THE SILVERWARE DRAWER

The silence in the study was so thick it felt like I was breathing underwater.

Luca Moretti didn't shout. He didn't slam his fist on the desk. He sat perfectly still, staring at the business card I had just exposed as a catalyst for a multi-million-dollar insurance fraud.

And the theft of his dead mother's legacy.

"She was going to stage a robbery," Luca said softly, his voice devoid of all emotion, which made it far more terrifying. "She was going to have my mother's real necklace replaced with the fake during the wedding reception, claim it was stolen, and collect the insurance payout."

I clutched my bandaged hand to my chest, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"Mr. Moretti, I'm sorry," I whispered, tears spilling over my lashes. "I shouldn't have been by the door."

"You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Nora," Luca said, his dark eyes finally breaking away from the desk to look at me. The icy fury in his gaze wasn't directed at me, but it still made me shiver. "You told the truth."

He stood up, towering over the desk. He walked over to the large oil painting on the far wall and swung it open, revealing a heavy steel wall safe.

He punched in the code. The heavy door clicked open.

Luca reached inside and pulled out a small, worn velvet box. The same box I had seen Vanessa holding in the office.

He brought it to the desk and popped it open.

Resting on the white satin was a breathtaking emerald and diamond necklace. It caught the dim light of the study, sparkling brilliantly.

"Daniel," Luca said into his phone, hitting the intercom button.

"Yes, Boss."

"Get my jeweler, Vincenzo. Wake him up. Tell him I need him at the estate in twenty minutes."

"Right away, sir."

Luca looked down at the necklace. He reached out and lightly touched the largest emerald in the center.

"My mother wore this when she married my father," Luca said quietly. "It’s been in our family for four generations. It’s worth over three million dollars."

He looked at my hand. "And Vanessa shattered your fingers to protect a fake."

"Mr. Moretti, if she finds out I told you—"

"She won't," Luca cut me off, his voice firm. "You are under my protection now, Nora. You don't serve another meal in this house. You don't lift another plate."

Before I could process what he was saying, the heavy study door handle began to turn.

I gasped, stumbling backward.

Luca slammed the velvet box shut and slipped it into his jacket pocket just as the door swung open.

Vanessa stood in the doorway. She had changed into a luxurious silk robe, her makeup perfectly removed. She looked like the picture of an innocent, exhausted bride-to-be.

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second when she saw me standing there, trembling.

"Luca, darling," she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "Why is the maid still in here? I thought she was dismissed."

"She was just leaving," Luca said smoothly, his expression betraying absolutely nothing.

"Good," Vanessa said, stepping into the room and moving toward Luca. "It's late, and tomorrow is a big day with the florist."

I didn't wait for permission. I hurried toward the door, keeping my head down.

As I passed Vanessa, she leaned in slightly, pretending to adjust her robe.

"Careful on the stairs, Nora," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "You never know when you might take a bad fall."

A cold terror washed over me.

I practically ran out of the study, hurrying down the back staircase to the servant's quarters in the basement.

My breathing was shallow and ragged. I needed to pack. I needed to get my eight-year-old son, Leo, and leave Chicago tonight. If Vanessa realized what I had told Luca, she wouldn't stop at slamming my hand in a door.

I reached my small, cramped room and locked the door behind me. I pulled my duffel bag from under the bed.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my apron pocket.