Chapter 2 - The Morning After
The sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains was blinding. I blinked awake, completely disoriented. This wasn't my small, cramped room in the servant's quarters. The mattress beneath me felt like a cloud, the sheets spun from pure silk.
Memory rushed back in a tidal wave. The argument. The fall. The office. Luca carrying me up the grand staircase while Isabella screamed from the foyer, flanked by two massive security guards.
I threw off the covers and immediately winced. My ankle was tightly wrapped in a professional medical bandage. Sometime during the night, Luca had called his private physician to the house. I vaguely remembered the doctor giving me a mild painkiller, but my memories of Luca sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my hand while the doctor worked, felt too much like a fever dream to be real.
I tested my weight on the floor. The pain was still there, a sharp ache, but manageable. I found a pair of plush slippers by the bed and slowly made my way out of the guest suite.
The house felt entirely different this morning. The oppressive, heavy atmosphere that Isabella always seemed to drag behind her like a designer train was gone. The air felt lighter.
I navigated the hallway and headed toward the kitchen, expecting to be scolded by Mrs. Gable, the head housekeeper, for sleeping past 7:00 AM.
Instead, when I pushed open the swinging doors, the massive marble kitchen was quiet. Only one person was inside.
Luca.
He was standing by the island, fully dressed in a sharp charcoal suit that looked like it cost more than my entire life's earnings. His tie was perfectly knotted, his dark hair immaculately swept back. He was holding a mug of coffee, staring at the financial news playing silently on the wall-mounted television.
He turned as soon as the door clicked. His dark eyes swept over me, taking in my borrowed oversized t-shirt—which I suddenly realized belonged to him—and my messy hair.
"You're supposed to be in bed," he said. It sounded like a reprimand, but his tone was entirely too soft.
"I need to check on Sofia," I replied, feeling my cheeks flush under his intense gaze. "She usually wakes up around this time, and she likes her oatmeal with extra cinnamon."
"Mrs. Gable is feeding her oatmeal right now," Luca said, setting his mug down. He walked toward me, his strides long and purposeful. "And I gave strict instructions that you are not to work until the doctor clears you."
"Mr. Moretti, I'm a nanny. I can't just lie in a luxury suite while everyone else works. I need this job."
He stopped right in front of me. He was so close I could smell his cologne—a mix of bergamot, expensive wood, and rain.
"Emma." He reached out, his knuckles lightly grazing my cheek. The contact sent a jolt of electricity straight to my toes. "You aren't going to lose your job. But things are going to be different now."
"Different how?" I breathed.
"Isabella is gone. The engagement is broken." He said it so casually, as if he were discussing the weather. "The board of directors is panicking. The press is already parked outside the gates. By noon, my face will be on the cover of every tabloid in the country claiming I lost my mind and threw the heiress of the Romano family onto the street."
My stomach plummeted. "I ruined your life."
Luca let out a low, rough laugh. It was a beautiful sound, one I had rarely heard in the two months I had lived here. "Emma, you didn't ruin my life. You woke me up."
He stepped closer, invading my personal space entirely. "I tolerated Isabella because it made sense for the business. Because she looked good on paper. But when I saw you limping down those stairs, carrying my daughter... when I saw the pain you were hiding just to keep Sofia safe..."
He shook his head, his gaze dropping to my lips before snapping back up to my eyes. "I realized I had let a monster into my home. And I realized that the only person who actually cares about this family is standing right in front of me."
Before I could process his words, the kitchen doors burst open.
"Emma!"
Sofia ran into the room, her pigtails bouncing. She was wearing her favorite dinosaur pajamas, a sticky streak of oatmeal on her chin. She sprinted toward me, but Luca effortlessly intercepted her, scooping her up into his arms before she could slam into my injured leg.
"Careful, little bird," Luca murmured, kissing her cheek. "Emma is hurt, remember?"
Sofia pouted, looking at my bandaged foot. "Did the bad lady hurt you?"
I froze. Luca’s spine went rigid. He turned his daughter around so she was facing him. "What did you say, Sofia?"
Sofia blinked, playing with the lapel of Luca's expensive suit. "The bad lady. Isabella. She told me yesterday that if I didn't stop asking for Emma, she was going to send Emma far away where I could never find her."
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Luca’s face turned into a mask of pure, lethal ice.
"She threatened you?" I asked, horror creeping up my throat. "Sofia, why didn't you tell me?"
"I was scared," the five-year-old whispered, burying her face into her father’s neck.
Luca held his daughter tight, closing his eyes for a brief second. When he opened them, they were terrifying. He looked at me, and in that moment, I saw the ruthless billionaire the media always wrote about.
"Marco!" Luca barked, his voice echoing through the massive kitchen.
The security chief appeared in the doorway seconds later. "Yes, Boss?"
"Isabella Romano’s family business. The shipping company. We own a twenty percent stake, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sell it. Crash their stock. Buy out their lenders and call in their debts. By the end of the week, I want them bankrupt."
Marco didn't even blink. "Consider it done."
I stared at him, wide-eyed. "Luca... you don't have to start a war over this."
May you like
He turned back to me, the ice melting instantly as he looked at my face. He shifted Sofia to one hip and reached out with his free hand, lacing his fingers through mine.
"For you, Emma?" he whispered, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "I would burn the whole city to the ground."
