“And Emma? Don’t open it.”
That was the moment I became curious. When Vanessa wanted something cleaned, she called housekeeping. When she wanted something hidden, she came herself. I carried the box toward the service staircase, intending to stash it until I could ask Luca privately — then I heard something metallic rattling inside. I hid it in the laundry room instead.
Thirty minutes later Vanessa found me. “Did you throw it out?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Where?” I hesitated, and her expression changed. She grabbed my arm. “Where is it?” “The laundry room.” “You stupid girl.” For the first time since I’d known her, Vanessa Bellini looked frightened — not angry, frightened. Then she recovered. “Bring it to me.” “No.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. “I think Mr. Moretti should decide.”
She smiled the way people smile when they’ve already decided how badly they’re going to hurt you. “Then bring it into the dining room. If you’re so convinced Luca should see it, let’s let him see it. And afterward, you can explain why you ignored a direct order in front of everyone.”
She wasn’t giving in. She was setting me up — I’d look like a maid interrupting an engagement dinner with household junk, and she’d fire me with Luca watching. But I’d gone too far to pretend nothing was wrong.
Ten minutes later I walked into the dining room carrying Lucia Moretti’s sewing box. Forty conversations slowly stopped. Luca sat at the head of the table — black suit, open collar, one tattooed hand resting beside his untouched wineglass.
“There she is,” Vanessa announced. “Our maid has apparently decided tonight is the perfect time to bring garbage to the dinner table.”
“What is that?” Luca asked. Before I could answer, Vanessa laughed: “Some old sewing thing she found upstairs.” “Where upstairs?” “Storage.” I looked at her — that wasn’t true. I’d found it exactly where she’d handed it to me, outside his mother’s old bedroom. Luca noticed my expression. “Emma. Where did you find it?” “Mrs. Bellini gave it to me outside your mother’s room.”
The dining room went completely still. “My mother’s room?” “Darling, I was clearing old clutter.” “That room is locked.” “She had the staff open it.” “I didn’t,” Luca said calmly. “The key is in my private desk.” Nobody moved. “Bring it here.”