Chapter 5 - The Monster in the Silk Gown
By 1:30 AM, the last of the bewildered guests had departed into the stormy night.
The grand mansion, which had been buzzing with hundreds of voices only hours before, now felt vast, cavernous, and impossibly quiet. The scent of extinguished candles and expensive perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the fresh dampness blowing through the open terrace doors.
I was down on my knees in the grand dining room, holding a damp cloth and trying to scrub the spilled red wine out of the hardwood floor near the head of the table. My body was screaming in exhaustion. Every muscle in my back felt like it had been shredded, and the sharp sting of the antiseptic was beginning to wear off.
"Emma."
I jumped slightly, dropping the rag into the bucket.
Luca was standing in the doorway. He had removed his suit jacket and tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt. He looked tired, the sharp lines of his jaw shadowed with dark stubble, but the terrifying aura that usually surrounded him was gone.
"What are you doing?" he asked, walking over.
"I'm cleaning the wine, sir. Mrs. Carter said the stain will set if—"
"Stand up."
I hesitated, then slowly pushed myself to my feet. "Mr. Moretti, it's my job—"
"Your job is to rest," Luca said firmly, taking the dirty rag from my hand and tossing it carelessly onto the mahogany table. "You have four stitches and a severe tissue contusion. You shouldn't even be standing."
"I have to work, sir. I need the hours. My mother—"
"Your mother's outstanding balance at Northwestern Memorial was forty-two thousand dollars," Luca said casually, pulling a folded receipt from his pocket and setting it on the table. "It was paid in full twenty minutes ago."
I froze. The room seemed to tilt. "What... what did you say?"
"I had my accountant wire the funds directly to the hospital's billing department," Luca continued, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "And I had her transferred to a private recovery suite on the top floor. She will have a private nurse around the clock for the next three months."
Tears sprang to my eyes, hot and overwhelming. My knees actually gave out.
Luca caught me before I hit the floor. His strong arms supported my weight, holding me securely without putting pressure on my injured back.
"Mr. Moretti... why would you do that?" I sobbed into his shoulder, completely unable to control the flood of emotion. "I'm just a maid. I didn't do anything—"
"You bled for an old dog that everyone else in this house considered disposable," Luca murmured, his voice rich and deep near my ear. "You stood up to a woman who had the power to ruin you, knowing you had everything to lose. In my world, Emma... loyalty like that cannot be bought with all the money in Chicago."
He helped me stand straight, keeping his hands on my forearms until he was sure my legs wouldn't buckle.
"Bruno is sleeping in my study," Luca said. "He won't eat his chicken unless you're in the room. He keeps looking at the door."
A small, watery laugh escaped my lips. "He's very stubborn."
"He gets that from my mother," Luca smiled faintly. "Come on."
We walked down the long corridor toward the private study. The fire in the large stone hearth was crackling warmly, casting golden light across the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and heavy leather armchairs.
Bruno was lying on a massive down comforter Luca had pulled off his own bed and laid out by the hearth. The old retriever’s tail thumped gently against the rug the moment we walked in.
I knelt down beside the dog, wincing slightly as I adjusted my posture. Bruno immediately rested his gray snout against my knee, letting out a deep, relaxed sigh.
Luca walked over to his desk, picked up a small porcelain plate with warm, roasted chicken strips, and brought it over. He handed me a piece.
"Go ahead," Luca said, sitting in the armchair beside us. "He's waiting for you."
I held out the chicken. Bruno took it from my fingers with unbelievable gentleness, chewing slowly before nudging my hand for more.
For the first time in twelve hours, the tight knot of terror in my chest completely dissolved.
"Mr. Moretti?" I asked, looking up at him while Bruno licked my fingers.
"Call me Luca, Emma. We are past the point of 'Mr. Moretti.'"
I swallowed hard, my cheeks warming slightly. "Luca... Vanessa won't let this go. Her father has powerful friends in the city council. And she is... she is vicious when she's humiliated."
Luca leaned back in the leather chair, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. His eyes turned dark and calculating once again.
"Vanessa Bellini thinks she was discarded because of a dog," Luca said coldly. "She doesn't realize that Daniel spent the last three hours going through the digital records we pulled from her personal laptop."
I looked at him, curious. "What did you find?"
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Luca leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"The Bellini family wasn't just trying to marry into my empire for status, Emma. Salvatore is thirty million dollars in debt to an offshore syndicate based out of Montreal. Vanessa was planning to have me poisoned three months after our wedding."
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