Chapter 9 - THE HEIRLOOM
I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip was firm. Gentle, but unyielding.
“Luca, no. I can’t take that. It’s your mother’s.”
“Exactly,” he said.
He turned my hand over and placed the cold silver watch into my palm.
“Mr. Caruso kept this safe for ten years to give it to the woman I would marry,” Luca said, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
I shook my head, my heart racing. “I’m your housekeeper, Luca. You just broke off an engagement thirty minutes ago. You’re in shock.”
“I am perfectly clear-headed,” he said smoothly.
He closed my fingers around the watch.
“Vanessa was a transaction. A mistake I almost paid for with my life. But you?” He smiled, a genuine, tired smile that made him look ten years younger. “You stood up to the boss of Chicago to defend an old woman in a cheap dress. You risked your life for a boy that isn’t even yours.”
“He feels like mine,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
Luca’s smile deepened.
“I know.”
From across the kitchen, Leo finished his eggs. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“Emma?” Leo called out.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Are you going to live upstairs now?”
I blushed furiously. I looked at Luca, completely out of my depth.
Luca didn’t hesitate.
“Yes, she is,” Luca answered for me.
He walked over to Leo and lifted him off the stool.
“But right now, you need to go to sleep. It’s way past your bedtime.”
Just then, the kitchen doors swung open.
Teresa Romano walked in. She had taken off her coat. The white corsage was slightly crushed, but it was still pinned proudly over her heart.
She looked at the three of us.
Me, holding the silver watch.
Luca, holding Leo.
Teresa smiled. It was the same proud smile she wore in all the photographs in the hallway.
“The police are gone,” Teresa announced. “Daniel is handling the mess in the dining room. And I found some flour in the pantry.”
Luca raised an eyebrow. “Aunt Teresa, you’ve had a long night. You don’t need to bake.”
“I run a bakery, Luciano. When I’m stressed, I bake. Besides, we have a celebration.”
She walked over and kissed Luca on the cheek. Then she turned to me.
She reached out and took my hands in hers.
“You have a good heart, Emma,” Teresa said quietly. “My sister would have loved you.”
Tears pricked my eyes again. “Thank you, Mrs. Romano.”
“Call me Aunt Teresa.”
She turned on the industrial oven.
“Now, go put that boy to bed,” Teresa shooed us away. “I’m making a cake. And yes, Luciano, it will have blue icing.”
Luca laughed. It was a beautiful sound.
He carried Leo out of the kitchen, and I followed them up the grand staircase.
We bypassed the service hallways entirely. We walked right up the main stairs, past the portraits of the Moretti ancestors.
We went into Leo’s massive bedroom.
Luca tucked him in, pulling the heavy comforter up to the boy’s chin.
“Uncle Luca?” Leo yawned, his eyes drooping.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Vanessa isn’t coming back, right?”
Luca leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“Never again. I promise.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, son.”
Luca stood up and walked over to where I was standing in the doorway.
He closed the door softly behind him.
We stood in the dim light of the hallway.
“I meant what I said, Emma,” Luca murmured, stepping close to me again. “You’re not going back to the basement tonight. You’re taking the guest suite on this floor.”
“Luca, people will talk. The staff—”
“I am the boss,” he interrupted gently. “I don’t care what people say. I care about what’s real.”
He reached out and traced the line of my collarbone.
“I want you to stay. As Leo’s mother. As my partner. I want to do this right.”
I looked up into his eyes. I saw the exhaustion, the danger, but mostly, I saw a man who just wanted his family to be safe.
I nodded slowly.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
He exhaled a long breath, like he had been holding it for three years.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.
It wasn’t a demanding kiss. It was soft, deeply grateful, and full of promise.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine.
But our quiet moment was shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps running up the marble stairs.
Daniel appeared at the end of the hallway, out of breath, holding a ringing cell phone.
“Boss,” Daniel panted.
Luca’s romantic demeanor vanished instantly. The mafia boss returned.
“What is it, Daniel?”
Daniel looked terrified.
“It’s Vanessa.”
Luca frowned. “I told you to give her to the police.”
“We tried,” Daniel swallowed hard. “But the convoy was hit on the highway. Two of our men are dead. The police didn’t even make it.”
Luca’s body went rigid.
“Where is she?”
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Daniel held up the ringing phone.
“She’s on the line, Boss. And she says she’s not leaving Chicago without her father’s territory.”
