Chapter 2 - THE SCENT OF PEPPERMINT AND LIES
The dining room felt as though all the air had been sucked out of it.
Luca didn’t move.
His dark eyes were fixed on his sister, but the dangerous silence radiating from him was entirely directed at Vanessa.
“Elena,” Luca said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, quiet register. “Tell me exactly what you remember.”
Elena clutched the edge of the paramedic’s stretcher.
Her face was paper-white, shining with cold sweat.
“It was three years ago,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Before my husband and I moved to the city. I was only nine weeks along.”
Vanessa stepped back, her red silk gown rustling loudly in the quiet room.
“Luca, she was devastated by the miscarriage. Her memory of that day is completely distorted.”
“Shut your mouth,” Luca said.
He didn't yell.
He didn't raise his voice.
But the absolute, lethal authority in his tone made Vanessa’s mouth snap shut instantly.
Luca knelt closer to Elena, gently taking her trembling hand. “I’m listening, sweetheart.”
Elena swallowed hard.
“I was having bad cramps. Vanessa came to visit me. She said she brought a special herbal tea from a holistic doctor to help settle my stomach.”
Tears spilled over Elena’s eyelashes, tracking through her makeup.
“It smelled like peppermint. I drank it because I trusted her. Ten minutes later, the pain became unbearable. The last thing I saw before I passed out on the bathroom floor was Vanessa standing over me.”
Elena choked on a sob.
“She was holding my phone, Lu. She didn't call 911 until I was already bleeding.”
A collective gasp rippled through the remaining engagement guests.
I felt physically sick.
As a housemaid, I was trained to remain invisible. But standing there, holding Elena’s expensive handbag, my hands began to shake with pure rage.
Vanessa’s face contorted. “That is a disgusting lie! I saved her life!”
Luca slowly stood up.
He walked toward his fiancée.
Vanessa instinctively backed away until her spine hit the edge of the grand mahogany dining table.
“You told me she lost the baby naturally,” Luca said softly.
“She did!” Vanessa cried, her eyes darting around the room, looking for an ally and finding none. “The doctors said it was natural!”
“Then why,” Luca asked, stepping into her personal space, “is my sister terrified of you?”
Vanessa opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“Why did you forge her signature on medical guardianship papers?” Luca continued, his voice like ice. “Why did you arrange to give her unborn child to her brother-in-law? A man who is supposedly living in California?”
Vanessa began to weep, manufactured tears designed to elicit sympathy.
“I did it for us, Luca! You work too much! I can't have children of my own, and Elena doesn't appreciate what she has! She’s weak!”
The slap of Luca’s hand hitting the dining table echoed like a gunshot.
Vanessa flinched violently.
“Get her out of my sight,” Luca ordered Daniel, his head of security. “Lock her in the east wing. If she tries to run, break her legs.”
“Yes, boss.”
Daniel grabbed Vanessa’s arm. She screamed and fought, kicking her expensive heels against the marble floor, but Daniel dragged her away as if she weighed nothing.
Luca turned back to the paramedics. “Take my sister to St. Jude’s Medical Center. I’m riding in the ambulance.”
He looked at me.
“Grace.”
I jumped slightly. “Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Go to the west study. Pack Vanessa’s personal belongings. I want every trace of her out of this house by tomorrow.”
“Right away, sir.”
I watched them wheel Elena out the front doors. Luca walked right beside her, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder.
The engagement dinner was officially over.
Ten minutes later, the mansion was eerily quiet. The guests had fled. The catering staff was cleaning in terrified silence.
I walked into the west study, the same room where Vanessa had locked Elena.
The room smelled of Vanessa’s expensive French perfume.
Her designer leather tote bag was sitting on the mahogany desk. I unzipped it, intending to dump her makeup and wallet inside and take it upstairs.
But as I pulled the bag open, my hand brushed against something cold and heavy hidden at the bottom.
I frowned, reaching deeper.
My fingers closed around a thick, masculine object.
I pulled it out and held it under the desk lamp.
My heart completely stopped.
It was a heavy, platinum men’s wedding band.
But it wasn't just any ring. I recognized the unique, braided design immediately. I had seen it every time Elena’s husband, Marco, came to the house for Sunday dinners.
Elena had said Marco was at work today.
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Elena had said Michael told her Marco was in an accident.
So why was Marco’s wedding ring zipped into the bottom of Vanessa’s purse, stained with a single, dried drop of dark blood?
