Chapter 2 - Their Fake Romance Was Supposed to Stop His Grandmother’s Matchmaking—Until Someone Broke Into Emma’s Apartment and Left a Warning Meant for LucaEmma insisted on going to her apartment.
Luca said no.
Then remembered the rules.
He closed his eyes.
“Will you please reconsider?”
“That sounded painful.”
“It was.”
“I still want to go.”
“Why?”
“Because it's my home.”
“It may be unsafe.”
“So I should let strangers decide I'm never allowed inside again?”
Luca understood immediately.
Control disguised as protection.
He hated how often Emma exposed it.
“Fine.”
They drove with two security vehicles.
Emma sat beside Luca.
Neither spoke.
When they reached building, police had already cleared apartment.
Doorframe splintered.
Emma entered.
Drawers open.
Mattress overturned.
Closet emptied.
Nothing stolen.
Her laptop remained.
Cash in kitchen jar remained.
Jewelry box remained.
Only photograph sat on table.
Emma picked it up with gloved hand officer provided.
She was standing beside Luca at dinner.
Red X over face.
On back:
Know your place.
Emma stared.
Luca saw words.
Something dangerous entered his expression.
“Don't.”
He looked at her.
“You don't even know what I'm going to do.”
“Yes, I do.”
“What?”
“Something expensive, illegal, or both.”
Despite situation, officer coughed to hide laugh.
Emma placed photograph down.
“Who knew my address?”
“Household records.”
“How many people access those?”
Luca thought.
“Five.”
“Names.”
“Teresa. My accountant. Head of security. Marco. Me.”
“Marco?”
“He handles employee insurance and payroll administration.”
Emma remembered terrace.
Marco entering.
Handing Luca phone.
“Could be him.”
“Yes.”
“You trust him?”
“He's my cousin.”
“That wasn't question.”
Luca looked at her.
“Yes.”
Emma nodded.
“Then investigate before deciding.”
“You really enjoy telling me not to kill relatives.”
“I'd like that on résumé.”
Police found no prints.
Security camera had been disabled.
Professional.
Emma packed bag.
Luca said:
“You can stay at my house.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“Too obvious.”
“Hotel?”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“If threat is meant to punish you through me, staying at your property confirms I'm important.”
“You are important.”
The words came too quickly.
Silence.
Emma looked at him.
Luca did not take them back.
She looked away first.
“Teresa's apartment.”
He frowned.
“My grandmother lives in house.”
“Her city apartment.”
“How do you know about it?”
“I organize cleaning schedule.”
Of course.
Teresa's Boston apartment had independent security, no Moretti business traffic.
Emma stayed there.
Teresa arrived next morning carrying breakfast.
“You should eat.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“That has never stopped a Moretti.”
“I'm not a Moretti.”
Teresa's expression became thoughtful.
“Not yet.”
Emma nearly choked.
“Please don't.”
Teresa smiled.
Then seriousness returned.
“Camille's father denies involvement.”
“Do you believe him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He lies even when truth would be easier.”
Emma liked answer.
Teresa sat.
“Luca is worried.”
“Luca is always worried. He disguises it as giving orders.”
“You've noticed.”
“Everyone has.”
“No.”
Teresa looked toward window.
“Everyone obeys.”
That distinction stayed.
Later Luca arrived with folder.
“We found something.”
Emma opened.
Photograph paper came from printer used at Moretti Foundation office.
“Who has access?”
“Family.”
“Again.”
“Yes.”
“Marco?”
“Yes.”
“Camille?”
“No.”
“Dario?”
“No.”
Emma flipped pages.
Another detail.
Security camera near her apartment disabled remotely using credentials belonging to Luca's head of security, Paolo Ferri.
“Paolo?”
Luca's face was hard.
“He's been with me eleven years.”
“Could credentials be stolen?”
“Yes.”
“Then don't convict him yet.”
“I wasn't.”
Emma raised eyebrow.
“Fine. I was.”
She continued.
“Why target me?”
“To pressure me.”
“Over Camille?”
“Maybe.”
“You don't believe that.”
“No.”
“What else?”
Luca hesitated.
Then told her.
Moretti family was negotiating sale of waterfront hotel project.
Buyer: Russo Development Group.
Camille's family.
Marriage would strengthen partnership.
Emma's fake relationship made Luca appear unwilling.
But deal was still possible.
“So someone wants marriage badly enough to scare me?”
“Or wants sale.”
“Why?”
“Property includes pier access.”
Emma's eyes narrowed.
“For what?”
Luca was silent.
“Rule.”
He sighed.
“My family has legitimate businesses.”
“And illegitimate.”
“Yes.”
“Does hotel property matter to illegitimate side?”
“It used to.”
“Used to?”
“My father moved contraband through pier.”
Emma absorbed.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. But it's true.”
“Why stop?”
“Because my brother died.”
Emma had never heard about brother.
“Antonio.”
Luca looked away.
“He was twenty-four. Shipment dispute. Wrong men. Wrong night.”
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Enough.”
She recognized boundary.
Did not push.
“After that you stopped trafficking?”
“Drugs completely. Weapons. Most smuggling.”
“Most?”
“I told you truth would be ugly.”
Emma appreciated it.
“Then why keep criminal business?”
“Because walking away isn't same as resigning from office.”
“People depend on you?”
“Yes.”
“And people would kill you?”
“Yes.”
“Convenient.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Meaning?”
“Every powerful man eventually explains why power is burden.”
“That isn't fair.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“But maybe neither is world.”
He almost smiled.
Then Emma saw spreadsheet.
“What's this?”
“Hotel budget.”
She read.
Something looked wrong.
Housekeeping labor projection far too high.
Not low.
High.
“Who created?”
“Marco's team.”
Emma calculated.
“Forty-two rooms?”
“Yes.”
“This budget pays for eighty-six full-time housekeeping employees.”
Luca stared.
“What?”
“That's impossible.”
She checked.
“They've buried almost four million dollars annually in staffing.”
Luca took sheet.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
He called finance director.
Within hours they discovered shell employees.
Fake payroll.
Money routed through hotel development accounts.
Destination companies connected to Russo.
And approvals carried Marco Moretti's authorization.
Luca sat in study after midnight.
Emma stood opposite.
“You found it because you know hotel operations.”
She shrugged.
“Numbers looked stupid.”
“Four million dollars.”
“Very stupid.”
Luca looked at her differently.
“If this is Marco—”
“Don't.”
“Emma.”
“Evidence first.”
He stood.
“Someone threatened you.”
“And if you accuse wrong person, real one disappears.”
He hated logic when it came from her.
Next day Luca invited Marco to lunch.
Emma was supposedly absent.
Actually listening from adjacent room.
Luca placed payroll records.
“Explain.”
Marco looked.
Too calm.
“Accounting error.”
“Four million?”
“Consultants.”
“Ghost employees.”
Marco's expression changed.
Luca continued.
“Money reaches Russo companies.”
“Then Dario's stealing.”
“With your approval.”
“My credentials.”
Emma heard same excuse as Paolo.
Stolen credentials.
Pattern.
Then Marco said something unexpected.
“You should've married Camille.”
Luca went still.
“Why?”
“Because families need stability.”
“My relationship isn't your concern.”
“Your relationship with maid became everyone's concern.”
Luca's voice cooled.
“Her name is Emma.”
Silence.
Marco smiled.
There.
Tiny.
Ugly.
“So it is real.”
Luca didn't answer.
Marco leaned forward.
“You know what people are saying?”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because a Moretti choosing woman like that makes you look weak.”
Emma felt words.
Not because new.
Because familiar.
Woman like that.
Luca's chair moved.
Emma almost entered.
Then Luca said quietly:
“Finish sentence.”
Marco hesitated.
“What kind of woman is Emma?”
“Don't pretend.”
“No. Explain.”
“She is household employee.”
“Yes.”
“She has no family.”
“Wrong. She has mother in Ohio and sister in Denver.”
Emma blinked.
He knew?
“She has no standing.”
“She has more integrity than half people at this table.”
Marco scoffed.
“And physically—”
Luca stood.
“Be careful.”
Marco smiled.
“You can't tell me you don't see it.”
Luca's voice became almost gentle.
“I see a woman who found four million dollars your accountants missed.”
Marco stopped.
Luca continued.
“I see someone who has managed my household better than men I've paid six figures.”
“And I see someone who tells me truth when every person with my surname has learned to calculate what truth is worth.”
Emma forgot to breathe.
Luca leaned closer.
“If your argument is that her body somehow makes those things less valuable, then the weakness isn't hers.”
Marco stared.
“It's yours.”
Emma stepped into room.
Both men turned.
Marco realized trap.
She looked at Luca.
“That was almost romantic.”
He blinked.
“Almost?”
“Don't get excited.”
Marco stood.
“You were listening?”
“Yes.”
“Then you heard enough.”
“I heard exactly enough.”
She placed another document.
Payroll authorization metadata.
“Your login wasn't stolen.”
Marco frowned.
“Device ID.”
Emma pointed.
“Approvals came from same tablet you used to sign household insurance renewal last Tuesday.”
Luca looked at cousin.
Marco's face changed.
Then window shattered.
Gunfire.
Luca grabbed Emma and pulled her down.
She hit floor.
Second shot.
Security rushed.
Marco ran toward side door.
Luca reached jacket.
Gun.
Emma grabbed wrist.
“Don't!”
Marco escaped into corridor.
Luca looked at Emma.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
He checked anyway without touching.
Then security radio crackled.
Shooter gone.
Marco gone.
And Teresa Moretti had disappeared from upstairs.
On her bed lay another photograph.
This one showed Emma entering apartment.
Across it:
She was never the target.
Luca read sentence twice.
Then understood.
Threat against Emma had been bait.
May you like
While everyone protected the maid—
someone had taken his grandmother.
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