Chapter 7 - Morning Light and Bitter Coffee
The morning sun cast pale, slanting beams across the industrial stainless-steel counters of the main estate kitchen. The frantic energy of the engagement gala had given way to a heavy, exhausted quiet. The other kitchen staff moved around me in tense silence, whispering among themselves about the sudden disruption I had caused near the grand piano the night before. Everyone expected my immediate dismissal. Heads of household staff usually didn't survive a public humiliation of a high-status guest like Vanessa Bellini.
I was scrubbing a heavy iron skillet at the triple sink when the heavy wooden service door swung open. Vanessa strode into the kitchen, her blonde hair pulled back into a severe updo, wearing a sharp silk wrap dress instead of her evening gown. Her diamond necklace gleamed coldly under the fluorescent lights. She didn't look at the other cooks; her sharp, glacial eyes locked directly onto me.
"You," Vanessa snapped, her voice cutting sharply over the hum of the commercial refrigerators. "You're still here? I specifically instructed head security to clear out the incompetent help before sunrise."
I turned off the faucet, drying my hands deliberately on a checkered dish towel before facing her. I kept my posture straight, remembering Luca's warning and my own resolve. "Mr. Moretti countermanded that order, Ms. Bellini. I am assigned to morning cleaning duties in the eastern wing."
Vanessa’s face flushed a mottled, ugly red. The insult of being overruled by her own fiancé over a mere maid stung deeper than any ordinary reprimand. "You think because Luca showed a moment of misplaced leniency that you have a place here? You ruined a multi-million-dollar engagement reception with your hysterical theatrics. I will see to it personally that your name is blacklisted from every estate, hotel, and private residence in this entire state."
Before I could formulate a calm, measured reply, a cool, authoritative voice cut through the doorway behind her.
"Leave the kitchen, Vanessa."
Luca stood in the doorway, his black suit jacket replaced by a simple charcoal knit sweater, his sleeves pushed up to reveal the dark ink curling up his forearms. He didn't raise his voice, but the absolute finality in his tone made Vanessa freeze in her tracks.
"Luca, that girl insulted my guests, ruined our evening, and—" Vanessa started, turning to him with a pleading, indignant expression.
May you like
"I said, leave the kitchen," Luca repeated, stepping past her with slow, deliberate movements. "Household personnel management is my domain. Go back to your suite."
Vanessa stared at him in sheer disbelief, her mouth parting slightly before she spun on her heel and stormed out, her heels clicking furiously against the tile floor. Luca watched her go, then turned his dark gaze toward me. He didn't smile, nor did he offer an apology. He simply gave a curt, almost imperceptible nod before turning back toward the hallway, leaving me alone with the silent, stunned kitchen staff.
