Chapter 2
The little brass key landed beside my dinner plate.
I looked at it, then at my husband.
Across the mahogany table, twenty-five members of the Moretti family watched as Julian placed his grandfather's old study key in front of Celeste Romano.
She wore a fitted red dress, diamond earrings, and the satisfied expression of a woman who believed she'd finally won.
“From tonight onward,” Julian said, “Celeste will handle the family correspondence and household affairs.”
I stared at him.
“I'm sorry. What?”
He didn't look at me.
“You've done enough, Evelyn. It's time someone else took responsibility.”
For seven years, I'd handled the Moretti family's private correspondence. I knew which relatives needed assistance, which employees had children in college, and which family matters were never discussed outside this house.
His grandfather had personally entrusted me with that responsibility before he died.
And now my husband was handing it to his mistress.
Celeste picked up the key.
“Julian and I have already discussed how much more organized things could become.”
A cousin suddenly became fascinated with his wineglass.
I looked at Julian.
“You're giving her your grandfather's study?”
“It's a key, Evelyn. Don't turn this into a performance.”
That sentence hurt.
Because I knew exactly what that key represented.
It opened the room where his grandfather had kept thirty years of family correspondence, handwritten instructions, and private records.
I had never allowed anyone outside the family to handle those documents.
Not even Julian's closest associates.
“I thought your grandfather wanted me to protect those records,” I said.
Julian finally raised his eyes.
“My grandfather isn't here anymore.”
Then his mistress smiled.
“Some traditions need to change.”
I felt twenty-five pairs of eyes waiting for me to react.
For years, I had made excuses for Julian's absences, his late-night calls, and the unfamiliar perfume that occasionally followed him home.
But this was different.
He wasn't merely betraying our marriage.
He was publicly removing me from the one responsibility his grandfather had trusted me to keep.
I pushed my chair back slightly.
“If she wants the responsibility, she should at least understand what she's being given.”
Celeste laughed.
“I assure you, I understand Julian's family perfectly.”
A spoon struck crystal.
Once.
Then again.
Nonna Adelaide Moretti, eighty-four years old, placed her napkin beside her plate.
“Celeste, put that key down.”
Celeste blinked.
“Nonna, I was only—”
“Put it down.”
Julian sighed.
“Grandmother, this has already been decided.”
Adelaide slowly rose.
“By whom? The woman sleeping with my grandson, or the wife his grandfather trusted?”
The room went silent.
Celeste's face flushed.
“I beg your pardon?”
Adelaide turned toward me.
“Evelyn, who maintained your grandfather's records after his stroke?”
“I did.”
“Who visited him every afternoon when his sons were too busy arguing about business?”
I swallowed.
“I did.”
“And who promised him that the private ledger would never leave this family?”
My eyes filled.
“I did.”
Adelaide turned toward Julian.
“Then explain why your mistress has been asking the housekeeper where that ledger is kept.”
Julian went completely still.
Celeste lowered the key.
“That's not what happened.”
Adelaide's voice sharpened.
“Then tell everyone why you asked which drawer contained the original family correspondence.”
Julian stood abruptly.
“Grandmother, stop talking.”
She looked at him with unmistakable disappointment.
“You have spent so long believing that power means nobody can question you. You've forgotten that trust is something you have to deserve.”
Then she reached for my hand.
“My granddaughter-in-law didn't marry this family for its money. She gave this family more loyalty than some of its own blood.”
Celeste pushed her chair back.
“I won't sit here and be insulted.”
Adelaide looked at her.
“Then perhaps you should have thought about that before trying to take a place that wasn't offered to you.”
Julian finally spoke.
“Celeste, give me the key.”
But Celeste didn't release it.
Instead, she looked directly at me.
“Evelyn, you really think I wanted that little room?”
My husband turned sharply.
“Don't.”
She continued.
“Your husband didn't give me that key because he trusts me with his grandfather's letters.”
My stomach tightened.
“Then why?”
Celeste smiled bitterly.
“Because there's something inside that room he desperately needs to find before his family meeting tomorrow.”
Adelaide's fingers tightened around mine.
“What are you talking about?”
Celeste looked at Julian.
May you like
Then she placed the brass key back on the table.
“Ask your husband why he's so desperate to find the letter his grandfather left behind—and why he never wanted Evelyn to read it.”
