Chapter 9 - THE LIE THAT ALMOST DESTROYED MY LIFE|
By the next morning, my photograph was everywhere.
A Chicago entertainment website had published an article accusing me of stealing jewelry from the Moretti mansion.
Another claimed that I had manipulated Frank to gain access to the family fortune.
Then came the worst headline.
MAFIA BOSS'S YOUNG MAID ACCUSED OF BREAKING UP HIS MARRIAGE.
I stood in the mansion kitchen, staring at my phone.
My hands were shaking.
The article included photographs of me helping Luca carry Maria's dress.
Someone had taken them outside the storage room.
The caption claimed that I had been secretly removing valuable family possessions.
I felt sick.
I had worked hard my entire adult life.
I had never stolen anything.
I had never asked Luca for money.
And now strangers were leaving cruel comments about me beneath photographs I hadn't known existed.
Mrs. Ellis approached quietly.
"Claire, don't read any more."
I tried to smile.
"I'm all right."
But my voice betrayed me.
She pulled out a chair.
"Sit down, sweetheart."
I obeyed.
Then she placed a cup of tea in front of me.
"People who tell lies loudly often hope the truth will be too exhausted to answer."
I looked up.
"Did Mr. Moretti's mother say that?"
Mrs. Ellis smiled.
"No, dear."
"My own mother did."
For the first time that morning, I laughed.
Then Luca entered the kitchen.
He looked furious.
"Claire."
I stood immediately.
"Mr. Moretti, I can explain those photographs."
His expression softened.
"You don't have to explain anything."
"But the articles—"
"Are lies."
He placed his phone on the table.
"Vanessa's attorney sent the photographs to three publications."
My stomach dropped.
"She wants everyone to believe I stole from your family."
Luca nodded.
"And she wants investigators questioning your credibility instead of hers."
I looked away.
"Maybe I should leave."
The words hurt more than I expected.
Luca went still.
"Is that what you want?"
"No."
I swallowed.
"But I don't want to make things worse for your father."
Luca pulled out a chair.
"Listen to me."
I looked at him.
"You're the reason Dad is still alive."
"You're the reason we found Maria's letter."
"And you're the only person in this house who never stopped treating my father like a human being."
Tears burned my eyes.
"You don't owe me protection just because I work here."
His voice softened.
"I'm not protecting you because you work here."
He stopped.
For a moment, something passed between us that neither of us knew how to name.
Then Gabriel entered.
"Boss, Evelyn wants to speak with you."
Luca answered the call.
Evelyn had already contacted the publications and requested corrections.
The property records, dated evidence-handling logs, and original security footage contradicted the accusations against me.
But she warned that proving the articles false might take time.
After Luca left to meet her, I went upstairs to Frank's room.
The empty bed made my chest ache.
His favorite cardigan was folded on the chair.
His slippers remained beneath the nightstand.
Then I noticed something on the windowsill.
A small notebook.
I recognized Frank's handwriting.
The final entry had been written two nights before the projector incident.
Thursday. Vanessa angry. Man returned. Claire says I am not confused. Must tell Luca before it's too late.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
For weeks, Frank had been doubting his own memory.
But he had never doubted me.
I quietly placed the notebook inside the folder designated for materials Detective Alvarez was collecting.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered cautiously.
"Hello?"
"Enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame?"
Vanessa.
My stomach tightened.
"What do you want?"
She laughed.
"You're becoming rather important for a little maid."
"Your husband knows what you've done."
"Does he?"
Her voice turned cold.
"Tell me, Claire, have you ever wondered why Luca's own father was afraid to tell him the truth?"
I gripped the phone.
"Because you isolated him."
"That was part of it."
I went still.
"What do you mean?"
Vanessa lowered her voice.
"Luca has spent years surrounded by people who profit from his anger."
"And Raymond knows exactly how to use it."
"Then why did you help him?"
For a moment, she said nothing.
Finally, she whispered, "Because Simon promised we'd be free."
I heard something unfamiliar in her voice.
Regret.
But it disappeared almost immediately.
"Leave Chicago, Claire."
"No."
"Take whatever money Luca offers you and disappear."
"I'm not taking anything."
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"Then you're even more foolish than I thought."
She ended the call.
I immediately contacted Detective Alvarez and preserved the call details.
That evening, Frank returned home with medical supervision and strict restrictions on who could enter his rooms.
He looked stronger.
When he saw me, he held out his arms.
"My brave girl."
I knelt beside his chair.
"They're saying terrible things about me, Mr. Moretti."
Frank took my hands.
"People once said terrible things about Maria."
I looked up.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"When she opened the restaurant, some people said she was foolish for feeding strangers."
"But she told me something I've never forgotten."
His voice softened.
"A person who knows who she is doesn't have to become what other people call her."
I began crying.
Frank kissed my forehead.
Then he looked toward Luca, who was standing in the doorway.
"Son, I hope you understand what kind of woman is sitting beside me."
Luca nodded.
"I do, Dad."
That night, I found an envelope outside my bedroom door.
Inside was a single photograph.
Maria's Table.
The restaurant.
Someone had drawn a red circle around the front entrance.
On the back were five handwritten words.
Some memories deserve to burn.
Before I could call Gabriel, his phone rang downstairs.
I heard him shout.
Then Luca came running through the hallway.
"Claire!"
I stepped outside.
May you like
His face was pale.
"Maria's Table is on fire."
