small basement room.
I didn’t sleep. I sat on my narrow twin bed, staring at the ring, thinking about the little boys upstairs. I thought about my dad, stressing over late notices in our freezing kitchen on the South Side. I thought about the way Luca had thrown his body over mine when the bomb went off.
He was a dangerous man. But he was a man who protected his own.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the massive windows of the mansion. The house was quiet, the remnants of the canceled engagement party entirely cleared away by the staff.
I walked upstairs, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a sweater. I didn’t put my maid’s apron on.
I found Luca in the dining room, drinking black coffee. He looked up as I entered, his eyes immediately dropping to my left hand.
My finger was bare.
His jaw tightened, a flash of profound disappointment crossing his features, but he quickly masked it. He stood up politely.
“I understand, Emma,” he said quietly. “The severance check is still yours. I’ll have Marco drive you home.”
“I’m not leaving, Luca,” I said.
I walked over to the table and placed the velvet box next to his coffee cup.
“I don’t want the ring,” I told him, looking him dead in the eye. “If I’m going to be a mother to those boys, I’m not doing it as a purchased prop. We go to the courthouse. No diamonds. No grand announcements. We sign the papers, and we take care of our family.”
Luca stared at me. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face—the first real smile I had ever seen from him.
“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Reed.”
“Mrs. Moretti,” I corrected, my heart soaring.
He reached across the table and took my hand.
“Mrs. Moretti,” he agreed.
Before he could say anything else, the heavy mahogany doors of the dining room swung open. Marco stepped in. He looked uncharacteristically shaken.
“Boss,” Marco said urgently. “You need to come to the front gates.”
Luca’s demeanor instantly snapped back to cold authority. “What is it, Marco? Reporters?”
“No,” Marco said, swallowing hard. “It’s a woman. She’s claiming she has an appointment.”
May you like
“Send her away,” Luca commanded.
“I tried,” Marco said. He looked at me, then back at Luca. “Boss. She has the other half of the silver rosary.”
