THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME PULL A CRUSHED YELLOW ROSE FROM HIS TEN-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER’S TREMBLING HAND DURING HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE DESTROYED MY FLOWERS BECAUSE SHE’S JEALOUS,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED WHY THE LITTLE GIRL WAS COVERED IN DIRT, HER WHITE PARTY DRESS WAS RUINED

Chapter 1 – WHAT WAS HIDDEN IN THE DIRT

The dining room was so quiet I could hear the rain hitting the glass.

Luca stared at Thomas Reed.

His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper.

“What did she say was inside that box?”

Thomas swallowed hard.

He looked briefly at Vanessa, whose face had gone completely white.

Then he looked back at Luca.

“She said it was an antique emerald necklace.”

The room froze.

Luca’s expression didn’t just change.

It shattered.

“An emerald necklace?”

Thomas nodded nervously.

“Yes, sir. Miss Bellini said it was a family heirloom. She told me she needed it for the wedding.”

Vanessa gripped the edge of the table.

“Luca, please—”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t yell.

He didn’t have to. The coldness in his voice made my own chest tighten.

Luca looked back at Thomas.

“My late wife did own an emerald necklace.”

Thomas exhaled. “I thought so.”

“But she didn’t bury it.”

The landscaper frowned. “Sir?”

“She sold it,” Luca said quietly. “Four and a half years ago. To pay for an experimental treatment the insurance wouldn’t cover.”

A collective gasp rippled across the table.

Vanessa’s eyes widened in genuine shock.

“Sold it?” she whispered.

Luca finally turned to her.

“Yes, Vanessa. Because unlike you, Caroline didn’t care about jewelry. She cared about staying alive to watch her daughter grow up.”

Emma leaned against her father’s arm, her small face streaked with tears and dirt.

“Daddy?”

“It’s okay, baby,” Luca murmured.

He looked back at his fiancée.

“You tore up my wife’s garden. You fired my staff. You broke my daughter’s heart. And you did it all because you were digging for jewelry?”

Vanessa shook her head rapidly.

“No! Luca, you don’t understand. I heard Caroline’s sister talking about a box being buried there. I just assumed—”

“You assumed you could dig up a dead woman’s garden to steal her jewelry for our wedding.”

The disgust in his eyes was absolute.

Vanessa began to cry, her red silk dress suddenly looking loud and out of place.

“I just wanted to feel like I belonged here!”

“You don’t,” Luca said. “And you never will.”

He turned to the landscaper.

“Thomas. Did you dig up the box?”

Thomas hesitated.

His hands were trembling as he reached into his charcoal-gray suit jacket.

“Yes, Mr. Moretti. My crew found it an hour ago. Miss Bellini told me to bring it directly to her after dinner.”

He placed something on the pristine white tablecloth.

It wasn’t a jewelry box.

It was a small, rusted tin tin.

Wrapped tightly in layers of waterproof canvas, tied with a faded yellow ribbon.

Emma’s breath caught.

“Mommy’s ribbon,” she whispered.

Luca reached out and touched the dirty canvas. His hands were shaking.

He looked at Thomas. “Thank you for not giving it to her.”

“I have a daughter too, sir,” Thomas said quietly.

Luca pulled the canvas apart.

Inside was a simple metal box. The latch was stiff with age.

Thirty-two wealthy guests held their breath.

Vanessa stood frozen, her face pale, staring at the dirt ruining the centerpieces she had obsessed over.

With a sharp click, Luca forced the latch open.

I leaned in slightly.

There was no emerald necklace.

There was no jewelry at all.

Inside the box lay a heavy, ornate silver key.

And a single, sealed white envelope.

Luca picked up the envelope.

The handwriting on the front was faded, written in Caroline’s elegant cursive.

He stared at it.

His brow furrowed in deep confusion.

Emma looked up. “Daddy? Is it for me?”

“No, sweetheart,” Luca whispered.

He slowly turned the envelope around.

My heart stopped beating.

Because the name written on the front wasn’t Emma’s.

It wasn’t Luca’s.

It was mine.

To Rebecca Hayes.

The entire room stared at me.

I backed up, bumping into the serving cart.

“Mr. Moretti,” I stammered. “I… I don’t understand.”

Luca stood up, the letter in his hand.

“Rebecca. You started working here fifteen months ago.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Caroline died four years ago.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “I know.”

Luca looked down at the envelope, then at the silver key remaining in the rusted box.

“Then how did my dead wife know your name?”

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