Chapter 2 - THE LIE THAT BROKE THE ENGAGEMENT
The ballroom felt like a tomb.
Thirty of Chicago’s most powerful people sat frozen at their tables.
No one touched their champagne.
No one whispered.
They were all watching Luca Moretti.
His dark eyes were fixed on the woman he was supposed to marry in three weeks.
“Explain,” Luca said.
His voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
Vanessa’s red gown suddenly looked too bright in the quiet room. Her polished confidence was cracking, her breathing shallow.
“Luca, darling, it’s a fake,” she stammered, stepping toward him. “Someone is playing a cruel joke. My mother never knew yours.”
Arthur Greene sat at the piano.
The old man didn’t look angry. He just looked tired.
“Your mother was Catherine,” Mr. Greene said softly. “She wore a silver locket. A half-heart. Lucia wore the other half.”
Vanessa spun toward the pianist.
“Shut up! You’re just a senile old man who—”
“Vanessa.”
Luca’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
He stepped closer to her.
He didn't yell. He didn't raise a hand.
He just reached out and hooked a finger under the high neckline of Vanessa’s red dress.
With a gentle, terrifying pull, he revealed the silver chain resting against her collarbone.
Hanging from it was a silver locket.
A half-heart.
The room gasped.
I gripped my serving tray so hard my fingers ached.
Luca stared at the jewelry.
“My mother’s half was stolen the night she died in that car crash,” Luca whispered. “The police said it was missing.”
Vanessa backed away, her hands trembling.
“Luca, please. I didn't know. I found it in my mother’s things. I swear.”
“You told me you grew up in New York,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “You told me you didn’t know who the Morettis were until we met at that charity gala.”
“I didn't!”
Luca looked at the sheet music in his hand. At the photograph.
“You targeted me.”
“No! I love you!”
“Get out of my house.”
Vanessa burst into tears. She looked around the room, begging the wealthy guests for sympathy. They all looked away.
She turned to me.
Her tear-streaked face twisted into something vicious.
“What are you staring at, maid?” she spat.
I stepped back, but she lunged forward, grabbing my wrist. Her nails dug into my skin.
“Don’t think you’re safe,” Vanessa hissed, her voice dropping so low only I could hear it.
“Let her go,” Luca commanded, stepping between us.
Vanessa released me, but her eyes never left my face.
She smiled a cold, desperate smile.
“You think I'm the only one keeping secrets, Luca?” Vanessa laughed bitterly. “Ask your precious little housekeeper why she really took this job.”
My heart stopped.
“I don't know what you mean,” I said, my voice shaking.
May you like
Vanessa leaned in.
“Ask her about her father. Ask her who was driving your mother's car the night she died.”
