Chapter 2 - The Woman Behind the Name
THE MAFIA BOSS'S FIANCÉE SLIPPED MY WEDDING RING INTO HER CHAMPAGNE GLASS AND TOLD TWENTY-EIGHT GUESTS, “A THIEF'S WIFE HAS NO BUSINESS WEARING GOLD IN THIS HOUSE!”—BUT WHEN LUCA HEARD WHY MY HUSBAND WAS IN PRISON, HE RUSHED TOWARD ME, HIS EYES FILLING WITH TEARS. THEN HE ASKED VANESSA ONE QUESTION THAT MADE HER STOP BREATHING.
“Take it off, Rachel.”
Vanessa Bellini stood beside the dining table, pointing at the plain gold band on my left hand.
“Mrs. Bellini, please. It's my wedding ring.”
“I can see that.”
She smiled at the guests.
“But perhaps someone should explain that a uniform isn't an invitation to display stolen jewelry.”
My cheeks burned.
“My husband bought this ring twelve years ago.”
“Your husband is in prison, sweetheart. We both know what kind of man he is.”
Twenty-eight guests fell silent.
I tried to hide my hand beneath my apron.
Vanessa caught my wrist.
Before I could pull away, she slipped the ring off my finger and dropped it into her champagne glass.
The tiny splash made several guests turn.
“There,” she said. “Much more appropriate.”
My throat tightened.
“Please give it back.”
“After dinner. Assuming nothing else goes missing.”
My name is Rachel Bennett.
I'm thirty years old, and I've been working at Luca Moretti's Chicago mansion for four months.
My husband, Daniel, is serving a five-year prison sentence.
Eighteen months ago, someone accused him of stealing eighty-six thousand dollars from a charitable foundation.
He'd worked as a bookkeeper for eleven years.
Never missed a day.
Never even brought home office supplies that didn't belong to him.
But he pleaded guilty.
And I still didn't understand why.
Before sentencing, he made me promise two things.
Take care of our daughter.
And never contact the Moretti family.
I kept the first promise.
Tonight, I was about to break the second.
“Rachel!”
Vanessa snapped her fingers.
“Stop staring at my champagne and serve the coffee.”
I reached for the silver pot.
My hands were shaking so badly that the lid rattled.
“Honestly,” she laughed, “you'd think I'd taken something valuable.”
Then a chair scraped backward.
“Put the coffee down.”
Luca Moretti was standing at the head of the table.
Thirty-six years old.
Dark hair.
Black three-piece suit, with tattoos visible along his neck and hands.
He wasn't looking at Vanessa.
He was looking at my bare finger.
“Rachel, what happened?”
Before I could answer, Vanessa stepped forward.
“Darling, she was wearing inappropriate jewelry. I simply reminded her of the staff dress code.”
Luca glanced at the champagne glass.
“Is that her ring?”
Vanessa sighed.
“Don't make this dramatic.”
He hurried around the table.
“Rachel, are you all right?”
I shook my head.
And suddenly I couldn't stop crying.
Luca caught my shoulders before my knees buckled.
“Hey. I've got you.”
He guided me into a chair.
Then he knelt in front of me.
“Tell me what happened.”
“My husband gave me that ring on our wedding day.”
Luca's expression softened.
“Then nobody has the right to take it.”
He retrieved the ring from Vanessa's glass, dried it with his handkerchief, and placed it in my palm.
I closed my fingers around it.
“Thank you, sir.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Luca, surely you don't intend to defend the wife of a convicted criminal.”
He slowly stood.
“What criminal?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Her husband.”
“What did he do?”
“He stole from your family's foundation.”
Luca went still.
“My foundation?”
Vanessa looked away.
“The Moretti Family Relief Fund.”
Luca stared at her.
Then he turned toward me.
“Rachel, what's your husband's name?”
“Daniel Bennett, sir.”
His expression changed.
“Daniel Bennett?”
I nodded.
For several seconds, Luca didn't move.
Then he whispered, “He used to do the books for my father's charity.”
“Yes, sir.”
Luca pulled out the chair beside me.
“Your husband went to prison?”
My eyes filled again.
“Eighteen months ago.”
He looked genuinely shaken.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
Vanessa interrupted.
“Because it was handled by the foundation's attorneys. You were overseas when the investigation concluded.”
Luca slowly turned.
“Who filed the complaint?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“The foundation's financial director.”
“Who was that?”
She didn't answer.
Luca's voice rose.
“Vanessa, who was running the foundation when Daniel was arrested?”
She stared at him.
“I was.”
The room went quiet.
I watched Luca's face change.
He looked furious.
But there was something else.
Regret.
He sat beside me and took my trembling hand.
“Rachel, did Daniel ever tell you why he pleaded guilty?”
I hesitated.
“He said it was the only way to keep our family safe.”
Luca frowned.
“Safe from whom?”
“I don't know.”
Then I remembered something.
Something Daniel had said during my last prison visit.
“Mr. Moretti, my husband asked me a strange question last Sunday.”
“What question?”
“He wanted to know whether you'd married Vanessa yet.”
Luca's eyes moved toward his fiancée.
“What did you tell him?”
“That the wedding was next month.”
“And?”
“He started crying.”
Vanessa suddenly pushed back her chair.
“This is absurd. We're discussing a convicted thief at our engagement dinner!”
Luca stood.
“Sit down, Vanessa.”
She froze.
His voice trembled with anger.
“This woman has spent eighteen months raising a daughter alone while her husband sits in prison, and you humiliated her in front of everyone I know.”
He looked toward the guests.
“Not one of you thought to stop it?”
Nobody answered.
Then Mrs. Carter, the elderly housekeeper, stepped forward.
“Mr. Moretti, there's something you should know.”
Luca turned.
“What?”
“Rachel didn't apply for this job.”
My stomach dropped.
Vanessa's face went pale.
Mrs. Carter continued.
“Miss Bellini brought her here personally. She told me Rachel needed to work in the kitchen, away from the family.”
Luca looked at me.
“Rachel, is that true?”
I nodded.
“Vanessa offered me the position after Daniel's sentencing.”
His eyes returned to his fiancée.
“Why would you hire the wife of a man you accused of stealing from us?”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Then I spoke.
“Because she wanted me where she could watch me.”
Luca slowly turned.
“What do you mean?”
I swallowed.
“Three weeks ago, Daniel asked me to find out whether the foundation still had its old financial records.”
Vanessa grabbed the back of her chair.
“Rachel, don't.”
But I'd already started.
“He said the money wasn't stolen.”
Luca leaned closer.
“Then where did it go?”
My voice broke.
“He said someone transferred it to another account, and he was ordered to take the blame.”
Luca stared at Vanessa.
“Who ordered him?”
I shook my head.
“He wouldn't tell me.”
Then I remembered the last thing Daniel had whispered before the prison guard ended our visit.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Yes?”
“My husband said you weren't supposed to be the victim.”
Luca frowned.
“What does that mean?”
I looked directly at Vanessa.
“He said the money was only the beginning.”
Her face drained of color.
Luca slowly stepped toward her.
“Vanessa, what else did you do?”
She whispered, “You don't understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“Daniel was supposed to keep his mouth shut until after the wedding.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Nobody moved.
Luca stared at her.
“Why would my wedding have anything to do with his prison sentence?”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
And that was when I finally understood why Daniel had begged me never to contact the Moretti family.
Because the night before his arrest, he'd told me something I'd dismissed as exhaustion.
Something about Luca's late father.
And a promise made shortly before the old man died.
My hands started trembling.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “there's one more thing.”
Luca turned toward me.
“What is it?”
I swallowed.
“Daniel said your father discovered something about Vanessa before he died.”
Vanessa suddenly shouted, “Rachel, stop!”
But Luca was already kneeling beside me.
His eyes were wet.
“Rachel, please. Tell me.”
I held his hand.
And repeated the words my husband had made me memorize.
“Your father didn't leave the foundation to Vanessa. He left instructions that she was never to control it.”
Luca stopped breathing.
Then he looked toward his fiancée.
“Vanessa, my father died before I met you.”
She began shaking.
“I know.”
Luca stared at her.
“Then how did he know your name?”
Vanessa looked toward the elderly man sitting at the far end of the dinner table.
He had been silent all evening.
Until now.
Slowly, he stood.
May you like
And said five words that made Luca release my hand.
“Because she wasn't called Vanessa.”
