Chapter 1 - THE BANQUET TABLE
“Emma, remove that chair. I won't tell you again.”
Vanessa Bellini stood beside the banquet table in a fitted red gown, her diamonds glittering beneath the chandeliers.
Forty-six wealthy guests were watching.
Beside me stood eleven-year-old Lucy Moretti.
She wore a pale-yellow dress and held a little stuffed elephant against her chest.
She'd been standing for nearly ten minutes.
Because Vanessa had removed her place setting.
“Mrs. Bellini,” I whispered, “Miss Lucy hasn't eaten since breakfast.”
Vanessa smiled.
“Then she should have eaten upstairs.”
Lucy lowered her head.
“I can go, Emma.”
Something about her voice broke my heart.
My name is Emma Collins. I'm twenty-five, and I've worked at Luca Moretti's Chicago mansion for eleven months.
Lucy was adopted when she was four.
Her father had never treated her differently.
But since Vanessa moved into the mansion, the little girl's world had become smaller.
First, she couldn't join family photographs.
Then she wasn't allowed to call Vanessa by her first name.
And last Tuesday, I found Lucy sitting inside her closet, whispering to her stuffed elephant.
“Maybe Daddy would love me more if I looked like him.”
I'd held her until she stopped crying.
Now Vanessa was ordering me to remove her from the dinner table.
“Emma,” she snapped, “are you deaf?”
I pulled the chair out.
“Please sit down, sweetheart.”
Vanessa's expression changed.
“What do you think you're doing?”
“Giving Miss Lucy her seat, ma'am.”
“She doesn't belong at the head table.”
“She's Mr. Moretti's daughter.”
Vanessa laughed loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Adopted daughter, sweetheart. There's a difference.”
The room went silent.
Lucy's eyes filled with tears.
I felt her little hand slide into mine.
“Please don't say that,” she whispered.
Vanessa leaned toward her.
“Then stop pretending you're something you're not.”
I couldn't stay quiet.
“She isn't pretending. She's his daughter.”
Vanessa turned sharply.
“Who gave you permission to argue with me?”
“Nobody, ma'am.”
“Then apologize.”
I swallowed.
“I can't apologize for telling the truth.”
Vanessa grabbed the back of Lucy's chair and pulled it away.
The wooden legs scraped against the marble floor.
Lucy stumbled backward.
I caught her before she fell.
Vanessa pointed toward the staircase.
“Take her upstairs. And once you've packed your belongings, don't bother coming back.”
My stomach dropped.
My younger brother was finishing nursing school.
I'd promised to help with his tuition.
Losing this job would destroy everything I'd spent the year saving.
But Lucy was crying against my uniform.
So I knelt beside her.
“You haven't done anything wrong, sweetheart.”
That's when a deep voice came from the head of the table.
“Why is my daughter crying?”
Luca Moretti stood slowly.
Thirty-six years old.
Black tailored suit, dark swept-back hair, tattooed hands.
His expression was calm.
But nobody moved.
Vanessa immediately smiled.
“Darling, Emma has been encouraging Lucy's inappropriate behavior.”
Luca looked at the empty space beside his chair.
“Where's Lucy's seat?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“I thought she'd be more comfortable upstairs.”
“Did you ask her?”
“Luca, she's a child.”
He looked at Lucy.
“Sweetheart, come here.”
She didn't move.
Instead, she looked at Vanessa.
Luca noticed.
“Lucy, why are you looking at her?”
The little girl began trembling.
“Because she said I'd get in trouble if I told you.”
Luca walked toward her and knelt.
“Told me what?”
Lucy shook her head.
Vanessa interrupted.
“She's making things up again.”
Luca looked over his shoulder.
“Vanessa. Be quiet.”
Then he gently took Lucy's hands.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
Lucy whispered, “Vanessa said I'm only staying here until you have a real baby.”
The silence was unbearable.
Luca's face changed.
“What?”
“She said when you get married, you'll need the bedroom for your real daughter.”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“Luca, she's completely misunderstood—”
“Did you say that to her?”
No answer.
Luca stood.
“Did you tell my daughter she wasn't part of this family?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“I'm trying to help her understand reality. Blood matters in families like yours.”
Luca stared at her.
Then he pulled Lucy's chair beside his own.
“Sit here, sweetheart.”
Lucy climbed into it.
He kissed the top of her head.
“You're my daughter. Nothing will ever change that.”
I wiped my eyes.
But Lucy wasn't smiling.
She was staring at Vanessa with a frightened expression.
Then she whispered, “Daddy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Is my real mommy bad?”
Luca froze.
“Why would you ask that?”
Lucy looked down.
“Vanessa said that's why nobody ever talks about her.”
Luca slowly turned.
“Vanessa, what have you told her about her birth mother?”
Vanessa went pale.
“Nothing that isn't true.”
Lucy reached for my hand.
“Emma knows.”
Everyone looked at me.
My heart started pounding.
Because three days earlier, Lucy had shown me something.
Not a photograph.
Not a letter.
A woman standing outside the school gates, crying when Lucy called her name.
And I had recognized that woman.
I'd seen her inside the Moretti mansion before.
“Mr. Moretti,” I whispered, “someone has been coming to Lucy's school.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Who?”
I looked at Vanessa.
She was shaking her head.
“The woman Mrs. Bellini introduced to me as her sister.”
Luca went completely still.
Vanessa whispered, “Emma, don't.”
But Lucy suddenly looked up.
“Daddy, that lady told me she was my mommy.”
Luca gripped the chair.
“Vanessa, your sister told me she'd never been married and didn't have children.”
Vanessa said nothing.
Then Lucy asked the question that made her father turn white.
“Daddy, why did Vanessa tell my mommy she could have me back after your wedding?”
And for the first time, Vanessa stopped defending herself.
Because the woman she'd been keeping away from Luca wasn't a stranger.
She was the reason Vanessa had insisted on marrying him before Lucy's twelfth birthday.
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And when Luca demanded to know why that date mattered, Vanessa whispered:
“Because there's something about Lucy's adoption you were never supposed to find out.”
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