Chapter 2: The Secret Beneath the Bandage
Vanessa Bellini had always been good at pretending.
She could smile while delivering an insult.
She could compliment someone while making them feel smaller.
She could sit beneath a chandelier wearing diamonds worth more than most people's homes and make everyone believe she had never been afraid of anything.
But when Luca Moretti asked when I fell, I saw the crack.
Just for a second.
A tiny hesitation.
A pause too small for anyone else to notice.
But Luca noticed.
That was the dangerous thing about him.
He noticed everything.
"Vanessa?"" Luca asked.
The dining room remained silent.
The guests who had been laughing moments earlier were suddenly fascinated by their plates. Nobody wanted to be caught watching an argument inside Luca Moretti's house.
Vanessa recovered quickly.
Her fingers brushed against the red silk of her dress.
"Earlier this afternoon," she said smoothly.
"Around four.""
Luca's eyes stayed on her.
"And you were there?""
A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Of course I was there. I told you, she slipped while arranging flowers.""
"She slipped.""
"Yes.""
"On what?""
Vanessa blinked.
"What?""
"What did she slip on?""
The question seemed simple.
But I saw the tension move through the room.
Vanessa looked toward the flower arrangements covering the dining table.
"The cooler floor was wet.""
Luca nodded once.
Then he looked at me.
"Natalie.""
My heart jumped.
"Yes, Mr. Moretti?""
"Come here.""
I walked back slowly.
Every step hurt.
The pain medication had started wearing off, and my ankle felt like it had doubled in size inside my shoe.
Luca noticed.
Of course he did.
"How long have you been walking on that?""
I lowered my eyes.
"I don't know.""
"That's not an answer.""
I swallowed.
"Since this afternoon.""
A murmur moved through the guests.
Vanessa immediately spoke.
"She is exaggerating. Employees sometimes make injuries sound worse because they want sympathy.""
The words hit harder than I expected.
I looked at her.
She didn't even look embarrassed.
She looked annoyed.
Like my pain was an inconvenience.
Luca turned toward Vanessa.
"Is that what you think?""
His voice was quiet.
Vanessa smiled.
"I think you're letting this become dramatic.""
"Dramatic?""
The single word made her smile disappear.
Luca stepped away from the table.
"I asked a simple question. My employee is injured. I want to know why nobody told me.""
"Because it was an accident.""
"Accidents get reported.""
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"Not every small problem needs your attention.""
For the first time that evening, Luca looked genuinely irritated.
Not angry.
Something colder.
"Natalie has worked here for two years.""
Vanessa said nothing.
"She knows this house better than most people sitting at this table.""
His gaze moved briefly toward me.
"She doesn't create problems.""
I felt something tighten in my chest.
Because nobody had ever said that about me.
Not in front of powerful people.
Not when it mattered.
Vanessa noticed the change in the room.
She stepped closer to Luca.
"You're making this about me.""
"No.""
His eyes hardened.
"I'm trying to understand why you answered for her before she could speak.""
The silence afterward felt heavier than any shouting.
I looked down at the floor.
I shouldn't have been listening.
I shouldn't have been standing there.
Employees weren't supposed to witness conversations like this.
But I couldn't move.
Because for the first time, someone powerful wasn't assuming I was lying.
The kitchen was warmer than the dining room.
The noise from the guests faded behind the thick wooden doors.
I sat on a small chair near the preparation counter while Luca's personal assistant, Daniel, brought the first-aid kit.
I had seen Daniel hundreds of times.
He was always beside Luca.
Always calm.
Always dressed perfectly.
But tonight, even he looked uncomfortable.
"Mr. Moretti doesn't usually interrupt his own engagement dinner," Daniel said quietly.
I looked at him.
"Is that bad?""
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Depends who you ask.""
I looked away.
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen.""
Daniel opened the kit.
"That's usually what people say when something happens to them.""
I didn't answer.
He carefully removed my shoe.
I winced.
The swelling was obvious now.
Daniel frowned.
"Natalie, this isn't a minor injury.""
"I know.""
"Then why did you keep working?""
I almost laughed.
Because the answer felt too complicated.
Because people like Daniel probably had never had to choose between pain and losing everything.
Because rent didn't care about injuries.
Because bills didn't care if someone had been unfair.
"I needed the hours.""
He looked at me for a moment.
Then he wrapped the bandage around my ankle.
"You should have told Mr. Moretti.""
I stared at the white cabinets.
"I didn't think it would matter.""
Daniel stopped.
"What do you mean?""
I hesitated.
I had already said too much.
But something about the way Luca looked at me made me wonder if staying silent was actually protecting me anymore.
"I just do my job.""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Natalie.""
I looked at him.
"People in this house have different ideas about what their jobs are.""
Before I could ask what he meant, the kitchen door opened.
Luca walked in.
Alone.
Daniel immediately stood.
"Sir.""
Luca nodded.
"Leave us.""
Daniel glanced at me.
Then at Luca.
Without another word, he left.
The door closed.
And suddenly I was alone with the most intimidating man in Chicago.
I sat straighter.
"I'm sorry about tonight, Mr. Moretti.""
Luca walked toward the counter.
"Why are you apologizing?""
"Because I caused a scene.""
"No.""
He leaned against the edge of the table.
"Someone caused a scene. You were standing in it.""
I didn't know what to say.
His eyes moved to my ankle.
"Tell me what happened.""
My fingers tightened around the edge of the chair.
"I already told you.""
"You told me you slipped.""
"That's what happened.""
He studied me.
"Natalie.""
The way he said my name made it difficult to lie.
Not because he sounded threatening.
Because he sounded like he actually wanted the truth.
I looked away.
"Mr. Moretti—"
"Did Vanessa tell you not to say anything?""
The question froze me.
I didn't answer.
I didn't need to.
His expression changed.
Just slightly.
But I knew.
He had his answer.
"She threatened your job.""
My silence confirmed it.
Luca looked toward the closed door.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then:
"How long has she been treating you like this?""
My throat tightened.
"I don't know.""
"That's not an answer.""
I looked down.
"Since she started coming here.""
"And nobody reported it?""
I gave a small shrug.
"Who would I report it to?""
The question seemed to surprise him.
"You could have come to me.""
I almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was impossible.
"You are Luca Moretti.""
He stared at me.
"Meaning?""
"Meaning people like me don't just walk into your office and complain about people like Vanessa Bellini.""
For the first time, something changed in his face.
Not anger.
Not suspicion.
Something closer to understanding.
"People like you?""
I regretted the words immediately.
"I didn't mean—"
"I know exactly what you meant.""
The room became quiet.
Outside, I could hear distant laughter from the dining room.
The engagement party continuing.
The photographs.
The champagne.
The celebration.
While I sat in the kitchen with a swollen ankle, wondering if I had finally crossed a line I couldn't uncross.
Luca picked up the first-aid box.
Then he asked:
"Where did you fall?""
I looked at him.
"I told you.""
"In the flower cooler.""
"Yes.""
He stared at me.
"Then why is there no bruise on your arm?""
I frowned.
"What?""
"When someone falls hard enough to injure their ankle, they usually try to catch themselves.""
His gaze moved to my hands.
"Your palms aren't scraped.""
I said nothing.
"And your uniform...""
His eyes narrowed.
"...has dirt on the back, not the front.""
My heartbeat changed.
Because I suddenly understood.
He wasn't just asking questions.
He had already figured something out.
"You don't think I fell.""
"No.""
His answer came immediately.
"I think someone pushed you.""
The room seemed to stop.
I looked at him.
"No.""
"Natalie.""
"It was an accident.""
"Are you protecting her?""
I shook my head quickly.
"No.""
"Then who are you protecting?""
I opened my mouth.
But no words came.
Because the truth was worse.
I wasn't protecting Vanessa.
I wasn't protecting Luca.
I was protecting myself.
From what happened when powerful people decided someone had become inconvenient.
Luca stepped closer.
His voice lowered.
"Look at me.""
I did.
"If Vanessa Bellini hurt you, I need the truth.""
I whispered:
"Why?""
His expression was unreadable.
"Because if she did...""
He stopped.
A knock sounded at the kitchen door.
Both of us turned.
A nervous waiter stood outside.
"Mr. Moretti.""
Luca looked at him.
"What?""
The waiter swallowed.
"There is someone asking for Natalie.""
My stomach dropped.
"Who?""
The waiter looked between us.
Then he said:
"He said his name is Victor Brooks.""
My blood ran cold.
I hadn't heard that name in three years.
Because Victor Brooks wasn't supposed to know where I worked.
And he definitely wasn't supposed to know I was inside the Moretti mansion.
Luca's eyes moved back to me.
"Natalie.""
I couldn't speak.
"Who is Victor Brooks?""
I stared at the doorway.
May you like
Because I knew exactly why he was here.
And I knew Luca Moretti was about to discover the one secret I had spent years trying to bury.
