Chapter 4 - THE HOUSEMAID WHO NOTICED THE LIE|
By three in the morning, Gianna was sleeping in the guest suite at the Moretti mansion.
Luca had personally carried her suitcase upstairs.
He had also ordered the kitchen staff to prepare her favorite breakfast for when she woke.
But downstairs, in his private office, nobody was thinking about breakfast.
The eviction notice lay across his desk.
Beside it were the forged signature, the photograph of the moving truck, and the mysterious letter from his father.
Evelyn Mercer, the Moretti family's longtime attorney, stood beside the fireplace.
She was a gray-haired woman in her sixties who had known Luca since he was a teenager.
And she looked deeply troubled.
"Your aunt's house was placed in a family trust years ago," she explained.
"Your father arranged for her to live there for the rest of her life."
Luca leaned forward.
"Then how could anyone evict her?"
"Someone filed documents claiming she voluntarily surrendered that protection."
"Those documents are fraudulent."
"They appear to be," Evelyn replied.
"But appearances aren't enough."
"We need proof, and we need to stop the removal immediately."
I stood near the door, wondering whether I should leave.
Then Evelyn turned toward me.
"Claire, you're the one who noticed the handwriting difference?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What else did you notice?"
I thought carefully.
"The letter sent to Mrs. Gianna had Luca's initials embossed on the paper."
"That's the stationery kept in his private office."
Luca looked up.
"Yes."
"But there's something else," I continued.
"Your personal stationery is cream-colored."
"The paper in Mrs. Gianna's letter was white."
Evelyn reached for the envelope.
She examined it beneath the desk lamp.
"She's right."
Luca frowned.
"Does that matter?"
"It means someone may have ordered stationery using your initials rather than taking it from your office."
Evelyn turned the envelope over.
There was a tiny mark near the bottom.
A gold-embossed manufacturer's symbol.
I recognized it immediately.
"That's from the wedding stationery company."
Vanessa had insisted on ordering custom invitations, place cards, and thank-you notes from an exclusive Chicago designer.
I'd spent three evenings helping the wedding planner sort the deliveries.
And I'd seen that exact symbol on every box.
Luca looked at me.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, sir."
"The company also supplied the personalized writing paper Vanessa ordered for your wedding gifts."
Evelyn carefully placed the envelope inside a protective sleeve.
"That gives us somewhere to start."
Luca stared at the forged letter.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then he said, "I married a woman who used my name to threaten the person who raised me."
Evelyn's voice softened.
"We don't yet know everything she did."
Luca looked at her.
"We know enough."
At that moment, the office doors opened.
Vanessa walked in wearing a silk robe.
Her makeup was gone, but her expression was as cold as ever.
"I see we're holding a family meeting without me."
Luca didn't stand.
"Where were you when my aunt's house was being emptied?"
Vanessa sighed.
"I was at our wedding reception."
"Where else would I be?"
"Did you authorize Patrick Doyle to enter her home?"
"Patrick handles property transitions."
"So that's a yes."
Vanessa glanced at me.
"Why is the maid here?"
Evelyn answered before Luca could.
"Because she identified evidence relevant to a possible fraud investigation."
Vanessa laughed.
"Evidence?"
"From Claire?"
"She's a housemaid, Evelyn, not a detective."
I felt my face grow hot.
I'd heard wealthy people speak to me that way before.
Usually, I lowered my eyes and said nothing.
But tonight, I remembered Gianna sitting in that expensive ballroom, apologizing for a dress she'd worn with dignity.
So I lifted my chin.
"Mrs. Moretti, you don't need a law degree to recognize paper you've handled for three evenings."
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
Luca looked toward me.
And something changed in his expression.
Not surprise that I could speak.
Something closer to respect.
Vanessa folded her arms.
"This is ridiculous."
"I arranged for that house to be renovated."
"Gianna is almost eighty."
"She needs somewhere safer."
Evelyn studied her.
"Did Gianna consent to the renovation?"
"She was difficult."
"That's not an answer."
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"You people are acting as though I committed a crime because I tried to improve a miserable little property."
Luca stood.
"That miserable little property contains the kitchen where my aunt fed me when my parents couldn't afford groceries."
"That house was never yours to improve."
Vanessa approached him.
"Darling, you don't understand how much the neighborhood is worth."
Then she stopped.
Too late.
Luca watched her.
"What did you just say?"
Vanessa looked away.
"Nothing."
"You said the neighborhood."
"Not the house."
Evelyn slowly closed her folder.
"Is Bellini Renewal Group acquiring other properties on Taylor Street?"
Vanessa said nothing.
The silence answered the question.
Luca stepped toward her.
"How many?"
"You're overreacting."
"How many homes have you targeted?"
She raised her voice.
"I have spent months building something that could make both our families richer!"
"And you are throwing it away over one sentimental old woman!"
A door creaked behind us.
Gianna stood in the hallway.
She wore her faded blue dress beneath the jacket Luca had placed around her shoulders.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
But her voice was steady.
"I'm not sentimental, Vanessa."
"I'm a person."
Vanessa looked startled.
Gianna stepped into the room.
"I know what your family wants."
Luca moved toward her.
"Auntie, you should be resting."
She shook her head.
"Your father tried to stop them years ago."
Evelyn stared at her.
"Stop what, Gianna?"
The old woman looked at the letter on Luca's desk.
"The Bellinis weren't interested in one little house."
"They wanted the entire street."
Luca's expression darkened.
"Why didn't Dad tell me?"
Gianna closed her eyes.
"Because he thought keeping you away from them would keep you safe."
Before anyone could ask another question, Vanessa's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
I saw the caller's name before she turned it over.
DOMINIC BELLINI.
Her father.
Vanessa hurried toward the hallway.
But as she passed me, she leaned close enough that only I could hear.
"You should have stayed out of this, Claire."
I didn't answer.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
"Tomorrow morning, everyone in this house will find out what kind of girl you really are."
She walked away smiling.
I stood frozen beside the door.
I didn't know what she was planning.
But I knew one thing.
May you like
Vanessa had just threatened me.
And she had made sure nobody else heard.
