Chapter 4 - THE FIANCÉE
The intruder disappeared before security reached the east wing.
No broken lock.
No cut fence.
No forced door.
Someone inside the Moretti house had opened the gate.
That bothered Dante more than the break-in itself.
For the next two days, security doubled.
Every employee was questioned.
Every camera was checked.
Sophia tried to stay out of it.
Elena made that impossible.
“You are nervous.”
“I’m living in a house where someone apparently lets burglars in for fun.”
“Nobody lets burglars in for fun.”
“That’s the comforting part?”
Elena reached across the kitchen table.
“My son will handle it.”
Sophia looked toward the doorway.
“That sentence never makes me feel better.”
On the sixteenth day of her job, Sophia forgot about the threat for exactly three seconds.
She was standing in the kitchen with flour on her face, arguing with Dante over sauce.
“You’re burning it.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I own three restaurants.”
“You don’t cook in them.”
“That seems irrelevant.”
“It is incredibly relevant.”
Dante stepped closer.
“There.”
“What?”
“You have flour on your cheek.”
Before Sophia could wipe it away, he lifted his hand.
His thumb brushed her skin.
Everything inside her went quiet.
His hand stayed there one second too long.
Sophia looked up.
Dante’s face was inches from hers.
“Dante…”
Then heels struck marble.
Click.
Click.
Click.
A blonde woman appeared in the doorway wearing a red dress worth more than Sophia’s annual rent.
She stopped.
Her eyes moved from Dante’s hand to Sophia’s face.
“Dante, darling.”
Dante stepped back.
Too late.
The woman smiled.
It was the coldest smile Sophia had ever seen.
“Sophia,” Dante said, his voice suddenly formal, “this is Vanessa Genovese.”
Vanessa held out her hand.
A diamond glittered on her finger.
Sophia understood before Dante spoke.
“My fiancée.”
Sophia’s stomach dropped.
Vanessa looked her up and down.
“So you’re the waitress.”
Sophia shook her hand.
“And you’re the fiancée.”
Dante gave Sophia a warning look.
Vanessa laughed softly.
“Oh, I like her.”
“No, you don’t,” Elena said from behind them.
Nobody had heard her enter.
Vanessa’s smile tightened.
“Elena.”
“Vanessa.”
“Lovely to see you.”
“Then you need glasses.”
Dante rubbed his forehead.
Sophia almost laughed.
Almost.
Dinner was worse.
Vanessa sat beside Dante.
Her hand rested on his arm.
She talked about wedding venues in Lake Como.
Dante barely responded.
Sophia tried not to care.
She cared anyway.
After dinner, Vanessa found her alone near the pantry.
“You’re pretty,” Vanessa said.
Sophia closed a cabinet.
“Thanks.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Then you’re bad at insults.”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“My family has known Dante since he was eight.”
“Congratulations.”
“We understand what people like you don’t.”
Sophia turned.
“People like me?”
“Temporary people.”
That landed.
Sophia hated that it landed.
Vanessa smiled.
“Dante gets bored. He rescues things. Broken companies. Stray dogs. Desperate women.”
Sophia’s jaw tightened.
“I’m an employee.”
“Of course.”
Vanessa pulled an envelope from her purse.
Inside was a check.
Fifty thousand dollars.
“Leave.”
Sophia stared at it.
Vanessa continued.
“Tell Elena you found another job. Go back to your little apartment. Take care of your father.”
Sophia pushed the envelope back.
“No.”
Vanessa’s eyes cooled.
“Think carefully.”
“I did.”
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
Sophia leaned closer.
“That makes two of us.”
For the first time, Vanessa’s smile vanished.
She placed the envelope on the counter.
“You have forty-eight hours.”
Sophia walked away.
Behind her, Vanessa said, “And Sophia?”
She turned.
May you like
Vanessa’s voice dropped.
“If you’re still here after forty-eight hours, your father pays for it.”
