Chapter 6 - THE MAID AND THE MAFIA BOSS
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Benjamin threw his arms around his father’s neck, weeping openly against Luca’s expensive suit.
Luca wrapped both arms around the boy, holding him so tightly it seemed he would never let go.
Over Benjamin’s shoulder, Luca’s gaze shifted to me.
I immediately looked down at the floor, my hands clasped tightly together.
“Sir, I should go prepare the guest room,” I murmured softly.
“I will clean up the foyer right away.”
I began to stand, but a warm, firm hand caught my wrist.
I gasped and looked up into Luca’s dark, intense eyes.
“Do not apologize, Claire.”
His voice was thick with emotion.
“And do not dare clean this floor.”
He slowly released my wrist and looked down at Bruno, who was letting out a faint, painful whine.
“You stood between my boy and an armed kidnapper.”
Luca whispered, his jaw tight.
“You wrapped this dog in your own towel when my own wife threw him into the storm.”
“I’m just doing my job, Mr. Moretti,” I said, my voice barely audible.
“I promised your late wife on her final day that I would watch over Benjamin.”
Luca froze.
He stared at me as if seeing me for the first time in five years.
“You spoke to Isabella before she passed?”
I nodded gently, fresh tears stinging my eyes.
“She called me into her room the night before she went into the hospital for the last time.”
“She told me that men like you live in worlds full of smoke and gunfire.”
“She said Benjamin would need someone who remembered how to love without asking for power in return.”
Luca closed his eyes, a single tear escaping down his rugged cheek.
He reached out his hand and rested it on Bruno’s graying head.
The dog leaned into his touch, exhaling a deep, shuddering breath of comfort.
“Isabella was wiser than I ever deserved,” Luca murmured.
He opened his eyes and looked at the elderly retriever.
“Bruno is freezing.”
“His breathing sounds congested.”
“The rain got into his chest,” I explained, stroking the dog’s wet ears.
“He has severe arthritis in his hips, and his immune system can’t handle the damp cold.”
Luca immediately stood up, towering over us once more.
Without hesitation, he reached down and scooped the sixty-pound golden retriever into his arms.
He didn’t care about the mud, the wet fur, or the foul smell soaking into his thousand-dollar cashmere jacket.
He held the old dog gently, like a sleeping child.
“Benjamin, come with me,” Luca ordered softly.
“Claire, follow us upstairs.”
I blinked in confusion.
“Sir? The bedrooms are on the upper floor.”
Luca turned back at the base of the grand staircase, his eyes fierce and resolute.
May you like
“From tonight on, this dog sleeps in my room.”
“And nobody in this house will ever treat you like a servant again.”
