Chapter 9 - THE HEAVY SAPPHIRE NECKLACE
The brilliant blue sapphires caught the harsh light of the kitchen, casting a mesmerizing glow across the walls.
I stared at the necklace, completely paralyzed.
“This is the Moretti Matriarch Necklace,” Isabella whispered, reverently stepping forward. “It’s been in our family for over a hundred years. Dad told us it burned in the fire.”
“He lied to protect your grandmother,” Aleksander explained gently. “Antonio knew Magda took it. He told her to keep it hidden. If Marcus knew the necklace survived, he would have hunted Magda down and killed her for it.”
I looked at my mother. She was crying softly, nodding her head.
“Your Babcia was so brave, Nattie,” my mother smiled through her tears. “She hid the necklace with Aleksander and made him promise to watch over you. To make sure you got it when it was safe.”
I reached out, my fingers trembling as I brushed the cold, heavy stones.
This belonged to the Morettis. It was their history, their legacy.
I picked up the velvet box and turned to Isabella.
“Here,” I said, holding it out to her. “This belongs to your family.”
Isabella looked at the necklace, then up at me. Her eyes were warm, filled with a profound gratitude that erased all the years she had spent looking through me as just a housemaid.
She gently pushed the box back toward my chest.
“No, Natalie,” Isabella said softly. “It belongs to the woman who saved my son. It belongs to the woman who saved my brother tonight. It belongs to you.”
I shook my head frantically. “Isabella, I can’t. It’s worth millions.”
“It’s priceless,” Luca corrected, stepping up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. “And Bella is right. My father would have wanted you to have it.”
I leaned back against his solid chest, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the night.
Marcus was in federal custody. The corrupt empire he had built was crumbling as we spoke. The shares of Moretti Manufacturing were safely back in Isabella’s name.
And most importantly, a mother and son had been reunited.
Leo was sitting on the couch, eating a sandwich my mother had made him, looking completely relaxed for the first time in his life. He was safe. He was loved. He was exactly where he belonged.
“Thank you,” I whispered, looking around the room at these incredible people who had suddenly become my family.
Aleksander smiled, tipping his hat. “My work here is done. Goodbye, everyone.”
He walked out the door, leaving us in the quiet peace of the apartment.
“Come on,” Luca said softly, turning me around. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes. We’re going back to the mansion.”
“I can’t go back to the mansion,” I laughed weakly. “I was fired tonight, remember?”
Luca’s eyes darkened, a playful smirk touching his lips. “I’m the boss. I say you’re rehired. But not as a maid.”
“As what, then?” I challenged.
He leaned down, his lips hovering inches from mine. “As whatever you want to be.”
Two weeks passed.
The transition was beautiful and chaotic. Leo moved into the mansion, taking the massive bedroom next to Isabella’s. The house, once cold and silent, was suddenly filled with laughter, the sounds of video games, and the smell of my mother’s Polish cooking.
Luca had insisted my mother move in as well, hiring top private doctors to manage her recovery. She was thriving, her cheeks pink and full of life.
And me?
I wasn't a maid anymore. Luca had given me a massive office at Moretti Manufacturing, putting my sharp mind and language skills to work overseeing their European shipping contracts.
Life was perfect.
Until the morning of the gala.
We were hosting a massive charity event at the mansion to officially announce Isabella’s return to the company and introduce Leo to high society.
I was in my new bedroom—a stunning suite down the hall from Luca’s—getting ready. I was wearing a breathtaking emerald green silk gown Luca had bought for me in Paris.
I opened the velvet box on my vanity to put on the sapphire necklace.
But my hands stopped mid-air.
Sitting next to the necklace in the box was a folded piece of heavy parchment paper.
It hadn't been there yesterday.
Frowning, I picked it up. My name was written on the front in elegant, sweeping calligraphy.
I broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter.
“Dearest Natalie,
If you are reading this, then you have worn my family’s necklace. But there is one final secret I must confess before I can truly rest in peace. Please, come to the conservatory immediately. Come alone.
— Isabella.”
My heart skipped a beat.
Why would Isabella send me a formal letter to meet in our own house? And what secret could possibly be left?
I hurried out of my room, holding the letter, and walked quickly down the grand staircase toward the glass-enclosed conservatory at the back of the mansion.
The room was filled with rare orchids and blooming roses. The moonlight filtered through the glass roof, casting eerie shadows across the marble floor.
“Isabella?” I called out softly, stepping into the humid air.
No answer.
“Isabella, I got your letter,” I said, walking deeper into the maze of flowers.
Suddenly, a cold, sharp laugh echoed from the corner of the room.
“Isabella didn't write that letter, you stupid girl.”
I spun around.
Stepping out from behind a massive fern was Vanessa Bellini.
She looked absolutely horrific. Her designer dress was torn, her hair was matted, and she smelled strongly of cheap vodka.
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But what terrified me wasn't her appearance.
It was the heavy, black revolver she was pointing directly at my chest.
