Chapter 8 - The Confrontation in the Gallery
Before I could pull another document from the binder, the sharp click of heels echoed in the hallway outside the study door. My stomach dropped into a cold void. I shoved the binder back into the credenza, locked the brass latch with shaking fingers, and scrambled to my feet just as the heavy oak door swung inward.
Vanessa Bellini stood in the doorway, wrapped in a silk dressing gown over her undergarments, her hair still pinned in the elaborate updo from the dinner party. In the dim moonlight, her diamond necklace caught a sharp glint of white light. Her dark eyes narrowed as she spotted me standing beside the executive desk.
"What on earth are you doing in here, Emma?" Vanessa's voice was low, laced with a venomous calm that chilled me far more than a scream would have.
"I was checking the windows, ma'am," I lied, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady. "Mr. Moretti mentioned the latch in the west wing was sticking."
Vanessa stepped into the room, closing the distance between us with slow, deliberate strides. "At two o'clock in the morning? With a key ring in your hand?" She stopped two feet away from me, her gaze sweeping over my black uniform and white apron. "You think you're clever, don't you? A little girl from the valley trying to play detective for an old driver who couldn't accept his forced retirement."
"He didn't retire, and you know it," I said, finding a sudden surge of quiet courage that surprised even me. "I saw the transfer papers, Vanessa. I know what you're doing to this estate."
Vanessa didn't flinch. Instead, a cold, mocking smile touched the corners of her painted lips. "And who is going to believe a maid who sneaks around in the middle of the night? Luca is blinded by what he thinks we have. By the time he realizes the accounts are empty, we'll be halfway across the Atlantic, and you'll be looking for another cleaning job in some diner off the highway."
"Luca isn't as blind as you think," a deep voice cut through the shadows near the doorway.
May you like
Vanessa froze, her smile shattering instantly.
Luca stepped out from the dim alcove beside the bookshelves, fully dressed in his dark vest and shirtsleeves, his styled beard shadowing a jawline tightened into hard stone. He hadn't gone upstairs to bed at all; he had been standing in the adjoining reading room the entire time, listening to every word.
