Chapter 2
THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED HIS FIANCÉE DUMP A HANDFUL OF QUARTERS FROM MY MAID'S APRON ONTO HIS ENGAGEMENT TABLE—THEN SHE SAID, “SHE STOLE THEM FROM YOUR MOTHER'S BLUE SEWING TIN,” BEFORE ANYONE HAD EVEN ASKED WHERE THE MONEY CAME FROM.
“Empty your pockets, Hannah.”
Vanessa Bellini stood beside the dining table in a fitted red silk gown.
Twenty-eight guests turned toward me.
I was holding a silver tray of champagne glasses.
My hands began shaking.
“Please, ma'am. I haven't taken anything.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Then you won't mind proving it.”
Before I could move, she reached into my apron pocket.
A handful of quarters spilled across the white tablecloth.
One rolled toward Luca Moretti's dinner plate.
Another fell onto the marble floor.
Vanessa gave a satisfied little laugh.
“There. She stole them from your mother's blue sewing tin upstairs.”
Luca slowly lowered his champagne glass.
He looked at the coins.
Then at my trembling hands.
“From my mother's sewing tin?”
“Yes, darling. I knew something was missing.”
He picked up a quarter.
Turned it between his tattooed fingers.
Then asked a question that made Vanessa stop smiling.
“How did you know which tin the money came from?”
My name is Hannah Collins.
I was twenty-six, worked as a housemaid at the Moretti estate, and had never stolen so much as a dinner roll from that house.
But standing in front of twenty-eight wealthy strangers, with my pockets turned inside out, I suddenly felt like a criminal.
My cheeks burned.
My throat tightened.
And I could barely look at Luca.
Because the quarters really had come from his mother's sewing tin.
But I hadn't stolen them.
Seventy-eight-year-old Teresa Moretti had put them into my apron herself.
And she'd made me promise not to tell her son why.
It started that morning.
I was changing the sheets in Teresa's bedroom when she called from her sitting room.
“Hannah, sweetheart?”
I hurried over.
“Yes, Mrs. Moretti?”
She was sitting beside the window in her pale-blue cardigan.
Her silver hair was pinned neatly behind her ears.
And on her lap rested a small blue metal tin covered with faded white flowers.
I'd seen that tin many times.
She kept it beside her favorite armchair.
Inside were old buttons, a silver thimble, several needles, and a little collection of coins.
Teresa had been sewing since she was twelve.
She still repaired loose buttons on her son's shirts, even though Luca had offered to buy her a new sewing machine.
“Old hands like old habits,” she always told me.
That morning, she was counting quarters.
Carefully.
One at a time.
“Forty-six. Forty-seven. Forty-eight.”
I smiled.
“Are we saving for something special?”
She looked up.
Then laughed softly.
“Oh, Hannah. I suppose you could call it that.”
She tapped the coins.
“Antonio and I used to collect our spare change every week.”
Antonio was her late husband.
They'd been married forty-six years before he died.
Back when Luca was little, the Moretti family didn't have much money.
Antonio worked long hours repairing delivery trucks.
Teresa cleaned houses and took in sewing.
Sometimes their refrigerator was almost empty by Friday.
But every December, Antonio would empty the little blue tin onto their kitchen table.
And together, they'd count the coins.
Not for themselves.
For someone else.
“There was an old woman on our street named Mrs. Sullivan,” Teresa told me.
“She lived alone. Her husband had died, and her children were scattered all over the country.”
Teresa smiled sadly.
“Antonio used to say nobody should have to eat Christmas dinner alone.”
So every year, they took their saved change and bought groceries for Mrs. Sullivan.
A chicken.
Potatoes.
Fresh bread.
Sometimes a little cake.
“And when we had enough left,” Teresa said, “Antonio bought her a bunch of carnations.”
I laughed softly.
“That's beautiful.”
She touched the tin.
“After he died, I kept doing it.”
I looked at the coins.
“For Mrs. Sullivan?”
Teresa shook her head.
“She passed away years ago.”
Then her expression softened.
“But there are always people who need somebody to remember them.”
She reached for my hand.
“Hannah, would you help me with something?”
“Of course.”
She opened the tin.
Inside were seventy-three dollars in quarters and small bills.
She'd been saving them for months.
“I want you to take this to Mrs. Ellis.”
I frowned.
“Who is Mrs. Ellis?”
“A woman your Mr. Moretti's father used to know.”
Teresa smiled.
“She's eighty-four now. She lives in a little apartment near our old neighborhood.”
I nodded.
“And what should I buy?”
“Groceries.”
She paused.
“And a small bunch of yellow carnations, if there's enough.”
My eyes filled.
“Mrs. Moretti, I can ask Mr. Moretti to arrange a delivery.”
Teresa immediately shook her head.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated.
“Luca does so much for everyone already.”
Then she looked toward the window.
“I want to do one little thing myself.”
I understood.
She wasn't trying to hide anything from her son.
She simply wanted to feel useful.
Like the young woman who'd once counted pennies with her husband at the kitchen table.
So I smiled.
“I'd be happy to help.”
Her face brightened.
“Oh, thank you.”
She poured the coins into my apron pocket.
Then she gave me a small squeeze on the hand.
“Don't tell Luca yet.”
I laughed.
“Why?”
“I want to surprise him.”
She looked down at the tin.
“Antonio would have been so proud to know we're still doing this.”
I promised.
Then I went downstairs.
But I hadn't even reached the kitchen when Vanessa appeared.
She was wearing a fitted red gown and diamond earrings.
Her eyes moved toward my apron.
“What are you carrying?”
I stopped.
“Nothing important, ma'am.”
She frowned.
“I heard something rattling.”
I glanced down.
“Just some change.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Change?”
I nodded.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Where did you get it?”
My stomach tightened.
I remembered Teresa's request.
So I said, “It's for an errand.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
“An errand for whom?”
I hesitated.
“Mrs. Moretti.”
She folded her arms.
“Teresa gave you money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
I swallowed.
“Seventy-three dollars.”
Vanessa stared at me.
Then she laughed.
“Seventy-three dollars?”
I lowered my eyes.
“Yes, ma'am.”
She shook her head.
“Good grief. What does that woman think she's doing?”
I didn't answer.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Give it to me.”
I looked up.
“I'm sorry?”
“The money.”
My heart started pounding.
“Mrs. Moretti asked me to—”
“I don't care what she asked.”
I stared at her.
Vanessa's voice hardened.
“Teresa has been forgetting things lately. She shouldn't be handing cash to the staff.”
I swallowed.
“She knows exactly what it's for.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Does she?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Then why didn't she tell me?”
I couldn't answer.
She held out her hand.
“Hannah. The money.”
I thought about Teresa.
About the yellow carnations.
About the little blue tin she'd kept since her husband was alive.
And something inside me refused.
“I'm sorry, Miss Bellini.”
Vanessa's smile vanished.
“What?”
“I promised Mrs. Moretti I'd take care of it.”
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then she leaned closer.
“Let me explain something to you.”
Her voice became quiet.
“When Luca and I are married, the staff will answer to me.”
I swallowed.
“And I won't tolerate employees taking money from elderly relatives who don't understand what they're doing.”
My stomach dropped.
“Mrs. Moretti understands perfectly.”
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, ma'am.”
“Then be careful.”
She glanced toward my apron.
“Because if I decide to tell Luca you took money from his mother, who do you think he'll believe?”
I couldn't speak.
Vanessa smiled.
“Exactly.”
Then she walked away.
I stood in the hallway for several minutes.
Trying to steady my breathing.
My father had been struggling financially since his retirement.
I was helping him pay his mortgage.
Losing this job would've meant letting him down when he needed me most.
But I couldn't betray Teresa either.
So I kept the coins.
And went back to work.
At five thirty, I tried to speak to Mrs. Carter, the head housekeeper.
But Vanessa was already in the kitchen.
She gave me one look.
Then said, “Hannah, you'll be serving champagne tonight.”
I nodded.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“And keep your hands where the guests can see them.”
My cheeks burned.
I knew what she meant.
By six thirty, the mansion was full.
Crystal chandeliers.
White floral arrangements.
Gold chairs.
Twenty-eight guests in expensive suits and evening gowns.
And at the head of the table sat Luca Moretti.
Thirty-eight.
Dark swept-back hair.
Light stubble.
A tailored black three-piece suit with an open-collar black shirt.
Visible tattoos along his neck and hands.
He was calm.
Observant.
And the kind of man who noticed when an employee was having a difficult day.
That evening, he noticed me.
I was standing beside his chair when he looked up.
“Hannah, are you all right?”
My stomach tightened.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti.”
“You seem upset.”
I forced a smile.
“Just a busy evening, sir.”
He studied my face.
Then nodded.
“All right. Let me know if you need anything.”
I nearly cried.
Because I did need something.
I needed someone to tell Vanessa she couldn't threaten me.
I needed to know I wouldn't lose my job for helping an elderly woman buy groceries.
But I couldn't say any of that.
So I kept working.
Until dessert.
Until Vanessa stood up.
Until she looked directly at me.
“Hannah, come here.”
I approached.
“Yes, ma'am?”
She smiled at the guests.
“I'm terribly sorry, everyone. There's something unfortunate we need to address.”
My heart started pounding.
Luca turned toward her.
“Vanessa?”
She pointed at my apron.
“I believe one of our employees has been taking money that doesn't belong to her.”
The room went silent.
I couldn't breathe.
Then she held out her hand.
“Hannah, empty your pockets.”
I shook my head.
“Please, ma'am.”
Her smile hardened.
“Now.”
And before I could move, she reached into my apron.
Coins spilled across the table.
The sound seemed impossibly loud.
Quarters bouncing against crystal glasses.
Rolling across white linen.
Falling onto marble.
Twenty-eight guests watching.
And me standing there, humiliated.
Vanessa looked satisfied.
“There. She stole them from your mother's blue sewing tin.”
Luca stared at the coins.
Then at his fiancée.
“From the blue tin?”
“Yes.”
He picked up a quarter.
“How did you know that?”
Vanessa gave a small laugh.
“Because I saw her with it earlier.”
“With the tin?”
“Yes.”
Luca looked at me.
“Hannah, did you take money from my mother's bedroom?”
My throat tightened.
“Yes, sir.”
Vanessa immediately smiled.
“There. She admitted it.”
But Luca didn't move.
He looked at me.
“Did my mother give you permission?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Vanessa sighed.
“Oh, Luca, she says that now. Your mother's been getting confused.”
Luca slowly turned.
“Confused?”
“Yes. She's been giving things away without understanding their value.”
He looked toward the far end of the table.
Teresa sat quietly in her navy evening dress.
A small silver thimble rested beside her plate.
She'd been repairing a loose button on her cardigan before dinner.
“Mom?”
Teresa looked up.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Did you give Hannah some money today?”
She smiled.
“Oh, yes.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
Teresa continued.
“She was doing me a favor.”
Luca looked back at his fiancée.
“She gave it to Hannah.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“That doesn't mean she understood what she was doing.”
Teresa's smile faded.
“Of course I understood, dear.”
Vanessa looked irritated.
“Teresa, you can't just hand cash to the household staff.”
The older woman lowered her eyes.
“I wasn't giving it away.”
Luca turned toward her.
“What was it for, Mom?”
She hesitated.
Then looked at me.
I swallowed.
“It's okay, Mrs. Moretti.”
Teresa touched the little thimble.
Then whispered, “I wanted to buy someone groceries.”
The room went quiet.
Luca leaned forward.
“Groceries?”
She nodded.
“For Mrs. Ellis.”
He frowned.
“Mrs. Ellis?”
Teresa smiled sadly.
“Your father's old friend.”
Something changed in Luca's expression.
“Margaret Ellis?”
His mother nodded.
“Yes.”
He went still.
“I haven't heard that name in years.”
Teresa looked down.
“She turned eighty-four last month.”
Luca stared at her.
Then he asked quietly, “Mom, why didn't you tell me?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because I wanted to do it myself.”
He didn't answer.
She continued.
“Your father and I used to save our change for people who needed help.”
Her fingers trembled.
“I know seventy-three dollars isn't much to you, sweetheart.”
Luca's expression softened.
“But it was enough for us back then.”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“And I wanted to remember what that felt like.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Luca stood.
He walked around the table.
Stopped beside his mother.
And gently took her hand.
“Mom.”
She looked up.
“Yes?”
“Seventy-three dollars is plenty.”
Her chin trembled.
He smiled faintly.
“Especially when it's given with love.”
Teresa began crying.
I turned away before anyone noticed my eyes filling.
Vanessa put down her champagne glass.
“For heaven's sake, Luca. You're missing the point.”
He slowly turned toward her.
“What's the point?”
She gestured toward the coins.
“Your mother is vulnerable. Employees shouldn't be taking money from her.”
Luca studied her.
Then asked, “Did Hannah ask my mother for the money?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“I don't know.”
“Did she pressure her?”
“No.”
“Then why did you accuse her of stealing?”
Vanessa's smile tightened.
“Because she was acting suspiciously.”
Luca looked at me.
“Hannah.”
My stomach tightened.
“Yes, sir?”
“Did Vanessa ask you about the coins earlier?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That Mrs. Moretti gave them to me.”
Luca slowly looked toward his fiancée.
“You knew.”
Vanessa said nothing.
“You knew my mother gave Hannah the money.”
She folded her arms.
“I knew she claimed that.”
“And you still accused her of stealing in front of everyone?”
Vanessa's cheeks flushed.
“Luca, I was protecting your mother.”
He looked at Teresa.
The older woman was wiping tears from her cheeks.
Then he looked at me.
I was standing beside the table with my apron pockets hanging inside out.
And for the first time that evening, his expression hardened.
“Vanessa, you weren't protecting anyone.”
She stared at him.
“You were humiliating Hannah.”
Nobody moved.
Then Luca turned toward me.
“Hannah, I'm sorry.”
My eyes widened.
“Mr. Moretti—”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“You shouldn't have been treated this way in my home.”
My throat closed.
He reached toward the table.
Then started collecting the quarters.
One by one.
The most powerful man in the room.
Wearing a black suit worth more than three months of my wages.
Picking up loose change from a white tablecloth.
When he'd gathered the last coin, he placed them carefully in my hands.
“Finish the errand my mother gave you.”
I couldn't speak.
Then he added, “And take tomorrow morning off. You'll be paid.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“Thank you, sir.”
Vanessa gave an irritated laugh.
“Luca, this is absurd. You're rewarding her for hiding money in her apron.”
He turned toward her.
“No.”
He glanced at his mother.
“I'm thanking someone for respecting a promise.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
Then Teresa spoke.
“Luca?”
He turned.
“Yes, Mom?”
The older woman hesitated.
“Could I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
She looked toward Vanessa.
Then lowered her eyes.
“I don't think Mrs. Ellis has been getting her groceries.”
Luca frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Teresa swallowed.
“Vanessa said she arranged a delivery service for her.”
Vanessa went still.
His mother continued.
“She said I didn't need to worry about the shopping anymore.”
Luca looked at his fiancée.
“You arranged groceries for Margaret Ellis?”
Vanessa smiled tightly.
“Yes. I thought it would be easier.”
“When?”
“Several weeks ago.”
Teresa touched his hand.
“But Mrs. Ellis called me yesterday.”
Her voice trembled.
“She said nothing had arrived.”
Luca slowly turned toward Vanessa.
“What happened to the deliveries?”
Vanessa shrugged.
“There must have been a mistake.”
He studied her.
“Which company did you use?”
She hesitated.
“I don't remember.”
“Who paid for them?”
Vanessa looked annoyed.
“Luca, we're in the middle of dinner.”
He didn't raise his voice.
“Who paid?”
She looked away.
“I used the household account.”
The room fell silent.
Luca became very still.
Then he looked at Daniel, his head of security.
“Find out whether any grocery deliveries were ordered for Margaret Ellis.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Vanessa put down her glass.
“This is becoming ridiculous.”
Luca looked at her.
“An eighty-four-year-old woman may be going without groceries.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“And your mother has made it her personal responsibility to feed everyone from your father's old neighborhood.”
Teresa flinched.
Luca noticed.
He slowly turned toward his fiancée.
“What did you say?”
Vanessa sighed.
“Luca, your mother keeps giving money away. Someone has to put a stop to it.”
He looked at the blue sewing tin Mrs. Carter had just brought from upstairs.
Then at his mother.
“She saved that money herself.”
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“She's seventy-eight. She doesn't need to be counting quarters.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“She needs to be allowed to make her own decisions.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he looked directly at Vanessa.
“And so do my employees.”
Her smile disappeared.
Luca continued.
“You knew Hannah had permission.”
“Yes, but—”
“And you deliberately accused her of stealing.”
Vanessa stared at him.
He paused.
“Why?”
She couldn't answer.
Finally, she snapped.
“Because I'm tired of everyone in this house treating your mother's little projects as though they're more important than our wedding.”
Luca went quiet.
Then he looked toward Teresa.
She was carefully placing the coins back into her old sewing tin.
Her hands trembled.
Not because she couldn't count.
But because she'd just been made to feel foolish for trying to help someone.
Luca slowly removed his engagement ring from the velvet box beside his plate.
The ring he'd planned to present again during their formal toast.
He closed the box.
Then looked at Vanessa.
“I think we're done.”
Her face went pale.
“What?”
He didn't raise his voice.
“Our engagement.”
Vanessa stared at him.
“You're ending our engagement over seventy-three dollars?”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
He looked toward me.
“Because you tried to ruin an innocent woman's reputation.”
Then toward his mother.
“And because you wanted to make kindness look like something shameful.”
Vanessa opened her mouth.
But nothing came out.
Luca turned toward Daniel.
“Please arrange for Miss Bellini to leave.”
The room remained silent.
And for the first time that evening, I could breathe.
But before I left, Teresa caught my hand.
“Hannah, sweetheart?”
“Yes, ma'am?”
She looked down at the little blue tin.
Then whispered, “Will you still take the groceries tomorrow?”
My eyes filled.
“Of course.”
Her face brightened.
“And the flowers?”
I smiled.
“Yellow carnations.”
She nodded.
“Antonio always said yellow flowers made a room feel warmer.”
Luca smiled at his mother.
Then said quietly, “Mom, I'd like to come with you.”
Teresa looked surprised.
“You would?”
He nodded.
“I think Dad would want me to.”
She began crying again.
But this time, she was smiling.
Later that evening, after the guests had gone, I helped Teresa upstairs.
She carried the blue sewing tin against her chest.
We were halfway down the hallway when she suddenly stopped.
“Hannah?”
I turned.
“Yes, ma'am?”
Her expression had changed.
“I forgot to tell Luca something.”
I frowned.
“What is it?”
She looked down at the tin.
“Mrs. Ellis wasn't the only person Vanessa said she was helping.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you mean?”
Teresa swallowed.
“Three months ago, she offered to take over the grocery deliveries for twelve elderly people from our old neighborhood.”
I stared at her.
“Twelve?”
She nodded.
“She said she'd have everything sent directly to their homes.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“Did you give her money?”
Teresa lowered her eyes.
“Not from this tin.”
She hesitated.
“From the account Antonio and I started years ago.”
I felt cold.
“How much, Mrs. Moretti?”
The older woman's fingers tightened around the blue metal box.
“Forty-eight thousand dollars.”
I couldn't speak.
Then she looked toward the staircase, where Luca was speaking quietly with Daniel.
And whispered something that made my stomach drop.
“Hannah, Mrs. Ellis told me she's not the only one who stopped receiving groceries.”
I stared at her.
Teresa's eyes filled.
“Three of the women called me this week. They said the deliveries stopped in August.”
She swallowed.
“But Vanessa has been telling me every month that the bills were paid.”
I looked toward Luca.
Because suddenly, the seventy-three dollars scattered across his engagement table seemed very different.
May you like
Vanessa hadn't been trying to protect his mother from a dishonest housemaid.
She'd been trying to stop me from delivering groceries to a woman who might tell us where forty-eight thousand dollars had really gone.
