Chapter 2 - THE EMPTY GOLDEN HEART
The silence in the dining room was suffocating.
Thirty wealthy guests, including some of the most dangerous men in Chicago, sat frozen in their velvet chairs.
Nobody touched their champagne. Nobody even seemed to breathe.
Luca Moretti’s dark eyes were locked on Vanessa’s younger sister, Chloe, who sat trembling at the far end of the long table.
She was twenty-two, dressed in a designer gown, but right now, she looked like a terrified child caught stealing from a king.
Her hand slowly rose to her chest, her fingers hovering over the delicate gold locket that rested against her collarbone.
“Luca,” Vanessa stepped forward, her voice strained and falsely light. “It’s just a necklace. Chloe admired it, and I thought since Emma was getting a new mother, it was time to put away the older pieces. It’s a vintage style, anyway.”
Luca didn’t look at his fiancée.
He didn’t look at the guests.
He kept his eyes on Chloe and began walking down the length of the table.
His footsteps were heavy, measured, and completely silent against the Persian rug.
I stood near the kitchen doors, holding my breath. I had seen Luca angry before. I had seen him order men out of his house with a single whisper. But this was different. This was a quiet, devastating kind of rage.
Eleanor pulled Emma a little closer to her side.
“Take it off,” Luca said.
His voice wasn’t a shout. It was barely above a whisper. But it echoed through the massive room like a gunshot.
Chloe’s eyes darted to her mother, Vivian, who sat beside her. Vivian was a socialite who had pushed for this wedding since the day Nora died.
“Luca, please,” Vivian said, offering a tight, nervous smile. “Vanessa gave it to her as a gift. A sisterly gesture. There’s no need to make a scene in front of the Donati family.”
Luca slowly turned his head to look at Vivian.
“That necklace,” he said softly, “was placed around my daughter’s neck by my wife. While she was dying in a hospital bed.”
Vivian swallowed hard and looked down at her plate.
Luca turned back to Chloe. He held out his hand, palm up.
“Take. It. Off.”
Chloe burst into tears. Her shaking fingers fumbled with the tiny gold clasp at the back of her neck. It took her three tries, but finally, the chain slipped free.
She dropped the necklace into Luca’s large, scarred palm.
“I’m sorry,” Chloe sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I didn’t want to wear it! I swear I didn’t!”
Vanessa marched down the table, her face flushed with embarrassment and anger. “Chloe, stop crying! You’re embarrassing me.”
But Chloe shook her head violently.
“You forced me to!” Chloe cried out, her voice cracking. “You told me to wear it tonight to prove a point! To show that little girl that you were the one in charge now!”
A collective gasp rippled through the guests.
Vanessa’s face went completely pale. “You’re lying. Luca, she’s lying, she’s just jealous of me—”
Luca ignored her. He turned his back on his fiancée and walked slowly back to his daughter.
He knelt down on the floor again, right in his tailored suit, bringing himself to Emma’s eye level. He held the gold heart in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over the polished surface.
“Here, baby,” Luca whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Nobody takes Mommy’s things from you. Ever again. Let’s look at her picture together, okay?”
Emma nodded, wiping her wet cheeks. She reached out her small hands.
Luca pressed the tiny latch on the side of the heart.
The locket clicked open.
Luca froze.
Emma leaned in, her eyes wide. Then, her lower lip began to tremble.
“Daddy?” she whispered. “Where is Mommy?”
I felt a cold chill run down my spine.
I leaned forward to see.
The locket was completely empty.
The tiny, beautiful photograph of Nora holding a newborn Emma—the picture Emma kissed every single night before going to sleep—was gone. The inside of the gold heart was scratched and bare.
Eleanor let out a sharp gasp and covered her mouth.
Luca stared at the empty locket. The muscles in his jaw ticked. The veins in his neck pulled tight. When he looked up, the sadness in his eyes had been completely replaced by a terrifying, cold fury.
He stood up and faced Vanessa.
“Where is my wife’s photograph?”
Vanessa backed up, bumping into a waiter’s tray. Glasses clinked together. “I—I don’t know. It must have fallen out.”
“It doesn’t fall out, Vanessa. It was sealed behind glass.”
“I didn’t touch it!” she pleaded, her eyes darting around the room, desperate for someone to help her. But even her own mother was silent.
That was when Emma pointed a small, shaking finger toward Vanessa’s left hand.
“Daddy,” Emma whispered. “Why is she wearing Grandma’s bracelet?”
Everyone looked down.
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There, sparkling under the crystal chandeliers on Vanessa’s wrist, was a heavy silver charm bracelet. It was Eleanor’s most prized possession, a family heirloom passed down for three generations.
And Vanessa was wearing it.
