Chapter 4
By sunset, Bianca had already started lying.
Her first lie came through a gossip site.
A grainy photo of me leaving the cemetery in Luca’s arms appeared online with a headline that made my stomach turn.
MAFIA BOSS ABDUCTS SENATOR’S HOUSEKEEPER AFTER PUBLIC ALTERCATION.
Housekeeper.
Not woman.
Not victim.
Not pregnant.
Bianca had chosen the word carefully.
It made me sound small enough to take.
The article claimed I was unstable.
It claimed I had attacked Bianca first.
It claimed Luca had “removed” me before police could arrive.
I read it twice, then pushed the phone away.
My hands were shaking.
Luca stood by the window, speaking quietly to someone on his phone.
His voice was controlled, but his shoulders were rigid.
“No threats,” he said. “No theatrics. Evidence only.”
He listened.
Then, “Find the cemetery cameras. Find the groundskeeper. Find who took that photo.”
He ended the call.
I looked at him.
“No threats?”
His eyes met mine.
“You said you feared a richer cage. I heard you.”
Something in my chest loosened.
Just a little.
Dr. Bell returned and checked me again.
The baby’s heartbeat was still strong.
She ordered bed rest for a few days and gave Luca a list of foods, vitamins, and warning signs.
He took the paper like it was a legal contract.
After she left, a woman named Rosa came in.
She was older, with kind eyes and a stern mouth.
“I run this house,” she said. “Which means I outrank every man in it when it comes to meals, towels, and common sense.”
For the first time all day, I almost laughed.
She set clean clothes on a chair.
“No uniforms,” she said. “You are a guest.”
Guest.
The word hurt.
I did not know how to be one.
That night, I slept in pieces.
Every sound woke me.
Footsteps in the hall.
Rain at the window.
A car outside the gates.
I dreamed Bianca’s hand was coming down again.
I woke with my arm over my stomach.
Luca was sitting in a chair near the door.
Not sleeping.
“Did you stay there all night?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t know if you would wake afraid.”
I swallowed.
“I did.”
“I know.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
Then he stood.
“I can leave.”
“No.”
The word came out before pride could stop it.
He stayed.
But he did not come closer.
In the morning, Matteo brought news.
The cemetery had cameras.
Bianca had arrived with two security men and a private photographer.
My mouth went dry.
“She planned it?”
Matteo looked at Luca before answering.
“Yes.”
Bianca had not followed me in anger.
She had staged my humiliation.
She wanted pictures.
She wanted proof of me on my knees.
Luca’s face became dangerously blank.
“Where is the footage?”
“Being copied. The groundskeeper is willing to testify. He saw her hit Mara twice and step on her hand.”
My hand curled under the blanket.
Luca noticed.
“Mara decides when we release anything.”
Matteo nodded.
I stared at Luca.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
The phone rang again.
This time, it was Preston.
I knew because Luca looked at the screen and then at me.
“Do you want to hear it?”
Every part of me wanted to say no.
But fear grows in silence.
“Yes.”
Luca answered.
Preston’s voice burst through before Luca could speak.
“Where is she?”
I flinched.
Luca’s eyes stayed on me.
“Safe.”
“She is my employee.”
“She resigned.”
“I didn’t accept that.”
I sat up despite the ache in my body.
“She doesn’t need your permission,” Luca said.
Preston laughed sharply.
“You have no idea what she is. She plays innocent, but she knew exactly what she was doing in my house.”
My face burned.
Luca’s voice lowered.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
Preston ignored him.
“Mara, if you’re listening, come back before this gets ugly. Bianca is willing to forgive you if you sign a statement saying you lied about the assault.”
My stomach turned.
“There it is,” Luca said.
“What?”
“The extortion.”
Preston went silent.
I leaned toward the phone.
My voice shook, but it was mine.
“I’m not signing anything.”
“Mara,” Preston snapped. “Don’t be stupid.”
I gripped the blanket.
“I was stupid when I believed you. I was stupid when I thought kindness meant love. I was stupid every time I let you make me feel ashamed for wanting respect. But I’m not stupid anymore.”
Silence.
Then Preston’s voice turned cruel.
“You think Moretti wants you? He wants the baby. Women like you don’t become wives in houses like his.”
The words landed exactly where Bianca’s had.
Luca reached for the phone.
I shook my head.
“No,” I whispered.
I needed to finish.
“You don’t know what women like me become,” I said.
Then I ended the call myself.
My whole body shook afterward.
Luca looked proud.
That scared me more than anger would have.
Because pride made warmth bloom in places I had kept frozen.
By afternoon, Senator Thorne held a press conference.
He stood beside Bianca on the steps of a courthouse, his hand on her shoulder, cameras flashing.
Bianca wore pale blue.
Soft makeup.
No diamonds.
She looked like the victim she wanted the world to see.
She said she had tried to help an employee in emotional distress.
She said Luca had intimidated her.
She said she feared for her safety.
Then she lowered her eyes and whispered, “My husband and I have suffered enough betrayal.”
I watched from Luca’s study, my hands cold around a mug of tea.
The comments online turned ugly fast.
Gold-digger.
Homewrecker.
Liar.
Maid got lucky.
Luca turned off the screen.
I stared at the black glass.
“They’ll believe her.”
“For a while.”
“You sound so sure.”
“I am.”
“Because you have power.”
He came closer, then stopped at the edge of the rug.
“No. Because you have the truth.”
I laughed once, bitter and tired.
“Truth doesn’t win by itself.”
“No,” he said. “It doesn’t.”
His phone buzzed.
He read the message.
Then his face changed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The cemetery footage is clear.”
Relief hit me so hard I almost cried.
But Luca did not look relieved.
He looked murderous.
“There’s something else,” he said.
“What?”
He turned the phone toward me.
The video showed Bianca slapping me.
Then stepping on my hand.
Then reaching into her coat pocket.
Pulling out a small glass vial.
My blood went cold.
May you like
Luca’s voice was quiet.
“She was going to put something in your bag.”
