Chapter 1 - The Daughter at the Door
THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE ORDERED ME TO PUT HIS PREGNANT DAUGHTER IN A CAB BEFORE THEIR ENGAGEMENT DINNER—BUT WHEN I WALKED HER INTO THE DINING ROOM, LUCA MORETTI DROPPED HIS FORK AND WHISPERED, “YOU’RE HAVING A BABY?”
“Get her out of here before Luca sees her.”
Vanessa Bellini stood at the service entrance in a red silk gown, staring at the young woman beside me.
Emily Moretti was twenty-seven.
She wore a simple navy dress beneath an old wool coat.
One hand rested protectively over her stomach.
The other held a small gift bag.
She was very obviously pregnant.
“Mrs. Bellini,” I said carefully, “she’s Mr. Moretti’s daughter.”
“I know exactly who she is.”
Emily lowered her eyes.
“I can leave.”
Vanessa gave a thin smile.
“That would be best.”
Then she looked at me.
“Claire, call her a cab.”
My name is Claire Dawson.
I was twenty-nine and had worked as a housekeeper in Luca Moretti’s Chicago mansion for almost a year.
I knew plenty of people were afraid of Luca.
I also knew there was one person who could call him at three in the morning and have him answer on the first ring.
His daughter.
Emily’s mother had died seven years earlier.
Afterward, Luca and Emily had become even closer.
He still kept her college graduation picture on his desk.
Still drove out to her little house every spring to help with things she could easily hire someone else to do.
Still called her every Sunday evening.
At least, I thought he did.
Which was why nothing about that night made sense.
Emily looked toward the dining room.
“Dad really doesn’t want me here?”
Vanessa didn’t hesitate.
“He said tonight would be easier without family complications.”
Emily’s face changed.
I looked at her stomach.
“What complications?”
Vanessa’s eyes snapped toward me.
“This is none of your business.”
Emily swallowed.
“He means the baby.”
Something cold moved through me.
“Mr. Moretti knows?”
Emily gave a sad little laugh.
“I’ve been trying to tell him for six weeks.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“And Luca has made his feelings very clear.”
Emily looked down.
“He hasn’t returned one call.”
I knew that wasn’t true.
Three days earlier, I had heard Luca ask Vanessa during breakfast:
“Have you heard from Emily? She’s stopped answering me.”
Vanessa had smiled.
“She’s busy.”
Now I was standing beside his pregnant daughter while Vanessa told her the exact opposite.
I looked at Emily.
“When did you last speak to your father?”
“Almost two months ago.”
Vanessa’s expression hardened.
“Claire.”
I ignored her.
“Have you been calling his personal number?”
Emily nodded.
“Vanessa usually answers.”
There it was.
Vanessa stepped between us.
“That’s enough.”
Then she reached into her evening purse and pulled out several folded bills.
“Take a cab home, Emily.”
Emily didn’t touch the money.
“I drove three hours.”
Vanessa exhaled.
“Then drive three hours back.”
Emily’s hand tightened around the little gift bag.
“I just wanted Dad to hear it from me.”
“He doesn’t need this tonight.”
“This is his grandchild.”
“And this is his engagement dinner.”
Emily’s eyes filled.
Then Vanessa said the sentence that made me stop worrying about my job.
“Your father has spent his whole life cleaning up family mistakes. Don’t make him start again with yours.”
Emily flinched.
I stared at Vanessa.
“Mrs. Bellini.”
She turned.
“If you interfere, Claire, you’re finished here.”
I needed that paycheck.
My mother still lived in the little house my father had left behind.
The property taxes had gone up twice since he died, and I helped her every month.
Vanessa knew it.
She smiled.
“Good. Call the cab.”
Instead, I reached for Emily’s coat.
“Come with me.”
Ten minutes later, I opened the dining-room doors.
Thirty guests turned.
Vanessa saw us first.
Her face went white.
“Claire!”
I kept walking.
Emily almost stopped.
I squeezed her hand.
Vanessa rushed toward us.
“What did I tell you?”
Then she saw several guests looking.
Her smile returned.
“Emily. What a surprise.”
Emily stared at her.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“You need to leave.”
“No,” I said.
Vanessa turned on me.
“You desperate little maid.”
Her hand closed around my arm.
“I told you to put her in a cab.”
A chair scraped across the marble floor.
Luca Moretti had stood up.
He wasn’t looking at me.
He was staring at Emily.
More specifically, at her stomach.
His fork slipped onto his plate.
“Emily?”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Hi, Dad.”
Luca walked toward her.
Then stopped a few feet away.
He looked from her face to the unmistakable curve beneath her dress.
His voice dropped.
“You’re having a baby?”
Emily started crying.
Luca looked stunned.
Then hurt.
“How far along are you?”
“Almost six months.”
His face emptied.
“Six?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not telling you sooner.”
Luca stared at her.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I tried.”
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Luca, sweetheart—”
He raised one hand.
She stopped.
His eyes stayed on his daughter.
“How many times?”
Emily wiped her cheeks.
“I don’t know. Twenty?”
Luca slowly looked at Vanessa.
“You answered her calls?”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“Sometimes.”
“And told her what?”
“That you were busy.”
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
Vanessa’s expression changed.
Emily continued.
“You told me he didn’t want to talk to me.”
Nobody at the table moved.
Luca’s voice became dangerously quiet.
“What else?”
Emily hesitated.
“She said you were ashamed.”
Luca looked as though someone had hit him.
“Ashamed of you?”
“She said you didn’t want people knowing your unmarried daughter was pregnant while you were planning a wedding.”
Vanessa exhaled.
“Luca, I was trying to protect tonight.”
He finally looked at her.
“From my grandchild?”
“You know how people talk.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“No.”
His voice stayed calm.
“I should have known my daughter was becoming a mother.”
Then he turned back to Emily.
“Who’s the father?”
“Michael.”
“The teacher?”
She nodded.
A small smile appeared through her tears.
“We’re getting married in the spring.”
Luca actually laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because six weeks of worry seemed to leave him all at once.
He pulled his daughter into his arms.
Emily buried her face against his chest.
Luca closed his eyes.
“I would have come.”
“To what?”
“Everything.”
He pulled back.
“Doctor appointments. Furniture. Whatever you needed.”
Emily looked confused.
“Vanessa said you didn’t want to be involved.”
His face changed again.
“I bought a crib last month.”
Emily stared at him.
“What?”
Luca smiled faintly.
“I saw one in a store window and felt ridiculous buying it when I didn’t even know whether you wanted children yet.”
Vanessa went still.
Luca continued.
“It’s in the guest room upstairs.”
Emily covered her mouth.
Then she started crying harder.
Vanessa looked away.
Luca noticed.
“Why did you tell her I didn’t want this baby?”
“I didn’t want your engagement overshadowed.”
“My daughter having my first grandchild doesn’t overshadow anything.”
Then Emily seemed to remember something.
She picked up the little gift bag.
“I brought you this.”
Inside was a tiny white onesie.
Across the front, in dark blue letters, were two words:
GRANDPA LUCA.
Luca stared at it.
For several seconds, the most feared man in that room couldn’t speak.
Then he pressed it against his chest.
Emily smiled.
“I was going to give it to you six weeks ago.”
He looked at Vanessa.
She had stopped smiling entirely.
But Emily wasn’t finished.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Did you really sell Mom’s house?”
Luca’s head snapped toward her.
“What?”
The room changed.
Emily looked confused.
“The house on Maple Street.”
The little brick house where she had grown up.
The house her mother had loved.
Vanessa suddenly reached for her champagne.
Luca saw it.
“Why would Emily think I sold that house?”
Nobody answered.
Emily looked between them.
“Vanessa called me last week.”
Luca became completely still.
“What did she say?”
“She said after the wedding, you wanted to simplify the family properties.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Emily continued.
“She told me I had until Friday to remove Mom’s things.”
Luca stared at his fiancée.
“That house isn’t mine to sell.”
Emily frowned.
“What?”
Luca reached inside his jacket.
“I transferred it three years ago.”
“To who?”
He looked directly at his daughter.
“You.”
Emily stopped breathing.
“I own Mom’s house?”
“You’ve owned it since your twenty-fourth birthday.”
Vanessa’s champagne glass hit the table too hard.
Luca turned toward her.
Slowly.
“Why did you tell my daughter she had to empty a house she owns?”
Vanessa whispered, “Luca…”
Emily reached into her purse.
“There’s more.”
She removed a folded letter.
“Two men came yesterday.”
Luca took it.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
A property company had scheduled the house for final inspection the following morning.
And beneath the company name was a handwritten contact.
VANESSA BELLINI.
Luca read it twice.
Then looked at the woman he was supposed to marry.
“Explain.”
Her face had gone completely white.
“It isn’t what you think.”
Emily suddenly grabbed her father’s arm.
“Dad, there’s something in the basement they kept asking about.”
Luca looked at her.
“What?”
“Mom’s locked cabinet.”
Vanessa closed her eyes.
Emily’s voice dropped.
“They didn’t care about the furniture.”
She pointed at Vanessa.
“They only wanted the key to Mom’s cabinet.”
Luca slowly folded the letter.
Then looked toward his security men.
“Nobody goes near that house.”
May you like
His eyes returned to Vanessa.
“And you’re going to tell me why you tried to remove my daughter from her own home before she could find out what her mother left there”
