Chapter 8 - THE VELVET BOX
I stared at the velvet box sticking out of Luca’s pocket.
My chest tightened with a sudden, sharp ache.
Vanessa’s engagement ring was sitting on the floor in the hallway, discarded. But this was a new box. A different box.
Did he buy her another ring? A wedding gift? Even after everything, did a part of him still want to marry her?
I turned away, feeling foolish. I was just the maid. I had just been saved from financial ruin. I had no right to feel this sudden, crushing jealousy.
“Emily?”
Luca’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
He was standing up, carrying Nicholas in his arms. The ten-year-old had exhausted himself completely and was half-asleep on his father’s shoulder.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?” I said, keeping my eyes on the floor.
“Can you turn down Nicholas’s bed? I’m going to stay in here with him tonight.”
I nodded quickly, smoothing out the blankets and fluffing the pillows.
Luca gently laid his son down. Nicholas stirred slightly, reaching out his small hand.
“Emily?” Nick mumbled.
“I’m right here, sweetie,” I said, stepping closer.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his eyes closing. “For believing me.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. “Always, Nick.”
Luca walked me to the door.
The hallway was clear now. Michael and the guards had removed Dante. The chaos of the night was settling into a heavy, exhausted calm.
“Emily,” Luca said quietly, stopping me before I could walk toward the servant’s stairs.
I looked up.
He was standing incredibly close. The harsh lines of his face had softened, and without the suit jacket, with his sleeves rolled up to reveal the tattoos on his forearms, he looked less like a mafia boss and more like a deeply tired man.
“Thank you,” Luca said. “For protecting him. For standing up to Vanessa when I wasn't looking.”
“It was my job, sir,” I said, though my voice wavered.
“No,” Luca corrected, stepping closer. “Your job was to serve dinner. You protected my son like he was your own.”
I looked down, unable to hold his intense gaze.
“I should go clean up the dining room,” I muttered. “The guests—”
“Michael sent the guests home,” Luca said. He reached out and gently tilted my chin up so I was forced to look at him. “You aren't cleaning anything tonight, Emily. You're done working.”
My stomach plummeted.
The contract was torn up. My debt was paid.
He was firing me.
“I understand,” I said, stepping back quickly, my heart breaking. “I’ll pack my things in the morning. I know I’m a liability. With my father and—”
“Emily, stop.”
Luca grabbed my hand. His fingers were warm, rough, and remarkably gentle.
“I’m not firing you,” he said, looking genuinely confused. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you said I’m done working,” I whispered, fighting back tears. “And... and I saw the box in your pocket. The velvet one. I know you still have a wedding to plan, even if it’s not with Vanessa. You need a proper household staff, not someone with a messy past.”
Luca stared at me for a long moment.
Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. It was the first time I had ever seen him truly smile.
He let go of my hand, walked over to his discarded jacket, and pulled out the small velvet box.
He walked back and held it out to me.
“Open it,” he said.
My hands shook as I took the box. I expected to see a massive diamond. A replacement ring for a mafia bride.
I popped the lid open.
There was no ring.
Inside the box, resting on the velvet cushion, was a cheap, plastic token. It was shaped like a star, painted bright yellow, with a smiley face fading off the center.
I stared at it in confusion. “What is this?”
“It’s a prize from the arcade on Navy Pier,” Luca said softly.
My breath caught.
Six months ago, when Nicholas had a terrible week of adjusting to a new pair of hearing aids, I had begged Luca to take the afternoon off and come with us to the pier.
Luca had played a ridiculous water-gun game for twenty minutes just to win Nicholas that plastic star.
“Nicholas gave it to me that night in the car,” Luca explained, his eyes never leaving mine. “He told me it was his lucky star. And that I should keep it, so I would always remember how to smile.”
Luca took a step closer, erasing the space between us.
“I keep it in a jewelry box so I don't lose it. I carry it in my pocket when I have to do difficult things. Like tonight.”
I looked up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“It wasn't for Vanessa,” I whispered.
“Nothing in my life is for Vanessa anymore,” Luca said. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Emily, I don't want you as my maid anymore. I want you to stay, but not as an employee.”
Before I could answer, a loud crash echoed from downstairs.
Luca instantly pushed me behind him, his posture shifting back into the ruthless boss.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs.
It was Michael. He looked out of breath, holding a thick, dusty manila envelope.
“Luca,” Michael gasped. “When we were locking Dante in the basement... we found a hidden safe behind the wine racks. He gave up the combination.”
Luca frowned. “What’s in it?”
Michael held up the envelope. It was sealed with old wax.
“It’s a letter,” Michael said, his voice shaking. “From Mom.”
May you like
Luca froze. Their mother had died ten years ago.
“And Luca,” Michael swallowed hard, looking directly at me. “Her name is on the envelope.”
