Chapter 1 - The Woman Behind the Locked Flower Cooler
The mafia boss watched me limp across his engagement dinner carrying an enormous arrangement of white roses—then his fiancée said, “She fell in the flower cooler,” before he even asked why I couldn’t walk properly.
Five more steps.
That was all I needed to reach the dining table.
But my left ankle was swollen inside my black shoe, and every time I put my weight on it, pain shot up my leg.
The crystal vase was getting heavier.
My hands were slipping.
And twenty-four guests were watching me struggle beneath the chandeliers of Luca Moretti's Chicago mansion.
“Careful, Natalie. Those arrangements cost more than your monthly salary.”
Vanessa Bellini didn't bother lowering her voice.
I tightened my grip on the vase.
“I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“Then stop dragging your feet.”
I tried to take another step.
My injured ankle buckled.
The vase tilted dangerously toward Luca Moretti's dinner plate.
Before I could catch it, a man's hand closed around the glass.
“Put it down.”
Luca Moretti had risen from his chair.
And he wasn't looking at the flowers.
He was looking at my left foot.
My name is Natalie Brooks.
I was twenty-nine, worked as a housemaid at the Moretti estate, and had spent the last four hours pretending I hadn't badly injured my ankle.
Normally, I could carry those flowers across the dining room without thinking.
Tonight, I could barely walk.
But my landlord was expecting the rest of my rent on Friday.
Missing another shift wasn't an option.
And Vanessa had already warned me that if I mentioned what happened that afternoon, I'd be looking for another job by morning.
So I'd put on my uniform.
Pulled my swollen foot into my shoe.
And gone back to work.
At the head of the table sat Luca Moretti.
Thirty-nine.
Black suit.
White shirt.
The kind of man who remembered which employees had sick children and which business associates were lying before they finished speaking.
Beside him sat Vanessa.
Red silk gown.
Diamond earrings.
A beautiful smile that hadn't left her face since the guests arrived.
Luca steadied the vase.
“Natalie.”
My stomach tightened.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Why are you limping?”
Before I could answer, Vanessa gave a little laugh.
“She fell in the flower cooler this afternoon. Apparently, walking on a wet floor is beyond her abilities.”
My heart nearly stopped.
Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.
“The flower cooler?”
“Yes, darling. The florist had her fetching more roses.”
I stared at the tablecloth.
Because Vanessa had just mentioned the one room she'd ordered me never to enter again.
Luca looked back at me.
“Did you fall?”
I could feel Vanessa watching.
“Yes, sir.”
“When?”
“Around four.”
“What were you doing in there?”
“Getting more flowers.”
Vanessa immediately added, “She was helping the florist arrange the centerpieces.”
Luca glanced toward the enormous vase.
Then back at Vanessa.
“You saw her fall?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know where it happened?”
Vanessa smiled.
“She told me.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“Did you?”
My mouth went dry.
“Yes.”
The answer came too slowly.
Luca noticed.
“Take off your shoe.”
My heart started pounding.
“It's really nothing, sir.”
“Natalie.”
His voice wasn't louder.
That somehow made refusing harder.
Slowly, I slipped my left foot out of my shoe.
The swelling was immediately visible.
A dark bruise had formed along the outside of my ankle, and a narrow scrape ran just above my heel.
One of the guests quietly put down his fork.
Luca studied my foot.
“You've been working like this all evening?”
I nodded.
Vanessa sighed.
“For heaven's sake, Luca. She twisted her ankle. Do we really need to interrupt our engagement dinner?”
He ignored her.
“Natalie, what caused you to fall?”
I stared at the floor.
“The floor was wet.”
Vanessa relaxed.
Only slightly.
But Luca saw it.
He leaned back.
“Interesting.”
Vanessa frowned.
“What is?”
“The florist told me the cooler's refrigeration system was being serviced today.”
Her smile faltered.
“So?”
“So nobody was supposed to be working inside it.”
Nobody spoke.
I could feel my heartbeat in my throat.
Vanessa gave an uncomfortable laugh.
“Then perhaps Natalie misunderstood her instructions.”
Luca looked at me.
“Did you?”
I couldn't answer.
Because the truth wasn't something I could explain in front of twenty-four guests.
Especially with Vanessa sitting three feet away.
He studied my face.
Then asked quietly, “Are you afraid of losing your job?”
My eyes immediately filled.
“Yes, sir.”
“You won't.”
Vanessa put down her glass.
“She’s just embarrassed because she nearly dropped the flowers.”
Luca turned toward her.
“Then why are you answering every question I ask her?”
Vanessa stopped smiling.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Luca stood.
“Natalie, leave the flowers.”
“I can finish dinner.”
“No.”
“Please, sir. I need the hours.”
“You'll be paid for the entire shift.”
He looked toward the head housekeeper.
“Mrs. Carter, help Natalie upstairs and arrange for Dr. Harris to examine her ankle.”
Vanessa gave an irritated sigh.
“She’s perfectly capable of walking upstairs.”
Luca looked directly at her.
“Then why did you just tell me she couldn't walk across the dining room?”
Her smile disappeared.
I started toward the doorway.
“Natalie.”
I stopped.
Luca was watching me carefully.
“Was Vanessa in the flower cooler when you fell?”
My stomach dropped.
I looked toward her without meaning to.
She was smiling again.
But there was something in her eyes I recognized immediately.
A warning.
“No, sir.”
Luca studied my face.
Then nodded.
“Go.”
I left.
And for the next thirty minutes, Luca Moretti behaved as though nothing unusual had happened.
He finished dinner.
Discussed the wedding arrangements.
Complimented the flowers.
Even listened patiently while Vanessa talked about the photographer she'd hired.
By dessert, she was smiling again.
She thought he'd accepted my explanation.
But at 9:47, while Vanessa was entertaining their guests, Luca quietly left the dining room.
He walked through the kitchen and stopped outside the flower cooler.
The heavy steel door was closed.
A handwritten sign had been taped to it.
OUT OF SERVICE.
He tried the handle.
Locked.
Then he noticed something unusual.
A small red light was flashing beside the emergency release.
Luca immediately called his head of security.
“Daniel. Who has the key to the flower cooler?”
“The catering manager, sir.”
“Anyone else?”
A pause.
“Miss Bellini requested a copy this afternoon.”
Luca's expression hardened.
“Find it.”
Three minutes later, Daniel arrived.
He unlocked the door.
Cold air spilled into the hallway.
Luca stepped inside.
Buckets of white roses lined the walls.
Several empty flower crates were stacked beside a stainless-steel worktable.
Then he heard something.
A faint knocking.
He turned toward the far end of the cooler.
Behind the stacked crates was a second door leading to a small refrigerated storage room.
Someone was inside.
Luca immediately pulled the crates aside.
“Who's there?”
A woman's voice answered.
“Please. Open the door.”
Daniel hurried forward with the key.
Inside, an elderly woman sat on an overturned flower bucket, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
Her silver hair had come loose from its pins.
She was wearing a florist's apron.
And she was trembling.
Luca immediately removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders.
“Ma'am, are you all right?”
She looked up at him.
Then her expression changed.
“You're Luca Moretti.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes filled.
“Oh, thank God.”
Luca helped her stand.
“Who locked you in here?”
The woman hesitated.
Then looked toward the open door.
“Your fiancée.”
Luca went completely still.
“Vanessa?”
The woman nodded.
“That poor girl tried to stop her. She hurt her ankle when she fell against the storage steps.”
My name.
Me.
Luca's eyes hardened.
“Who are you?”
The old woman swallowed.
“My name is Margaret Bell.”
“Why were you here?”
“I own Bell & Bloom Florists. We were contracted for tonight's engagement.”
Luca glanced at Daniel.
“Why did Vanessa lock you up?”
Margaret's hands trembled.
“Because I recognized her.”
Vanessa.
The word wasn't spoken, but it hung between them.
“Recognized her as what?”
Margaret slowly reached into her apron.
She removed an old photograph.
A younger Vanessa stood outside a small church beside a man wearing a dark wedding suit.
Luca stared at it.
“Who is that?”
Margaret swallowed.
“My son.”
Luca slowly looked up.
“What is his name?”
“Julian.”
The room seemed to get colder.
“Why would my fiancée be standing beside your son?”
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“Because six years ago, before Vanessa Bellini ever met you…”
She took a shaky breath.
“…she married him.”
Luca didn't move.
Daniel stared at the photograph.
Margaret continued.
“And I've spent six years trying to find out what happened to him.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
“Your son is missing?”
“Yes.”
“Dead?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why come here tonight?”
Margaret stared directly at him.
“Because I saw Vanessa.”
“And?”
“I knew her.”
She raised the photograph again.
“Some things a mother never forgets.”
Luca stepped closer.
“What happened to Julian?”
Margaret's voice broke.
“He disappeared three days after their wedding.”
Luca's eyes narrowed.
“What does that have to do with me?”
Margaret's gaze shifted toward the dining room.
“Everything.”
She reached into another pocket and produced a folded document.
“I was told to bring this to the man Vanessa was marrying next.”
Luca took it.
He opened the envelope.
Inside was a marriage certificate.
Vanessa Bellini and Julian Bell.
Six years earlier.
Then a second page.
A death certificate.
Julian Bell.
Date of death.
Six years earlier.
Cause:
House fire.
Luca stared at the signature.
“Where?”
Margaret whispered the name of the town.
Luca knew it.
His expression changed.
“That was one of my family's properties.”
Margaret nodded.
“That is why I came.”
Daniel took a step forward.
“Boss…”
But Luca wasn't listening.
His eyes were fixed on the certificate.
A house fire.
A missing husband.
A hidden marriage.
His fiancée.
And a maid who had just happened to get injured after entering a room Vanessa had forbidden anyone to enter.
Suddenly, the flowers weren't the strangest thing in the house.
Luca looked at Margaret.
“Tell me exactly what happened six years ago.”
Margaret's face crumpled.
“My son didn't die in that fire.”
Silence.
“He called me that night.”
May you like
Luca's hand tightened around the papers.
“He said Vanessa was trying to kill him.”
