Chapter 7 - Moretti Estate at Night
The iron gates of the Moretti estate swung shut behind the black sedan with a heavy, metallic clang that echoed across the wet gravel drive. Inside the cavernous foyer of the main house, the crystal chandelier cast a cold, brilliant light over the Italian marble floors. Vanessa Bellini stood by the grand staircase, her weekender bag resting at her feet, speaking in a low, furious hiss into her encrypted satellite phone. Her red off-the-shoulder gown had been replaced by a sharp, tailored white pantsuit that looked like a suit of corporate armor.
"I don't care what the CEO's office says," Vanessa snapped into the receiver, her manicured fingernails tapping a rapid tattoo against the glass banister. "Call an emergency quorum of the board of directors for six o'clock tomorrow morning. Invoke Section Nine of the corporate charter. If Luca is letting personal sentiment interfere with the Maple Street clearance, the board has the legal authority to trigger an emergency vote of no confidence."
From the shadows of the arched hallway leading to the service pantries, Emma stood frozen, holding a silver tray of empty crystal decanters against her black apron. Her breath caught in her throat. She had slipped back into the mansion through the side staff entrance ten minutes before Luca’s return, hoping to vanish into her quarters before anyone noticed her absence. Instead, she had walked right into the middle of a war room.
"Yes, the development files are secured," Vanessa continued, pacing a small circle near the grandfather clock. "Luca thinks he can protect his precious mother and tear down our zoning agreements behind my back? He’ll find out what happens when you cross the people who actually finance his empire."
Vanessa snapped her phone shut with a sharp click that sounded like a pistol shot in the silent hall. She turned on her heel, her eyes sweeping across the dim corridor until they caught the faint flutter of Emma's black skirt near the pantry archway.
"You," Vanessa called out, her voice dripping with venom as she marched toward the doorway. "How long have you been standing there, little spy?"
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Emma forced her chin up, remembering the heavy wooden spoon resting on her kitchen table and the look in Mrs. Caruso’s eyes at the diner. She kept her face completely blank, channeling every ounce of calm she possessed. "I was clearing the evening service tray from the east wing drawing room, Miss Bellini. I didn't hear anything."
"See that you don't," Vanessa said, stepping close enough for Emma to catch the sharp scent of expensive perfume and cold fury. She reached out and gripped the edge of Emma's white collar, twisting the fabric just enough to remind the young housekeeper who owned the roof over her head. "Because if you repeat a single word of what you just heard to Luca—or to anyone else—you won't just be out of a job. You’ll be looking for work in a town where no one will ever dare to hire your name."
