Chapter 6 - THE HOUSEKEEPER'S SECRET
Mrs. Collins had been the housekeeper at the Romano estate for twenty years. She was the one who taught me how to fold Matteo’s shirts. She was the one who made Bruno’s special meals.
She was a sweet, maternal sixty-year-old woman.
Or so I thought.
“Marcus,” Matteo barked. “Find Mrs. Collins. Bring her to my study. Now.”
Ten minutes later, we were back inside the warm mansion.
I had taken Leo to the kitchen, wrapping him in Bruno’s blue blanket and making him a cup of hot chocolate. Bruno lay at the boy’s feet, resting his heavy chin on Leo’s sneakers. The boy stroked the dog’s soft ears, a tiny smile appearing on his face.
Leaving George the groundskeeper to watch over them, I hurried up to the study.
Mrs. Collins was standing in the center of the room. She was in her nightgown, her hair in rollers, looking terrified.
Matteo threw the train ticket onto his desk.
“Explain,” he demanded.
Mrs. Collins looked at the ticket. The color drained from her face. “Mr. Romano, please—”
“You bought this ticket to transport my nephew to an upstate facility three years ago,” Matteo said, his voice dangerously low. “You knew Vanessa’s family had him. You helped them hide him. Why?”
Mrs. Collins began to cry. She didn’t look at Matteo; she looked at me.
“I had to, Emily. You have to understand.”
“Understand what?” I asked, my heart pounding.
“Vanessa found out about my debt,” the older woman sobbed. “My husband left me with hundreds of thousands in gambling debts to the Chicago syndicate. Vanessa’s father paid it off. But in return, I had to be their eyes and ears inside this house.”
Matteo’s jaw clenched. “You sold out my family to save your own.”
“She told me the boy was safe!” Mrs. Collins pleaded. “She said they were just keeping him in a nice boarding school until the wedding was finalized! I didn’t know they were mistreating him, I swear to God!”
Matteo turned his back to her, staring out the window.
“Pack your things,” he said coldly. “You have one hour to leave this property. If I ever see your face in Chicago again, I won’t be merciful.”
Mrs. Collins sobbed, covering her face as she ran out of the room.
I stood in the silence, feeling a deep ache in my chest. The betrayal was suffocating.
Matteo leaned against his desk, running a hand through his dark hair. The sheer exhaustion on his face made him look five years older.
“I can’t trust anyone in my own home,” he whispered.
I walked over to him. I didn’t think about the fact that he was a billionaire boss and I was a maid earning twenty dollars an hour. I just saw a man who was hurting.
I placed my hand on his arm.
“You can trust me,” I said softly.
He looked down at me, his dark eyes searching my face.
“Why did you really come here, Emily?” he asked, his voice rough. “Just for Leo?”
“At first, yes,” I admitted. “But then… I saw the way you treated George. The way you slept on the floor with Bruno when he was sick. You’re not the monster the newspapers say you are.”
Matteo reached out, his warm fingers brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched.
“You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured.
He leaned in closer. I could smell his cologne, a mix of cedar and expensive whiskey. My heart hammered wildly.
But before our lips could meet, a scream tore through the mansion.
It was a child’s scream.
“Leo!” I gasped.
We ran out of the study and sprinted toward the stairs.
But as we reached the landing, the front doors burst open.
May you like
Standing in the entryway, surrounded by six armed men, was Vanessa’s father.
And in his hand, he held George by the throat.
