THE RAVIOLI, THE EVICTION, AND THE SILVER WATCH

Vanessa stopped breathing.

She stood frozen in her stunning red gown, looking completely trapped under the brilliant glow of the crystal chandeliers.

The wealthy guests seated around the table exchanged nervous glances. Some shifted in their velvet chairs, desperately trying to pretend they were not witnessing the collapse of the Moretti empire’s impending marriage.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Vanessa said.

Her voice was tight. Defensive.

Luca didn’t yell. He didn’t have to.

He stepped closer to her, holding up the yellowed paper.

“This is a sworn statement,” Luca read, his dark eyes burning. “Dated October 4th, 2005. It details an embezzlement scheme from the Moretti foundation. Over four million dollars siphoned into an offshore account. And it is signed by Richard Bellini.”

Vanessa’s father.

I stood by the serving doors, my hands gripping my tray so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Everyone in Chicago knew about Richard Bellini. He had been a disgraced investment banker who fled the country twenty years ago, leaving his family in financial ruin. Vanessa had spent her entire adult life clawing her way back into high society, rebranding herself as a brilliant, self-made asset manager.

Now, the truth was out in the open.

“My father was framed!” Vanessa shouted, her composure finally breaking. “Antonio forced him to sign that! Your father was a monster who ruined my family to cover his own missing money!”

Luca’s expression went stone cold.

“My father never ruined anyone who didn’t deserve it,” Luca said softly.

He looked down at the paper again.

Then he flipped it over.

His eyes widened slightly.

“There is something else written on the back,” Luca said.

Vanessa lunged forward. “Give that to me!”

She tried to snatch the paper, but Luca caught her wrist mid-air. He didn’t hurt her, but his grip was absolute iron.

He held her in place while he read the back of the confession.

“‘The remaining funds are secured in the Caruso trust,’” Luca read aloud. “‘Only the true heir holds the key.’”

Luca slowly let go of Vanessa’s wrist.

He turned to look at Teresa Caruso.

The elderly woman looked just as shocked as everyone else. She clutched her wooden serving spoon against her coat, shaking her head.

“I don’t know anything about a trust, Luca,” Teresa whispered, her voice trembling. “My husband and I just cooked. We never took a dime from Antonio except for his dinner tabs.”

Luca believed her. I could see it in his eyes.

He turned his attention back to his fiancée.

“That’s why you wanted the restaurant,” Luca realized.

The pieces were snapping together right in front of us.

“You didn’t care about redevelopment,” Luca said, his voice filled with disgust. “You didn’t care about the land value. You authorized the eviction because you knew the embezzled money was hidden somewhere inside Teresa’s building. You were going to demolish it and dig through the rubble to recover your father’s stolen millions.”

Vanessa didn’t deny it.

She stood tall, smoothing her red silk dress, her eyes flashing with a sudden, vicious defiance.

“It belongs to my family!” Vanessa snapped. “My father died in a cheap apartment in Argentina because Antonio destroyed his reputation! That money is my inheritance!”

“That money belongs to the widows and orphans my father’s foundation supported,” Luca corrected coldly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box.

It was the engagement ring.

He didn’t open it. He simply tossed it onto the table. It landed next to the plate of homemade ravioli with a heavy, final thud.

“Get out of my house,” Luca ordered.

Vanessa sneered.

“You think this is over, Luca?” she whispered. “I am the head of your asset management division. I know every password, every account, every vulnerability in your company. If you throw me out tonight, I will burn your empire to the ground by sunrise.”

Luca stared at her.

“Marcus,” Luca called out.

The head of security stepped into the room immediately.

“Sir?”

“Escort Miss Bellini to the gate. Do not let her pack her bags. Have her company laptop confiscated. And freeze her security clearance.”

Vanessa’s face went pale again.

As Marcus approached her, she shot one final, venomous look at Teresa Caruso.

“You better watch your back, old woman,” Vanessa hissed.

Then she turned and glared at me, the quiet housekeeper standing by the door.

“And you,” Vanessa spat. “You should have thrown that garbage food away.”

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining room, Marcus following closely behind.

The heavy oak doors slammed shut.

The engagement dinner was officially over.

Luca turned to his silent, staring guests.

“Please excuse me,” he said smoothly. “Dinner will continue. But I will be taking my meal in my study.”

He picked up the plate of Teresa’s homemade ravioli.

He looked at me.

“Emma. Come with me.”

My stomach dropped.

I placed my tray down and followed him out of the room, my heart hammering against my ribs.

We walked down a long, quiet hallway lined with expensive paintings, finally entering his private mahogany study.

Luca set the plate of ravioli on his massive desk.

He didn’t sit down. He stood by the window, looking out into the dark Chicago night.

“You risked your job tonight,” Luca said without turning around. “Vanessa would have fired you if I hadn’t intervened.”

“I couldn’t throw Mrs. Caruso’s food away, sir,” I answered honestly. “I know what it’s like to work hard to care for someone you love.”

Luca finally turned to look at me.

His dark eyes were assessing, searching my face.

“You take care of your father, don’t you?” he asked.

I blinked in surprise. “Yes. He had a stroke last year. How did you know?”

“I read the employee files of everyone who works in my house,” Luca said simply.

He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the yellowed confession paper.

“Teresa is in danger,” Luca stated. “Vanessa is desperate. If the money is hidden in that restaurant, Vanessa won’t stop just because I canceled the demolition permits. She will hire someone to break in.”

I nodded slowly. “What can I do, sir?”

Luca walked over to his desk.

He picked up a heavy brass key from a small dish.

“I need you to go to Caruso’s right now,” Luca said. “Take my private car. Take Teresa with you. I need you to search the back office where her husband found the pocket watch.”

He handed me the key.

“And I need you to find what this opens.”

I looked down at the key.

But before I could speak, the heavy study door burst open.

Marcus stood in the doorway, breathing heavily.

“Boss,” Marcus said, his voice tight with alarm. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?” Luca demanded.

“Vanessa didn’t leave empty-handed,” Marcus said. “She managed to grab something from the foyer table before I could stop her.”

Luca’s jaw tightened. “What did she take?”