Chapter 3 - WHAT VANESSA LEFT IN MY POCKET
Vanessa laughed.
It was a beautiful sound.
Light.
Almost forgiving.
“Your signature?
Luca, I have no idea what she means.”
“On a payment receipt,” I said.
“Eighteen thousand dollars.”
Enzo pushed back his chair.
“This isn’t dinner conversation.”
“Sit down,” Luca said.
Enzo remained standing for one long second.
Then he sat.
Vanessa’s expression changed.
Not much.
Just enough to show me the woman from the guest room.
“Olivia has been under financial pressure,” she said.
“I didn’t want to embarrass her.”
“You already did,” I said.
The words surprised both of us.
Luca turned to his security chief, Marco.
“Ask the guests to give us the room.”
Vanessa gripped the table.
“You’re ending our engagement dinner over a maid’s story?”
“I’m ending dinner because someone struck an employee.”
Nobody argued with him.
The room emptied in a soft rush of expensive coats and lowered voices.
Rosa appeared at the service door.
She saw my face and stopped.
“Oh, honey.”
Vanessa stood abruptly.
“My bracelet.”
I knew what was coming before she touched her bare wrist.
“My emerald bracelet.
It was upstairs this afternoon.”
“Don’t,” I whispered.
She looked at Luca.
“I wasn’t going to say anything until I was certain.”
My apron suddenly felt heavy.
I had left it hanging beside the kitchen for ten minutes while I washed the cut beneath my eye.
Ten minutes.
Long enough.
Vanessa pointed.
“Check her pocket.”
I reached inside before Marco could move.
Cold metal touched my fingers.
I pulled out the bracelet.
Green stones flashed beneath the chandelier.
Rosa made a small sound behind me.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Vanessa folded her arms.
“There.
Now perhaps we can stop pretending.”
I looked at Luca.
I had no photographs.
No proof.
A bruise, a forged signature I couldn’t produce, and stolen diamonds in my hand.
“Search the guest room,” I said.
Enzo spoke immediately.
“It was cleaned before dinner.”
Every face turned toward him.
He blinked.
“I mean, I assume it was.”
Luca held out his hand for the bracelet.
Then he looked at Marco.
“Bring me the hallway camera footage.”
Vanessa’s mouth tightened.
Marco checked his phone.
A pause.
“The second-floor camera was disabled at three forty-six.”
Luca’s voice became very quiet.
“By whom?”
May you like
Marco looked up.
“Your account.”
