Chapter 12 - The Rising Jealousy of Vanessa Bellini
The morning sun cast long, amber beams across the sprawling lawns of the Moretti estate, but inside the grand kitchen, the atmosphere was suffocating. I stood by the stainless steel counter, quietly drying a set of crystal wine glasses, while Vanessa Bellini paced across the Italian tile floor with her phone pressed tightly to her ear. She was speaking in sharp, clipped tones to someone downtown, her manicured nails clicking against the glass tabletop with every frustrated gesture. Ever since the disastrous engagement gala, Vanessa had watched Luca like a hawk, noticing every prolonged glance, every quiet instruction, and every instance where the feared mafia boss bypassed her authority to check on estate security operations—operations that invariably involved me.
"I don't care about their logistics, Arthur," Vanessa hissed into the phone, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Find out who cleared that maid's employment records five years ago. I want every background check pulled before noon." She snapped the phone shut and tossed it onto the counter, her cold blue eyes fixing directly on me. "You think you're clever, don't you?" she spat, crossing her arms over her red silk robe as she closed the distance between us. "Luca has been distracted ever since you opened your mouth about that wretched song. People like you don't belong in a house like this. You're a stain on his reputation, and mine."
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I kept my hands steady, polishing the rim of the glass with a linen cloth while meeting her gaze without flinching. "I am simply doing my job, Miss Bellini," I replied evenly, keeping my voice carefully devoid of the defiance burning in my chest. "If Mr. Moretti has concerns about the estate, that is a matter for him to address." My calm response only seemed to infuriate her further. Her face flushed a mottled red, and she took another step forward, invading my personal space with an air of aristocratic entitlement that masked a deep, festering insecurity. She could sense that Luca's absolute control was slipping, and she blamed me for every crack in her gilded cage.
When Luca walked into the kitchen a moment later, his dark suit jacket draped over his arm and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, the temperature in the room dropped instantly. He paused, his sharp eyes darting between Vanessa's rigid posture and my calm composure. "Is there a problem here, Vanessa?" his voice was low, carrying that unmistakable, dangerous authority that always silenced arguments before they could fully ignite. Vanessa spun around, her expression instantly shifting from fury to theatrical distress as she reached out to touch his arm. "Luca, darling," she purred, though her eyes remained venomous. "We need to talk about staffing. This girl is entirely unsuited for her position. For our future." Luca pulled back slightly, his jaw tightening as he looked at her with cold indifference. "My house, my rules, Vanessa. Drop it."
