tenacity

Chapter 3 - The Broken Trust

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The grand dining room emptied faster than smoke through an open window.

When Salvatore Bellini realized Luca was not bluffing, he ushered his daughter toward the foyer with a silent, murderous glare.

Vanessa turned back once, her eyes blazing with hatred as she locked eyes with me.

“You will regret opening your mouth, little maid,” she hissed under her breath.

Luca did not even look at her; his eyes were already scanning the hallway security.

Within fifteen minutes, the heavy oak front doors slammed shut, echoing through the cavernous mansion.

Only family and house staff remained in the marble hallway.

Teresa sat back down in her velvet dining chair, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

I immediately brought her a glass of warm water, kneeling on the rug beside her knees.

Luca stood above us, his tie pulled loose, the collar of his dress shirt undone.

He looked down at me, his gaze searching and unreadable.

“Hannah.”

“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”

“How long has Vanessa been intercepting my daughter’s mail?”

I looked up at him, my throat dry as sandpaper.

“Since the day after your mother came home from the rehabilitation hospital.”

Luca’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.

“That was four months ago.”

“Every single morning, Mrs. Moretti would sit at the kitchen island,” I explained softly.

“She would spend an hour trying to form letters with a thick marker because her fingers couldn’t grip a regular pen.”

Teresa reached down and gently touched my hair.

“Hannah stayed with me after her shift was over, Luca.”

“She didn’t get paid for those hours,” Teresa added, her voice cracking.

Luca’s eyes softened as he looked down at his mother.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Mom?”

“Because Vanessa told her you were going through an audit with the state,” Michael’s voice cut in from the doorway.

Michael was leaning against the archway, holding a glass of Scotch.

His expression was a mixture of defiance and cornered panic.

“Vanessa was trying to keep the house calm, Luca.”

“By convincing our mother that her own family despised her?”

Luca stepped toward his brother, every inch the ruthless head of the syndicate.

“And what about the man coming on Friday, Michael?”

Michael took a sip of his drink, trying to appear unbothered.

“It was just Dr. Mercer.”

“Dr. Mercer is an estate-planning attorney, not a neurologist,” Luca said coldly.

Michael’s glass froze halfway to his lips.

“Who told you that?”

“I know every attorney who works in Cook County,” Luca said.

“Now tell me why Mercer was scheduled to evaluate our mother’s mental capacity without my knowledge.”

Michael looked at the marble floor, unable to meet his brother’s gaze.

“Because you wouldn’t make the hard decision.”

“What decision?”

“Mom needs full-time medical supervision!”

Michael slammed his glass onto a side table.

“She leaves the stove on! She forgets where she put her jewelry!”

“Because your fiancée stole it from her room!”

I spoke before I could stop myself.

The words flew out of my mouth like bullets, echoing across the vaulted ceiling.

Michael rounded on me, his face red with sudden rage.

“Shut your mouth, you peasant!”

Luca moved so fast his shadow blurred across the wall.

Before Michael could take another step toward me, Luca had him pinned against the doorframe by his collar.

The sound of Michael’s back hitting the wood was loud and violent.

“Talk to her like that again, and I’ll break your jaw,” Luca warned in a voice that chilled the room.

“Luca, please,” Teresa wept from her chair.

“Please don’t hurt your brother.”

Luca did not release his grip.

“Hannah, go to my mother’s sitting room.”

I stood up quickly, smoothing down my black housekeeper’s apron.

“Yes, Mr. Moretti.”

“Find whatever she told you about.”

Michael’s eyes widened in sudden terror as he realized what I was going to retrieve.

“No! Luca, don’t let her touch those papers!”

Luca leaned in closer to Michael’s face, his grip tightening.

“Run, Hannah.”

May you like

I didn’t hesitate for a second.

I turned on my heel and sprinted up the sweeping marble staircase toward Teresa’s private suite.

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