Chapter 11 - THE SHATTERED GLASS
The sound of shattering glass tore through the peaceful morning.
Luca was out of the kitchen before the final pieces hit the floor, his hand instinctively resting on the concealed weapon at his hip.
I grabbed Ellie, pulling her off the stool and stepping back behind the heavy marble island.
“Stay here,” I whispered frantically to my daughter.
I peeked around the corner into the grand hallway, my heart hammering in my chest.
There was no gunfight. There were no cartel hitmen breaking through the windows.
Instead, standing in the middle of the hallway, looking utterly mortified, was a young delivery boy holding an empty cardboard box. At his feet lay the shattered remains of a massive, incredibly ornate crystal vase.
Luca stood over the boy, his hand slowly falling away from his weapon.
“I am so, so sorry, Mr. Moretti,” the boy stammered, his face bright red. “The box was wet from the rain yesterday, and the bottom just gave out when I walked through the door. I swear I didn't drop it on purpose!”
Daniel and two guards rushed into the hallway, stopping short when they saw the mess.
Luca looked at the shattered crystal scattered across the expensive Persian rug.
It was a priceless antique. I knew that vase. It had been sitting on the pedestal in the foyer since the day I started working here. It was a family heirloom, passed down from Luca’s grandmother.
Richard would have exploded. If I had dropped a cheap water glass, Richard would have screamed, withheld money for a week, and made me apologize until my voice was hoarse.
I held my breath, waiting for the mafia boss to erupt.
Luca let out a slow sigh.
He looked at the terrified delivery boy, who looked like he was preparing to be executed.
“Are you hurt?” Luca asked calmly.
The boy blinked, shocked by the question. “N-no, sir. I'm okay.”
“Good,” Luca said. He turned to Daniel. “Have someone sweep this up. Give the kid a fifty-dollar tip for his trouble and send him on his way.”
The boy’s mouth fell open. “Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!”
Luca turned around and walked back into the kitchen, acting as if a priceless heirloom hadn't just been destroyed.
He sat back down on his stool, picked up his coffee mug, and took a sip.
I stared at him.
“You aren't angry?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Luca looked up, confused by my shock. “It was an accident, Claire. It's just a vase. Glass breaks.”
I felt a sudden, hot tear slide down my cheek.
I quickly wiped it away, embarrassed, but Luca saw it.
He set his coffee mug down and stood up, walking around the island until he was standing directly in front of me.
“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out and gently tilting my chin up so I had to look at him. “What's wrong?”
I shook my head, a watery laugh escaping my lips.
“Nothing,” I sniffled. “It's just... I spent seven years walking on eggshells, terrified of dropping a spoon because of what it would cost me. And you just watched a piece of history shatter on your floor, and you asked if the kid was hurt.”
Luca’s expression softened into something impossibly tender.
He understood. He understood the deep, invisible scars the trauma had left behind.
He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me gently against his chest.
“I'm not him, Claire,” Luca whispered into my hair. “I will never be him. In this house, you are allowed to make mistakes. You are allowed to break things. You are allowed to be human.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest, finally letting go of the last remnants of the fear I had carried for so long.
I cried, but they weren't tears of terror or sadness. They were tears of profound, overwhelming relief.
Luca held me tightly, his strong hands rubbing my back, anchoring me exactly where I belonged.
“Ew,” a tiny voice said.
We broke apart, looking down.
Ellie was standing by the counter, holding a half-eaten pancake and staring at us with a scrunched-up nose.
“Are you guys kissing?” she asked suspiciously.
Luca laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the kitchen.
“Not yet,” Luca smiled, looking down at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “But I was thinking about it.”
My cheeks burned hotly. I swatted his chest playfully. “Stop.”
Ellie rolled her eyes and went back to her breakfast.
Luca caught my hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
“I have to go into the city today,” he said, his tone turning slightly more serious. “I need to finalize the transfer of the Moreno territory with the Five Families. It's going to be a long meeting.”
“Be careful,” I said automatically, my protective instincts flaring.
Luca squeezed my hand. “Always. But I want to take you somewhere tonight. Just the two of us. To celebrate.”
My heart did a familiar, excited flutter. “A date?”
“The best date of your life,” Luca promised.
He kissed my forehead, ruffled Ellie's hair, and walked out the door.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of happy anticipation. Mrs. Carter helped me pick out a dress from the massive wardrobe Luca had ordered for me—a stunning, simple navy blue silk slip dress that made me feel incredibly elegant.
At seven o'clock, the doorbell rang.
I walked down the grand staircase.
But it wasn't Luca standing in the foyer.
It was a woman. She was impeccably dressed in a sharp gray pantsuit, holding a leather briefcase.
“Claire Bennett?” the woman asked smoothly.
“Yes?” I replied, my guard instantly going up.
“I am Eleanor Vance,” she said, handing me a heavy cream-colored envelope. “I represent Vanessa Bellini's legal trust.”
I froze, staring at the envelope as if it were a snake.
May you like
“What is this?” I demanded.
“It’s a letter,” Eleanor said coldly. “Vanessa asked me to deliver it to you before she reports to federal prison tomorrow morning. She said it contains information about Luca Moretti that you deserve to know before you make a terrible mistake.”
