**“SHE STOPPED BEING YOUR GRANDMOTHER WHEN YOUR MOTHER DIED,” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE TOLD HIS 10-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER—BUT WHEN I BROUGHT THE ELDERLY WOMAN INTO HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER CARRYING A HOMEMADE PEACH COBBLER, LUCA MORETTI STOOD UP AND ASKED, “WHY HAS MY LITTLE GIRL BEEN CRYING FOR HER GRANDMA EVERY NIGHT?”**

I didn’t sleep that night.

I sat on the edge of my narrow bed in the staff quarters, staring at the wall until the sun came up.

Vanessa had investigated me. She knew about my mother’s cancer. She knew about the crushing mountain of debt that I was drowning in. That was why she had always looked at me with that smug, untouchable smirk. She knew I could never afford to lose this job, which meant I would never dare to cross her.

Until last night, when I opened the dining room doors for Eleanor.

At exactly nine o’clock, I walked down the long, quiet hallway to Luca’s study.

The house smelled like fresh coffee and cinnamon. I could hear Emma’s bright laughter echoing from the kitchen, followed by Eleanor’s warm voice. It was a beautiful sound, one that had been missing for far too long.

I knocked on the heavy oak door.

“Come in.”

I opened the door and stepped inside.

Luca was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk. He was wearing a dark sweater, looking much more relaxed than the terrifying man from the night before. But his eyes were sharp.

The receipt from the private investigator was resting on the desk in front of him.

“Sit down, Claire.”

I sat in the leather chair opposite him, my hands tightly clasped in my lap to stop them from shaking.

“Mr. Moretti, I can explain,” I started, my voice trembling. “My mother has been sick for two years. The bills just kept piling up. I never brought my problems to work, I swear. I just needed the paycheck—”

Luca held up a hand, silencing me.

“Vanessa hired that investigator two months ago,” Luca said calmly. “Right around the time she started isolating Emma from Eleanor.”

He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together.

“Vanessa knew that if she started removing Nora’s memory from this house, you would be the only one who might try to stop her. You were close to Emma. You liked Eleanor. So she found your weakness.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “She pulled me aside one day. She told me that if I ever spoke to you about Eleanor, or about the things she was throwing away, she would have me fired instantly. She said she’d make sure I never worked in Chicago again. If I lost this job… my mom loses her treatment.”

A dark shadow passed over Luca’s face. “She threatened a dying woman’s care to cover her tracks.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, sir. I was just so scared.”

Luca sighed. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a thick, navy-blue checkbook.

My stomach dropped. This was it. He was giving me my severance. He was cleaning house, removing everything that had been tainted by Vanessa’s presence.

He picked up a gold pen and wrote for a few seconds. He tore the check from the book and slid it across the polished wood toward me.

“You’re not fired, Claire.”

I looked down at the check.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was made out to Saint Jude’s Hospital.

For fifty thousand dollars.

I looked up at him, completely paralyzed. “Mr. Moretti… I… I can’t accept this. This is too much. It’s—”

“It’s not from me,” Luca interrupted softly.

He gestured to the portrait of Nora that hung on the wall behind his desk.

“Before Nora died, she set up a private charity fund. It was specifically meant for families struggling with sudden medical debts. She wanted to help people who didn't have the resources we do.”

Luca smiled sadly.

“Vanessa tried to use your mother’s illness to break this family. I think it’s only right that Nora’s memory is used to save yours.”

A sob ripped from my chest. I covered my face with my hands, crying so hard my shoulders shook. The crushing weight of the last two years—the sleepless nights, the fear, the debt collectors calling at all hours—suddenly vanished.

“Thank you,” I gasped, unable to stop crying. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me,” Luca said, standing up. “Thank my wife.”

He walked around the desk and held out a small, silver object.

I wiped my eyes and looked at it.

It was a beautiful, vintage silver pin in the shape of a dove.

“Nora used to wear this when she volunteered at the hospital,” Luca said. “It was her favorite.”

He placed it gently into my hand.

“You protected my daughter last night, Claire. You protected Eleanor. You risked everything you had to do the right thing.”

He looked me in the eyes.

“From now on, you aren’t just a housekeeper. You are the estate manager of this house. Nobody gives you orders but me. Understood?”