A DEBT HE DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT

The bathroom door began to swing open.

Luca didn’t panic. In one fluid motion, he snatched the train ticket from my hand, slipped it back into the coat pocket, and took a step toward me.

“And I want the silver polished by noon tomorrow,” he said, his voice instantly adopting the authoritative, mundane tone of an employer giving late-night instructions.

Vanessa stepped out, wrapped in a white silk robe, a towel wrapped around her wet hair. She stopped, her eyes narrowing as she saw me standing in the middle of her fiancé’s bedroom.

“What is going on here?” she demanded.

“Emma was just leaving,” Luca said smoothly. “I noticed a scuff on my oxfords. I was asking her to ensure the shoeshine kit is updated before Saturday.”

Vanessa’s gaze flicked to my swollen lip, then to Luca. “At ten-thirty at night?”

“I notice details, Vanessa. You know that.”

She offered a tight, unconvincing smile. “Of course, darling. Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Miss Bellini,” I murmured, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor as I hurried out.

I barely slept. At 5:00 AM, I woke Leo, gave him half a muffin I’d smuggled from the kitchen, and hid him in the laundry room behind the giant commercial dryers. It was the only place warm and noisy enough to mask his presence during the day.

At 9:00 AM, Mrs. Carter handed me a bucket of cleaning supplies.

“Deep clean the guest wing,” she ordered. “Miss Bellini has a friend arriving this afternoon.”

I dragged the supplies down the hall. Guest Room 4 had been designated for Vanessa’s maid of honor, who was supposedly arriving from New York.

I started dusting the nightstand. When I opened the top drawer to wipe it out, I felt something caught near the back track. I pulled the drawer entirely out.

Tucked behind the wood panel was a small velvet pouch.

I shouldn’t have opened it. But after last night, my instincts were screaming.

Inside was a heavy, antique silver rosary.

It wasn’t delicate. It looked old, masculine, and tarnished. Attached to the center medallion was a tiny, faded photograph, protected by a glass locket.

I squinted at the photo. It was a picture of a man holding a baby. The man had dark, deep-set eyes and a jagged scar across his chin.

He wasn’t Luca.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I dropped the rosary.

Vanessa was leaning against the doorframe, sipping a cup of coffee. She was fully dressed in a tailored white suit. Her eyes were cold.

“I... I was just cleaning the drawer,” I stammered, bending to pick it up.

She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

“You’re a very curious girl, Emma,” she said softly. “First the wine cellar. Now my personal belongings.”

“It was stuck behind the drawer. I was just—”

“Do you know what happens to girls who look too closely at things that don’t belong to them?” She set her coffee on the dresser. “They end up on the street. Without a job. Without a home.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice to a lethal whisper. “And the little boy they hide under their bed gets placed in the foster system.”

My blood turned to ice.

“Don’t you dare touch him,” I breathed.

Vanessa smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t have to touch him. I just have to make one phone call to Child Protective Services. An unemployed, single woman hiding an undocumented child in a basement? He’ll be gone in an hour.”

She picked up the rosary from the floor and snatched the pouch from my trembling hand.

“You will forget what you saw in the cellar. You will forget this rosary. And you will serve at my wedding with a smile on your face. Do we understand each other?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

She turned and left.

I sank against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I had to get Leo out of this house.

I finished my shift in a blur, rushing down to the laundry room at exactly 4:00 PM.

I pulled open the door, expecting to see Leo hiding behind the dryers with his coloring book.

The space was empty.

“Leo?” I whispered, panic rising in my throat.

Nothing.

I checked behind the carts. Under the folding tables. He was gone.

I sprinted down the hall toward the main house. If Mrs. Carter found him, I was dead. If Vanessa found him, we were both dead.

I turned the corner into the grand foyer and stopped dead in my tracks.

Sitting on the bottom step of the sweeping marble staircase was Luca Moretti.