Chapter 2 - THE HANDWRITTEN DEATH SENTENCE
Luca folded the note.
He didn't crumple it. He didn't swear.
He just folded the small square of paper with terrifying, absolute precision.
"Mr. Moretti?" Frank whispered, his hands still trembling against his oil-stained overalls.
"How long ago did she leave this?" Luca’s voice was dangerously calm.
"Right after the argument. Before I closed the garage. She slipped it onto my bench when she thought I wasn't looking."
Luca stared at the vintage Rolls-Royce.
The car that was supposed to carry his mother.
Vanessa wasn’t just planning a murder. She was planning a public tragedy on their wedding day, designed to look like a tragic mechanical failure caused by an old, incompetent driver.
Frank would take the blame.
Isabella would be dead.
And Vanessa would become the sole matriarch of the Moretti empire.
"Daniel," Luca said as his head of security stepped into the garage, his suit jacket already unbuttoned to reveal his shoulder holster. "Lock the garage. No one enters. No one leaves."
"Done, boss."
"And Vanessa?"
"Still in the dining room, entertaining the senator’s wife."
"Keep her there." Luca turned his gaze back to Frank. "Go to the kitchen. Have the chef make a plate for your wife. Then Daniel will drive you home. You are on paid leave until I say otherwise."
Frank swallowed hard. "And Emily, sir? Miss Bellini was furious that the girl saw everything."
Luca’s chest tightened.
He had sent Emily upstairs to the doctor. But if Vanessa knew Emily was a witness, Emily wasn't safe in the staff quarters.
Luca walked out of the garage.
The night air was freezing, but he didn't feel it.
He crossed the courtyard with long, heavy strides, entering the estate through the service doors.
He bypassed the grand staircase and took the narrow staff steps two at a time.
When he reached Emily’s small room at the end of the hall, the door was cracked open.
Dr. Harris wasn't there.
Emily was standing beside her narrow bed.
She had stripped off her uniform and was wearing faded jeans and an oversized gray sweater.
She was frantically throwing clothes into a cheap canvas duffel bag.
"Leaving so soon?"
Emily jumped, dropping a handful of socks.
She spun around, her face pale, her right leg heavily bandaged beneath her denim.
"Mr. Moretti."
"I told you to see the doctor."
"He cleaned it. He wrapped it." She couldn't look him in the eye. "I'm packing. I quit."
"You don't quit." Luca stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "You need this job. You told me yourself."
"I found another one."
"At ten o'clock at night?"
Emily grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. "Please, let me leave. I won't ask for my last paycheck."
Luca watched her hands shake.
He realized she wasn't just afraid of losing her job.
She was terrified for her life.
"Emily." His voice softened. "I know about the brakes."
She froze.
The coat slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor.
"I know Vanessa cut the line," Luca continued, taking a slow step toward her. "I know she threatened Frank. And I know you tried to stop the door from crushing him."
A tear spilled over Emily’s lower lash.
"She told me," Emily whispered, her voice breaking, "that if I breathed a word to you, she wouldn't just ruin me."
Luca’s jaw locked. "What else did she threaten?"
Emily reached into her coat pocket.
Her hand was trembling so violently she could barely pull the object out.
She held it up.
It was a child’s drawing. Crayon on construction paper. A stick figure of a woman holding hands with a little boy.
"My nephew, Leo," Emily choked out. "My sister died three years ago. I'm all he has. Vanessa came into the kitchen before dinner. She leaned close to me and said she knew exactly what elementary school he attends."
Luca felt a cold, murderous rage bloom in his chest.
"Answer me one question, Emily."
She nodded, tears streaming down her face.
"Why did she think you’d stay quiet, even with the threat? What did she have over you?"
Emily looked down at her duffel bag.
Slowly, she unzipped the front pocket.
She pulled out a heavy velvet pouch and turned it upside down.
A cascade of diamonds and deep green emeralds spilled onto the cheap blanket.
Luca recognized it instantly.
It was his mother’s missing bracelet. The one that had vanished two weeks ago.
"She planted it in my locker," Emily cried. "She said if I spoke up about the garage, she’d call the police and tell them I stole it. Who would they believe, Mr. Moretti? The mafia boss's fiancée, or the maid trying to pay rent?"
Luca stared at the priceless heirloom, then at the terrified woman who had limped through a dinner party just to keep a little boy safe.
He reached out and gently took the bracelet from her shaking hands.
"They won't believe either," Luca said quietly.
Before Emily could process his words, the bedroom door flew open.
Daniel stood in the doorway, his face grim.
"Luca."
May you like
"I told you to keep her in the dining room, Daniel."
"I tried. But she got a phone call." Daniel looked at Emily, then back to Luca. "Vanessa just walked out the front doors. And she ordered your driver to take her to Emily’s apartment."
