Chapter 2 - THE ENGAGEMENT RING ON THE TABLE
The silence in the dining room was absolute.
Twenty-eight guests held their breath.
No one touched their champagne. No one looked away.
Emma’s question hung in the air, heavier than the crystal chandeliers above us.
“If I help Vanessa get rid of everything Mommy left me, will you promise you won't stop being my daddy after the wedding?”
Luca didn’t move.
He stayed kneeling on the hardwood floor, his hands still gripping his daughter’s small shoulders.
I watched his chest rise and fall.
Once. Twice.
When he finally looked up at Vanessa, the expression on his face made my blood run cold.
It wasn’t anger.
Anger is loud. Anger is something you can argue with.
This was a terrifying, hollow calm.
“Luca,” Vanessa whispered, taking a step back. “She’s confused. I didn’t say it like that.”
Luca stood up.
He didn’t yell. He didn’t make a scene.
He simply reached for Emma’s hand and held it tightly in his own.
“Dinner is over,” he said to the room.
His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried to every corner of the long table.
Several guests shifted uncomfortably.
Teresa, his mother, slowly placed her cloth napkin beside her plate. She didn’t look surprised. She looked relieved.
Vanessa’s face flushed deep red.
“Darling, please,” she forced a laugh, looking at the wealthy investors and family friends seated around them. “You’re embarrassing us. It’s just a misunderstanding over a sweater.”
Luca turned to her.
“You told my daughter she had to erase her mother to earn her place in this house.”
“I told her we need to make room for our future!” Vanessa countered, her voice rising in panic. “I’m trying to build a family with you! Elena has been dead for two years, Luca. You can’t keep this house a museum forever.”
Luca looked at her hand.
At the massive three-carat diamond glittering on her left ring finger.
“Take it off.”
Vanessa froze.
“What?”
“The ring,” Luca said, his voice dropping an octave. “Take it off. Put it on the table.”
A collective gasp rippled through the guests.
Vanessa’s eyes widened in genuine shock. “Luca, you can’t do this in front of everyone. We’re getting married in six weeks. The press is outside.”
“Take it off, Vanessa.”
She crossed her arms, her manicured nails digging into her red satin gown.
“No. You’re being irrational because of a child’s manipulation. I won’t let her ruin our night.”
Before Luca could step forward, Emma squeezed his hand.
She was trembling violently.
“Daddy, don’t fight. I’ll pack the boxes. I promise I’ll pack them.”
Luca’s eyes filled with tears. He looked down at his terrified little girl, realizing that fighting with Vanessa right now was only traumatizing Emma further.
He scooped Emma into his arms.
He didn’t look at Vanessa again.
“Rachel,” he said, looking at me.
“Yes, sir.”
“Come with us.”
I followed him out of the dining room, leaving twenty-eight guests and a furious fiancée in stunned silence.
We walked up the grand staircase. The heavy oak doors on the second floor were shut, except for one at the end of the hall.
Elena’s room.
Luca carried Emma inside. I stepped in behind them and flipped on the lights.
My heart stopped.
The room was already dismantled.
Half of Elena’s beautiful silk dresses were thrown haphazardly into heavy black trash bags. Her vanity mirror was stripped of its perfumes. The handmade quilts she’d painstakingly sewn were piled on the floor like garbage.
Vanessa hadn’t just told Emma to pack.
She had already started erasing Elena before the dinner even began.
Luca stood in the center of the room, holding Emma against his chest. A ragged breath tore from his throat.
“She didn’t even wait,” he whispered.
Emma buried her face in his neck, crying softly.
I immediately started pulling the dresses out of the trash bags, my hands shaking. I couldn’t stand seeing Elena’s things treated like this.
As I moved toward the vanity to replace the perfumes, I noticed something wrong.
The heavy, velvet-lined cedar jewelry box sitting on the edge of the table was open.
And the inner lining was slashed.
“Mr. Moretti,” I said quietly.
Luca turned.
He set Emma down on the armchair and walked over to the vanity.
He stared at the slashed velvet.
Someone had taken a knife to the hidden compartment at the bottom of the box.
Luca reached into the torn fabric. His hand came out empty.
“It’s gone,” he whispered.
Emma peeked over the arm of the chair. “What’s gone, Daddy?”
Luca looked at me, his face pale.
“The silver locket. The one Elena’s father gave her. She kept it hidden in that compartment because the clasp was broken.”
Answer one: Vanessa was already tearing the room apart.
Open two: Why would she slash a hidden compartment? How did she even know it was there?
Before I could speak, a shadow moved in the doorway.
Vanessa stood there, her red dress perfectly smoothed, a dark look in her eyes.
“Looking for something?” she asked coldly.
Luca turned to her. “Where is my wife’s locket?”
Vanessa smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes.
“I sent it to the jeweler this morning to be polished,” she lied smoothly. “I thought it would make a nice wedding gift for Emma.”
It sounded like a perfect excuse.
But as Vanessa gripped the doorframe, I saw something slide out of the deep pocket of her satin dress.
A heavy, silver chain dangling toward the floor.
May you like
She was lying.
And she wasn't just trying to erase Elena. She was trying to steal something very specific from her.
