Chapter 1 - [THE MAFIA BOSS DISCOVERS HIS FIANCÉE'S SICK SECRET]
“Sit her down, Hannah. You're making a spectacle of her.”
Vanessa Bellini stood beside the dining table in a fitted red silk gown, watching me support seventy-eight-year-old Teresa Moretti as she took three careful steps.
Thirty-six guests sat beneath the crystal chandeliers.
Teresa's knees were trembling.
But she was smiling.
“Just one more, sweetheart,” she whispered to me.
Vanessa laughed.
“Oh, Teresa. You're not going to suddenly become twenty years younger because a maid holds your arm.”
The smile disappeared from Teresa's face.
“I'm only practicing.”
“For what? You're not walking down the aisle.”
The old woman stopped breathing for a moment.
Then she lowered her eyes.
“I know.”
Those two words made my stomach tighten.
Because I knew exactly what she'd been practicing for.
And I knew why she hadn't told her son.
My name is Hannah Collins. I'm twenty-five years old, and I've worked at the Moretti mansion in Chicago for eleven months.
I needed this job.
My mother was recovering from hip surgery, and every paycheck helped pay for the care she needed.
Vanessa knew that.
She'd warned me twice that I was spending too much time with Teresa.
But for the past five weeks, the old woman had been asking me to help her walk a little farther each afternoon.
Five steps.
Then seven.
Last Thursday, she managed twelve.
She was determined to walk beside Luca at his wedding.
Not because she wanted attention.
Because she'd made a promise to his father before he died.
“I carried that boy into church when he was baptized,” she told me once. “I'd like to walk beside him when he gets married.”
Now Vanessa was standing in front of her, telling her she wouldn't be allowed.
“Hannah.”
Vanessa pointed toward Teresa's chair.
“Sit her down.”
“Mrs. Moretti wants to finish.”
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
“Excuse me?”
“She's been practicing for weeks.”
“Oh, sweetheart. She's an elderly woman with bad knees, not a bride rehearsing her grand entrance.”
Several guests looked away.
Teresa's hand tightened around mine.
“It's all right, Hannah.”
But I could see her fighting tears.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“And if you keep encouraging her to embarrass herself, you can pack your bags tonight.”
I thought of my mother's bills.
Then I looked at Teresa.
And helped her take one more step.
A chair moved at the head of the table.
“Why is my mother walking around during dinner?”
Luca Moretti had stood.
Thirty-six years old. Dark hair. Black tailored suit.
Vanessa immediately smiled.
“Darling, she's insisting she can walk beside you at the wedding. Hannah keeps filling her head with impossible ideas.”
Luca looked at Teresa.
“Mom?”
She tried to smile.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
He approached her.
“Are you feeling all right?”
She nodded.
“Just a little tired.”
Luca offered his arm.
“Then sit with me.”
Teresa looked toward Vanessa.
And hesitated.
Luca noticed.
“Mom, what's wrong?”
The old woman's lips trembled.
“Nothing. I know it's your special day.”
He frowned.
“What special day?”
“Your wedding.”
Luca smiled gently.
“It's our family day too.”
Teresa's eyes filled.
“That's kind of you to say.”
His smile faded.
“Why wouldn't it be?”
Vanessa reached for his arm.
“Luca, please. We discussed keeping the ceremony simple.”
He looked at her.
“We did.”
“And your mother understands that walking down the aisle would be difficult for her.”
Luca turned toward Teresa.
“Mom, nobody said you had to walk alone.”
She stared at him.
Then whispered, “But Vanessa said I wasn't supposed to come.”
The room went silent.
Luca stopped moving.
“What?”
Teresa's hands began shaking.
“She said you'd rather remember me the way I used to be.”
Vanessa immediately interrupted.
“Teresa, that's not what I said.”
The old woman looked frightened.
Luca turned toward his fiancée.
“Did you tell my mother she couldn't attend our wedding?”
Vanessa sighed.
“I told her we were considering a quieter arrangement. She's been so unsteady lately.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Luca, are we really going to argue about seating arrangements in front of thirty-six guests?”
He didn't raise his voice.
“Mom is coming to my wedding.”
Teresa began crying.
And then she reached for me.
“Hannah, tell him what happened yesterday.”
My heart started pounding.
Because I'd been helping Teresa choose a dress when Vanessa entered her room.
She'd looked at the pale-blue silk Teresa had worn to Luca's first wedding.
Then she'd told her something I'd never forget.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “your mother was told she shouldn't wear her blue dress.”
Luca frowned.
“Why?”
I swallowed.
“Because Mrs. Bellini said people would stare at her walking aid.”
Vanessa snapped, “Hannah, you're finished here.”
Luca turned.
“No, she isn't.”
Two quiet words.
Vanessa went still.
Luca looked back at me.
“What else?”
I hesitated.
Teresa squeezed my hand.
“Tell him, sweetheart.”
My voice shook.
“Vanessa told your mother you would be embarrassed if your guests saw how much help she needed.”
For several seconds, Luca didn't speak.
Then he pulled out a chair.
Not for himself.
For his mother.
He placed it directly beside his own at the head of the table.
“Mom, sit here.”
Teresa began sobbing.
“Luca—”
“You've spent thirty-six years helping me stand on my own feet.”
He gently kissed her forehead.
“I think I can spend one afternoon helping you walk.”
Several guests quietly wiped their eyes.
Vanessa looked away.
But Teresa wasn't smiling.
She was staring at the little empty chair beside Luca.
The chair where his eight-year-old daughter, Sophie, usually sat.
“Sweetheart,” she whispered, “there's something else.”
Luca knelt beside her.
“What is it?”
Teresa looked toward Vanessa.
Then at me.
“She made Sophie promise something.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
“Teresa, don't.”
Luca slowly stood.
“What promise?”
The old woman swallowed.
“She told Sophie she had to make a speech at the wedding.”
Luca frowned.
“That's sweet. Sophie hasn't mentioned it.”
Teresa shook her head.
“No, sweetheart.”
Her voice broke.
“She cried when she practiced it.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Children get nervous, Teresa.”
But the old woman continued.
“She kept saying she didn't want to hurt my feelings.”
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“What was in the speech?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Just something about our new family.”
Teresa shook her head.
“That's not what Sophie told me.”
Nobody moved.
Then I remembered something.
Two nights earlier, I'd found Sophie sitting beneath the dining table after everyone had gone upstairs.
She'd been practicing a sentence over and over.
I'm ready to have a new mother.
But every time she reached the last word, she started crying.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “Sophie thinks she has to call Vanessa her mother during the ceremony.”
Luca's expression changed.
“What?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“I'm going to be her stepmother. There's nothing wrong with helping her accept that.”
Luca's voice became quiet.
“Did Sophie choose to do that?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
Teresa gripped his hand.
“Luca, she thinks you'll stop loving her if she refuses.”
The entire table fell silent.
Luca slowly turned toward Vanessa.
“Why would my daughter believe that?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“She misunderstood.”
Then a small voice spoke from behind my chair.
“No, I didn't.”
Sophie stood there in her pale-yellow dress.
Her eyes were red.
Luca immediately knelt.
“Sweetheart?”
The little girl looked at Vanessa.
Then at her grandmother.
“Daddy, I don't want Grandma to leave.”
Luca held out his arms.
“She isn't going anywhere.”
Sophie began crying.
“But Vanessa said she would.”
The room went completely still.
Luca looked up.
“What?”
Sophie wiped her cheeks.
“She said Grandma could only stay in our family if I made the speech exactly right.”
Vanessa went white.
Luca's voice dropped.
“What speech, baby?”
Sophie glanced toward his fiancée.
Then whispered:
“The one where I tell everybody I don't want to remember Mommy anymore.”
Nobody breathed.
Teresa covered her mouth.
Luca pulled his daughter closer.
“You never have to say that.”
But Sophie was shaking her head.
“Daddy, that's not the part I'm scared of.”
He stroked her hair.
“Then what is?”
The little girl looked at Vanessa.
“She said after the wedding, I have to tell you something bad about Grandma.”
Vanessa grabbed the edge of the table.
“Sophie, stop.”
Luca slowly stood, holding his daughter against him.
“What did she want you to say?”
Sophie buried her face against his shoulder.
Then whispered:
“That Grandma has been hurting me when you're not home.”
Teresa began sobbing.
Vanessa shook her head desperately.
“Luca, I can explain.”
But Luca was already looking at his daughter.
“Sweetheart, has Grandma ever hurt you?”
Sophie shook her head.
“No, Daddy.”
Then she looked toward Vanessa again.
“But she said somebody had to get blamed for what happened to me last Thursday.”
I felt my blood run cold.
Because last Thursday, Sophie had come downstairs with a swollen wrist.
Vanessa said she'd fallen while playing.
And Teresa had spent the entire night crying because she couldn't remember hearing her granddaughter fall.
Luca looked directly at Vanessa.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“What happened to my daughter last Thursday?”
Vanessa didn't answer.
Then Sophie lifted her trembling hand and pointed toward the person sitting beside Vanessa's father.
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“Daddy… ask him. He was there.”
TITLE: THE SCAR BENEATH THE DIAMOND WATCH
