Vanessa claimed Sophie injured herself on a garage door, until Luca noticed the blood, the wheelchair, and one terrified look that told him his mother was missing. / Chapter 9 / 50

Chapter 9 - The Dawn of a New Era

The master suite on the top floor of the Moretti mansion was less of a bedroom and more of a private sanctuary, featuring sweeping panoramic views of the Chicago skyline, a roaring marble fireplace, and a massive king-size bed draped in charcoal silk.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, wrapping my arms around my waist as I watched the first pale streaks of gray dawn break across the frozen waters of Lake Michigan. The blizzard had finally blown itself out, leaving the city blanketed in a pristine, untouched layer of white snow.

A soft click sounded at the heavy mahogany double doors.

Luca walked in, carrying a small porcelain tray with a cup of hot chamomile tea and a fresh set of medical bandages for my arm. He had changed out of his blood-stained suit into a simple black cashmere sweater and dark trousers, looking less like a syndicate warlord and more like a man finally unburdened by a heavy weight.

He set the tray down on the bedside table and walked over to stand beside me by the window.

"How is your arm?" he asked softly, nodding toward my sling.

"It's better," I answered truthfully, watching our reflections in the double-paned glass. "The throbbing stopped around four in the morning. Dr. Vance said the bone isn't fractured—just a severe soft-tissue crush."

"Good," Luca murmured. He reached out, his warm fingers gently brushing against my shoulder. "Because starting tomorrow, you have a lot of work to do."

I turned my head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is that so? I thought my new job was chief of security. Don't I get a grace period to unpack my things?"

A slow, genuine smile broke across Luca’s face—the kind of smile that completely transformed his harsh, guarded features into something warm and devastatingly handsome.

"Security audits can wait until Monday," Luca said quietly, stepping a fraction closer so I could feel the heat radiating off his frame. "Right now, there is only one pressing operational priority in this house."

"And what's that?" I asked, my breath catching slightly in my throat.

"Teaching you how to drink espresso without spilling it on your uniform," he teased softly. "My mother has already informed me that the household hasn't had a proper pot of coffee since you were reassigned to laundry duty last month."

I let out a soft laugh, the last remnants of the terror and exhaustion from the previous day finally washing away into the winter morning light.

"Your mother has very high standards, Mr. Moretti," I replied with a mock-serious tone.

"She does," Luca agreed, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intense, unwavering focus. "And she has excellent taste in people. She told me this morning that letting you leave this house was the only mistake I almost made this year."

I didn't look away. I couldn't.

For twenty-nine years, I had been invisible. A stout housemaid in sensible shoes, blending into the background of hotels and mansions, making sure nobody noticed me so I wouldn't become a problem.