**“GET THAT THIEF OUT OF MY HOUSE!” THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE SHATTERED THE LITTLE FLOWERPOT MY 33-YEAR-OLD SON HAD BROUGHT ME—THEN TOLD LUCA, “HE CAME BEGGING HIS MOTHER FOR MONEY AGAIN,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY I WAS ON MY KNEES CRYING.**

The air in the foyer turned heavy, suffocating.

Luca stepped between his mother and Vanessa. He looked at Teresa, completely bewildered.

“Mom, what are you talking about? You gave Matthew Isabella’s necklace? Why would you do that?”

Teresa leaned on her cane, her eyes filled with a deep, sorrowful regret.

“Because four years ago, Luca, I was a terrified old woman,” she confessed quietly. “You had just taken over the family business. Your father had just passed away. The families were circling us like vultures, waiting for a moment of weakness. And right in the middle of it all, I discovered that one of our own accounts had been drained.”

She pointed a trembling finger at Vanessa.

“Two hundred thousand dollars. Gone from the estate’s charity fund. The fund your father set up.”

I gasped.

Vanessa’s face turned the color of ash. “She’s lying! She’s senile! Luca, you can’t believe this!”

“I found the transfer records in your suite, Vanessa,” Teresa continued, her voice gaining strength. “You were funneling the money to pay off a gambling debt your brother racked up with the Rossi family. If the Rossi family found out you were stealing from us to pay them, it would have started a war. We were vulnerable. I couldn't let that happen.”

“So you let her get away with it?” Luca asked, his voice thick with betrayal.

“I confronted her,” Teresa said. “But she laughed in my face. She said if I told you, she would go to the police with fabricated evidence claiming Ellen was the one who stole the money.”

My breath caught. “Me?”

Teresa nodded at me, tears welling in her kind eyes. “Yes, Ellen. Vanessa had spent months forging your signature on withdrawal slips. She had planted deposits in a dummy account under your name. She told me she would send you to federal prison for the rest of your life.”

I grabbed the edge of a marble table to steady myself. Twelve years I had served this family. I had polished their floors, cooked their meals, held Teresa’s hand when her husband died. And this woman had meticulously planned to destroy my life just to cover her own theft.

“I couldn't let her do that to you, Ellen,” Teresa whispered. “So, I made a deal with the devil. I told Vanessa I would keep quiet about the embezzlement, as long as she destroyed the forged documents framing you. But Vanessa demanded collateral. She wanted something of immense value to hold over me, to ensure I never spoke up.”

Teresa turned her gaze to Matthew.

“So I gave her Isabella’s necklace. But I couldn't just hand it to her. If you found it missing, Luca, you would turn the house upside down. There had to be a culprit. Someone expendable. Someone who already looked guilty.”

Teresa reached out and gently touched Matthew’s cheek.

“I am so sorry, Matthew. I saw you in the kitchen that night. You were high, desperate. You asked me for a few dollars. I gave you the necklace instead. I told you to go to a specific pawn shop. I knew Vanessa owned the pawn shop. I knew she would keep the ticket and hold it over me forever. I sacrificed your reputation to save your mother from prison.”

Matthew didn't look angry. He just closed his eyes and let out a long, ragged exhale. “I understand, Mrs. Moretti. I would have done anything for my next fix back then. You just used what was broken in me.”

“That doesn't make it right,” I said fiercely, my voice shaking with a rage I had never felt before. I glared at Vanessa. “You orchestrated all of this. You used my son’s addiction. You tried to frame me. All to protect yourself.”

“It’s a ridiculous story!” Vanessa screamed, backing away toward the front door. “Where is the proof? Where are these forged documents? Teresa says I destroyed them, which means there’s no evidence! It’s the word of an old bat and a junkie against mine!”

“You’re right,” Teresa said calmly. “You did destroy the documents framing Ellen.”

Teresa reached into her cardigan pocket and pulled out a small, heavy brass key.

“But you didn't destroy the leverage you held over me. You kept it hidden. To ensure I would stay silent when you finally manipulated Luca into marrying you.”

Vanessa’s eyes locked onto the brass key. Absolute terror flashed across her face.

“Daniel,” Teresa said, handing the key to the head of security. “Go to the third-floor library. Behind the portrait of my late husband, there is a small wall safe. Open it. Bring me the black lockbox inside.”

Vanessa lunged for the key. “No!”

But Daniel easily stepped aside, letting Vanessa stumble onto the marble floor.

“Watch her,” Daniel instructed his men. He took the key and ran up the grand staircase.

Vanessa scrambled to her feet. She looked at Luca, her eyes wild, pleading. “Luca, baby, please. You know me. We’re in love. You can’t let them do this to me.”

Luca looked at her as if she were a rotting corpse.

“I don't know you at all,” he whispered.

Within minutes, Daniel returned, carrying a heavy, black metal lockbox. He set it on the table in front of Teresa.

Teresa opened it.

Inside, neatly stacked, were the missing charity funds.

But more importantly, sitting on top of the money, was a thick manila folder.

Teresa opened the folder. “These are the blackmail materials Vanessa kept to ensure her safety in this house.”