"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.""
I was trying to guide a seventy-six-year-old man between two crowded dinner tables when the pain in my jaw became almost unbearable.
My lower lip was swollen.
There was dried blood on the white collar of my housekeeping uniform.
And the elderly man's hand was trembling against my elbow.
Twenty-eight guests sat beneath the chandeliers of Luca Moretti's Chicago mansion.
Every single one of them had turned to stare.
""Emily!""
Vanessa Bellini's voice cut across the dining room.
""Who told you to bring that man in here?""
I stopped.
The elderly gentleman tightened his grip on my arm.
""I'm sorry, ma'am. He asked to see Mr. Moretti.""
""Then you should have called security.""
""He said he knew the family.""
Vanessa rose from her chair.
Her red silk gown swept across the marble floor as she approached us.
""Does this look like a public waiting room to you?""
My face burned.
""No, ma'am.""
""Then take him back outside.""
I tried to turn.
But the old man lost his footing on the edge of the carpet.
Instinctively, I caught him.
Pain shot through my injured jaw when I clenched my teeth.
I stumbled backward.
Before either of us could fall, someone stepped between us and the dining table.
""I've got him.""
Luca Moretti had risen from his chair.
He steadied the elderly gentleman with one hand and supported my elbow with the other.
Then he looked at me.
""Emily. You're bleeding.""
Before I could answer, Vanessa gave an irritated laugh.
""She fell on the chapel steps this afternoon. Apparently, even a handrail is too complicated for her.""
My stomach dropped.
Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.
""The chapel?""
""Yes, darling. She was helping the decorators.""
I stared at the floor.
Because there hadn't been any decorators at the chapel.
And Vanessa knew exactly how I'd injured my face.
My name is Emily Dawson.
I was twenty-eight, had worked at the Moretti estate for eleven months, and had spent the last four hours pretending my lip wasn't split.
I could barely eat.
Speaking hurt.
And every time I swallowed, I tasted blood.
But my rent was due Friday.
My father's prescriptions had become more expensive.
And Vanessa had personally warned me that if I mentioned what happened at the chapel, I'd never work in another respectable Chicago household again.
So I'd washed the blood from my face.
Covered the swelling with makeup.
And returned to work.
Until the old gentleman appeared at the servants' entrance, asking to see Luca.
I couldn't bring myself to send him away a second time.
Luca carefully guided him into an empty chair.
Then he turned toward me.
""Emily, look at me.""
I reluctantly raised my face.
His expression changed when he saw the swelling beneath my lip.
""Did you see a doctor?""
""No, sir.""
Vanessa sighed.
""For heaven's sake, Luca. She slipped on some steps. Can we please return to our engagement dinner?""
He ignored her.
""Emily, when did you fall?""
""Around four.""
""What were you doing at the chapel?""
""Cleaning before Saturday's ceremony.""
Vanessa immediately added, ""She was carrying boxes of candles down the front steps.""
Luca glanced at her.
""The front steps?""
""Yes.""
He studied her face.
""Then why was the chapel locked this afternoon?""
Vanessa hesitated.
""What?""
""Father Michael called me this morning. The front entrance is being repaired. He said nobody would have access until tomorrow.""
My mouth went dry.
Vanessa gave a small laugh.
""Well, perhaps Emily used the side entrance.""
Luca looked back at me.
""Did you?""
I couldn't answer.
Because the side entrance was exactly where Vanessa had cornered me.
And where she'd told the old man to leave before Luca found out he was there.
Luca studied my face.
Then looked at the elderly gentleman.
""Sir, what's your name?""
The man slowly lifted his head.
""Samuel Bennett.""
Something changed in Luca's expression.
""Samuel Bennett?""
The old man nodded.
Luca pulled out the chair beside him.
""My mother used to take me to your church.""
Samuel's eyes filled.
""Little Luca?""
For the first time that evening, Luca smiled.
""I haven't been little in a long time.""
The elderly man reached for his hand.
""Your mother would be so proud of you.""
Vanessa immediately stepped forward.
""How touching. Perhaps you gentlemen can arrange a reunion after dinner.""
Luca looked at her.
""Mr. Bennett taught music at St. Catherine's for forty years.""
""I'm sure he did.""
""He played the organ at my mother's funeral.""
Vanessa's smile disappeared.
Samuel turned his face toward her voice.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he tightened his grip on Luca's hand.
""That's her.""
The dining room went quiet.
Luca frowned.
""Who's who?""
Samuel pointed toward Vanessa.
""The woman from the chapel.""
My heart nearly stopped.
Vanessa gave a nervous laugh.
""Obviously, Samuel. We've already met.""
The old man shook his head.
""No. I mean the woman who told me Luca didn't want to see me.""
Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.
""You told him that?""
Vanessa lifted her chin.
""I told him we were busy.""
Samuel's voice trembled.
""You told me he'd have me removed if I came to his home again.""
Luca went completely still.
Then he looked at me.
""Emily, is that how you got hurt?""
My eyes immediately filled.
Vanessa stepped toward me.
""Don't you dare make this into something it wasn't.""
Luca moved between us.
""Vanessa.""
His voice was barely above a whisper.
""Go back to your seat.""
She stared at him.
""Luca—""
""Now.""
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Vanessa returned to the table.
Luca looked at me again.
""Emily, are you afraid she'll fire you?""
I nodded.
""She won't.""
My eyes filled with tears.
""Sir, I need this job.""
""And you're keeping it.""
He turned toward Mrs. Carter.
""Call Dr. Harris. Emily needs that injury examined.""
I tried to protest.
""I haven't finished my shift.""
""You'll receive your full pay.""
Then he looked at Samuel.
""Mr. Bennett, did you come here to see me about my mother's funeral?""
The old man hesitated.
""No, son.""
""Then what is it?""
Samuel reached inside his worn brown coat.
But his fingers began trembling.
He withdrew his hand.
""Not here.""
Luca looked toward Vanessa.
She was watching us over the rim of her champagne glass.
""All right.""
He helped Samuel stand.
""We'll talk in my study.""
Vanessa immediately rose again.
""Darling, we're about to serve dessert.""
Luca glanced at the enormous engagement cake waiting beside the fireplace.
Then back at her.
""Start without me.""
Her smile faltered.
He took Samuel's arm.
And as they passed the dining-room doors, the old man whispered something that made Luca stop walking.
""She tried to take it from me this afternoon.""
Luca turned.
""Take what?""
Samuel shook his head.
""Your mother's voice.""
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting in Luca's study with a cold compress against my swollen lip.
Dr. Harris had examined me and told me to rest.
Samuel Bennett sat beside the fireplace, holding a battered black leather case against his chest.
Luca closed the study door.
""Mr. Bennett, tell me what happened at the chapel.""
Samuel carefully placed the case on his knees.
""Your mother came to see me shortly before she died.""
Luca sat opposite him.
""I remember.""
""She asked me to record something.""
""What?""
""A message for you.""
Luca frowned.
""My mother left me a recording. Vanessa gave it to me after the funeral.""
Samuel's expression changed.
""Did she?""
""Yes.""
""What did it say?""
Luca looked toward the window.
""She told me she loved me. That she wanted me to be happy. That I shouldn't spend the rest of my life alone.""
Samuel slowly lowered his head.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Then he opened his leather case.
Inside was a small digital recorder.
""I recorded that message myself.""
Luca leaned forward.
""Then why are you here?""
Samuel's hands began trembling.
""Because that's not the whole recording.""
Silence filled the study.
Luca stared at him.
""What do you mean?""
""Your mother spoke for almost seventeen minutes. She made me promise not to edit a single word.""
He swallowed.
""But after she died, Vanessa came to collect the recording.""
Luca looked toward the closed door.
""Vanessa?""
Samuel nodded.
""She said she was helping arrange the funeral. She told me you were too upset to handle your mother's belongings.""
Luca remembered those days.
He'd barely slept.
Vanessa had taken care of everything.
The flowers.
The church.
The photographs.
Even the recording of his mother's final message.
""What happened to the rest of it?""
Samuel carefully touched the recorder.
""I gave Vanessa a copy. I kept the original.""
Luca stared at him.
""Why didn't you tell me?""
""I tried. I wrote to you twice. I called the house.""
His eyes filled.
""Every time, Vanessa told me you didn't want to discuss your mother anymore.""
Luca's expression hardened.
Samuel took a breath.
""Then last week, I heard about your wedding on the radio. I knew I couldn't stay quiet.""
He explained how he'd taken a taxi to the family chapel that afternoon.
How Vanessa had arrived unexpectedly.
And how she'd recognized the recorder in his hand.
""She demanded that I give it to her.""
Luca looked at me.
""Emily?""
I lowered the cold compress.
""I was cleaning the chapel when I heard them arguing.""
My voice trembled.
""Mr. Bennett was standing near the side entrance. Vanessa kept reaching for his case.""
""What did you do?""
""I told her he was leaving with his belongings.""
My eyes filled.
""She grabbed the strap. When I tried to help him, she shoved the door against me.""
Luca looked at my swollen lip.
""And that's when you got hurt?""
I nodded.
For several seconds, Luca said nothing.
Then he turned toward Samuel.
""Why didn't Vanessa want me to hear the recording?""
The old man placed the recorder on the desk.
""I think you should listen to it yourself.""
Luca pressed PLAY.
At first, there was a little background noise.
A chair moving.
The faint sound of church bells.
Then his mother's voice filled the room.
""Luca, sweetheart. If you're listening to this, I suppose I've finally gone somewhere you can't follow me.""
Luca closed his eyes.
It was her.
The familiar warmth in her voice.
The gentle laugh she'd always given when she tried to hide her fear.
He listened as she spoke about his childhood.
His father.
Their family.
Then came the words he remembered from the recording Vanessa had given him.
""I love you, darling. More than anything in this world. And I want you to be happy.""
Luca opened his eyes.
That was where his copy had ended.
But Samuel's recording continued.
There was a long silence.
Then his mother spoke again.
""Samuel, are you still recording?""
""Yes, Isabella.""
""Good. Because there's something else Luca needs to know.""
Luca slowly leaned forward.
His mother took a trembling breath.
""I've spent three weeks trying to decide how to tell my son this.""
Another pause.
""There's a young woman in his life. Her name is Vanessa Bellini.""
Luca went completely still.
Samuel reached toward the recorder.
But Luca caught his hand.
""Don't stop it.""
His mother's voice returned.
""She came to see me yesterday. She thought I wouldn't remember her.""
Luca stared at the little recorder.
""Remember her from where?"" he whispered.
Then his mother said something that made his face lose all color.
""Samuel, please make sure Luca knows that I met Vanessa long before he did.""
The recording crackled.
""I met her the night his younger brother disappeared.""
Luca stopped breathing for a second.
His brother Michael had vanished nine years earlier.
The police had never found him.
And Vanessa had always insisted she'd never met Michael.
Luca looked at Samuel.
""Did my mother say anything else?""
The old man nodded slowly.
""Yes, son.""
He reached into his coat.
And removed a small photograph his mother had left with the recording.
Luca took it.
Michael stood beside a young woman outside a roadside diner.
Her face was partly hidden beneath a baseball cap.
But Luca recognized her immediately.
Vanessa.
On the back, in his mother's handwriting, were six words.
SHE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED TO MICHAEL.
Luca stared at the photograph.
Then slowly looked up.
""Samuel. Did my mother tell you why Vanessa came to see her?""
The old man's voice began trembling.
""Yes.""
He swallowed.
""She came to ask your mother whether the police had ever found Michael's car. And when your mother told her they hadn't, Vanessa said, 'Good. Then there's still time to move it
