Chapter 2 - THE SIGNATURE WAS NEVER MINE
The grand ballroom was so quiet I could hear the ice melting in the crystal glasses.
Ninety guests stared at the two pieces of paper in Mr. Harris’s trembling hands.
Matteo stood perfectly still, his dark eyes locked on his fiancée.
“Vanessa,” he repeated, his voice dangerously soft. “Why are six of my most loyal staff members listed for removal?”
Vanessa’s perfectly painted lips parted, but no sound came out.
She looked at the wealthy guests, then at the security chief, and finally at me. Her panic quickly morphed into a mask of offended dignity.
“I was trying to help you, Matteo,” she said, her voice trembling with manufactured tears. “Those employees are taking advantage of you. George is too old, and Emily…” She pointed a manicured finger at me. “Emily is insolent and unstable.”
Matteo didn’t blink.
“You forged my signature.”
“I had your assistant stamp it!” she cried defensively. “I am your future wife. I should have a say in how this household is run.”
“This isn’t a household, Vanessa. It’s my home. And these people are my responsibility.”
Matteo turned to the security chief. “Cancel the transport company. And cancel the caterers.”
Vanessa gasped. “What? Matteo, our guests—”
“The engagement party is over,” Matteo announced. His voice boomed across the marble walls. “Thank you all for coming. Please have a safe drive home.”
Murmurs erupted. Women gathered their expensive wraps; men hurriedly finished their drinks. The humiliation on Vanessa’s face was absolute.
As the room cleared, I knelt beside Bruno. The old dog opened one brown eye and thumped his tail against my knee.
“Emily.”
I looked up. Matteo was standing over me. The coldness in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a deep, weary gratitude.
“Take Bruno upstairs to my study,” he said gently. “Lock the door. Don’t let anyone in but me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I clipped the leash to Bruno’s collar and helped him to his feet. We walked toward the grand staircase, leaving Matteo alone with a furious Vanessa.
But as I reached the landing, I heard Vanessa hiss something that made my blood run cold.
“You think this is about a dog, Matteo? Wait until you see what your precious maid has been hiding in her bedroom.”
I froze.
Matteo’s voice was sharp. “What are you talking about?”
“I wasn’t going to fire her just because she’s insolent,” Vanessa sneered. “I was going to fire her because she’s a thief.”
She reached into her designer clutch and pulled out a small, faded photograph. Even from the stairs, I recognized it.
It was a picture of a little boy.
“Ask Emily why she has a picture of your late brother hidden under her mattress,” Vanessa said.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Matteo snatched the photo from her hand. He stared at it, then looked up at me, his eyes filled with sudden, violent confusion.
May you like
“Emily?” he whispered.
I didn’t wait. I turned and ran up the stairs.
