Chapter 3 - The Uninvited Guest
The morning sun filtered through the high arched windows of the Moretti mansion's breakfast nook, casting long, pale lines across the white marble table. I was clearing away a silver coffee service when the heavy brass front door unlatched with a sharp click.
Vanessa Bellini didn't wait to be announced. She strode into the kitchen corridor wearing a cream-colored tweed coat over a high-necked silk blouse, her dark hair immaculate, her expression a mask of aristocratic fury. She stopped dead when she saw me standing by the counter with a linen cloth in my hand.
"You," Vanessa said, her voice sharp as glass. "Where is Moretti?"
"He's in the private study," I replied evenly, not backing down an inch.
Before I could move past her, Vanessa’s hand shot out, grabbing the edge of the marble island. "You think because you managed to drag some sob story into the dining room last night that your position here has changed? You're domestic staff, Emma. A common maid from a condemned block. Luca has a public image to maintain, and having a charity case serving ravioli while her grandmother cries on cue is a liability."
"I didn't cry on cue," I said, my voice cold and steady. "And if Mr. Moretti has a problem with my family, he hasn't mentioned it to me."
"He won't have to," a deep voice cut through the cool morning air.
Luca stood at the entrance of the kitchen corridor. He had already changed into a fresh black suit, his tie knotted perfectly, his expression a mask of absolute ice. He hadn't raised his voice, but the sudden drop in the room's temperature was palpable.
Vanessa spun around, her expression instantly shifting into something softer, more wheedling. "Luca, darling. I only came by to warn you. The board is already talking about the downtown acquisitions. If word gets out that you're halting a major demolition for a kitchen maid's relative, they'll think you're losing your edge."
"Let them think what they want," Luca said, stepping past her until he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me. The proximity was deliberate, a clear boundary drawn in the open air of the kitchen. "My business decisions are mine, Vanessa. And my household is not up for discussion by the board—or by you."
Vanessa stared at him, her dark eyes flashing with a sudden, dangerous realization. She looked from Luca to me, her lips thinning into a hard, white line.
"You're making a mistake, Luca," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed rage. "People like her don't belong in our world. They take, and then they destroy everything you've built."
She turned on her heel and walked out, the sound of her heels echoing sharply through the marble foyer. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind her, leaving a heavy, echoing silence in the room.
Luca didn't watch her leave. He turned his head slowly, looking down at me, his expression unreadable. "Get your coat, Emma."
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"My shift isn't—"
"Get your coat," he repeated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "We're going to see your grandmother's building."
