Chapter 2 - THE SILVER LIGHTER
“What new driver?” Luca’s voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. The sudden drop in his tone made the temperature in the dining room plummet.
Vanessa’s red silk dress rustled as she took a half-step back. Her confidence, so sharp just moments ago, began to fray at the edges. “Luca, it’s nothing. Ray is getting older. My father thought it would be best to transition a younger man into your detail. For your safety.”
“Your father thought.” Luca repeated the words slowly.
He didn’t look at her. He looked at the two capos still seated at the table. One of them, a broad-shouldered man named Silvio, shifted uncomfortably.
“Bring him in,” Luca ordered.
Seconds later, the heavy oak doors opened. One of Luca’s guards shoved a young, sharp-eyed man into the room. He wore a crisp black suit, but he didn’t carry himself like staff. He carried himself like a soldier.
“Check his pockets,” Luca said.
“Mr. Moretti, I was just sent by—” the young man started.
“Check them.”
The guard emptied the man’s pockets onto the polished mahogany table. A set of car keys. A cell phone. And a heavy silver lighter engraved with a sprawling ‘B’.
The Bellini family crest.
I stood completely still, my hands still gripping the empty juice glass. I knew nothing about mafia politics, but I knew what a spy looked like. Vanessa hadn’t just been trying to fire a sick man. She had been clearing a path to place her family’s eyes directly behind the wheel of Luca’s car.
Luca picked up the lighter. The metal glinted in the chandelier light.
“You delayed my driver’s meals,” Luca said, his eyes finally locking onto Vanessa. “You ran him ragged until his hands shook, hoping he’d crash or quit, just so you could slide your father’s rat into my front seat.”
“Luca, my father is your partner! We are getting married. You need people you can trust—”
“Get him out of my house,” Luca told the guards, nodding at the young driver. “And if I see him on my property again, he leaves in the trunk.”
The guards dragged the man out. The heavy doors clicked shut, leaving a suffocating silence in their wake.
Vanessa’s face was flushed with humiliation. She glared at me, her eyes narrowing with pure venom. “Are you going to let the help stand there and listen to family business?”
Luca turned to me. I braced myself.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Nora.”
“Nora.” He said it like he was testing the weight of it. “Tomorrow morning, you are no longer cleaning the dining room. You will move upstairs. You are going to look after Leo.”
Vanessa gasped. “Luca, absolutely not! She’s a maid. Leo has tutors—”
“Leo hasn’t spoken a full sentence in three months,” Luca cut her off, his voice laced with a raw, protective edge. “Tutors aren’t fixing it. Nora noticed a man dying on his feet when the rest of you were arguing over shipping routes. She pays attention. That’s what my son needs.”
He picked up the silver lighter and dropped it into his pocket.
“Go to the kitchen, Nora,” Luca said softly. “Your shift is over.”
I walked down the long hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had just been promoted. I had just made an enemy of the future lady of the house.
When I reached the kitchen, I went to my locker to grab my coat. As I pulled my bag from the shelf, a small, folded piece of thick stationary fluttered to the floor. It hadn’t been there this morning.
I picked it up and unfolded it.
It was a list of names written in elegant, looping cursive. Vanessa’s handwriting.
May you like
Ray’s name was at the top. It was crossed out with a harsh red line. Beneath it was Silvio’s name, with a checkmark next to it. And at the very bottom, newly written in the same red ink, was my name.
Beside it, Vanessa had drawn a simple, chilling symbol: a small, dark cross.
