THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME GUIDE A BLIND OLD MAN INTO HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH BLOOD ON MY COLLAR—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE FELL ON THE CHAPEL STEPS,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY MY LIP WAS SPLIT. "Take my arm, sir. Just three more steps."

"There's still time to move it."

The words hung in the quiet air of Luca’s mahogany-paneled study. Outside, the muffled string quartet played a delicate waltz for the engagement guests, completely oblivious to the earthquake that had just shattered Luca Moretti’s life.

I sat on the leather sofa, the cold compress against my split lip forgotten.

Luca didn't move. He stared at the photograph of his missing brother, Michael, standing next to the woman who was currently wearing a three-carat diamond ring on her left hand. His fiancé.

"She knew," Luca whispered. The devastation in his voice was raw, stripping away the polished exterior of the billionaire businessman I worked for. "For nine years, Vanessa sat at my family's dinner table, watched my mother cry herself to sleep, and she knew exactly where Michael was."

Samuel Bennett nodded slowly, his frail hands resting on his knees. "Isabella suspected Vanessa was hiding something. That's why she wanted you to have the recording, son. She didn't want you tying your life to a woman who had buried your brother."

"She didn't just bury him," Luca said, his eyes darkening with a sudden, terrifying clarity. "She’s trying to destroy the evidence. That’s why she was at the chapel today. That’s why she attacked you, Emily."

He looked at me, his gaze dropping to my bruised face. The guilt in his eyes made my chest tighten. I was just a housekeeper. I shouldn't be hearing the darkest secrets of Chicago's most powerful family. But Vanessa had dragged me into this the moment she shoved that heavy oak door into my face.

Before I could speak, the heavy brass doorknob of the study slowly began to turn.

Luca reacted instantly. He snatched the digital recorder and the photograph from the desk, shoving them into the top drawer and turning the key.

"Emily, check your lip," he commanded softly.

I immediately raised the ice pack back to my face just as the door swung open.

Vanessa stood in the doorway. She had reapplied her crimson lipstick, and her smile was dangerously tight. She looked past Luca, her green eyes locking onto Samuel, then darting to me.

"Darling," Vanessa said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "The caterers are waiting to serve the cake. You're neglecting our guests for... staff business."

Answer one: Vanessa wasn't just impatient; she was terrified of what Samuel might have said.

Open two: If she wanted to hide her tracks, why was she still at the party instead of moving the car right now?

"Emily was just explaining what happened at the chapel," Luca said smoothly. I watched his posture shift, his tension burying itself beneath a mask of perfect composure. "She bumped into a pillar while carrying the candles. Mr. Bennett just happened to be there."

Vanessa’s shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. She believed the lie. She believed I was still too terrified of her to tell the truth.

"How unfortunate," she murmured. She stepped into the room, walking toward Luca. "Well, Dr. Harris has seen her. It's time to rejoin the party."

"I'll be right there," Luca said. "Go ahead and ask them to pour the champagne."

Vanessa hesitated, her eyes flickering toward the locked desk drawer. Then, she leaned in and kissed Luca’s cheek. "Don't be long."

As she turned to leave, her silk gown caught the edge of the heavy side table. Her small silver evening clutch tipped over. It didn't fall, but a small square of thick yellow paper slipped out of the clasp, fluttering silently onto the Persian rug.

Vanessa didn't notice. She swept out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I immediately stood up, ignoring the throbbing in my jaw, and walked over to the rug. I picked up the yellow paper.

It wasn't a party favor. It was a valet parking ticket. But it didn't belong to the Moretti estate’s private garage.

"Mr. Moretti," I whispered, handing it to Luca.

Luca stared at the ticket. The logo read: Southside Secure Storage. 24-Hour Access.

The timestamp on the ticket was from three days ago.

A reversal hit me hard. I had assumed Vanessa was trying to protect her new life with Luca. But this ticket meant she was already preparing to leave. She wasn't planning on marrying him at all.

"She's not going back to the party," Luca said, his voice turning to ice as he stared at the ticket. "She just came in here to make sure Samuel hadn't told me yet. She's leaving the house right now to move Michael's car."

He looked at me, grabbing his suit jacket from the chair.

"Emily, do you have your car keys?"

I blinked, surprised. "Yes, sir. But it's just a ten-year-old Honda. It's parked in the staff lot."

"Perfect," Luca said grimly. "If I take one of my cars, the security gate logs it, and my uncle's men will know I left. We're taking yours. We're going to follow her."

I stood frozen. "Sir, I'm just a housekeeper."