Chapter 4 – THE CARVING KNIFE

Vanessa’s hand trembled around the handle of the carving knife. Her eyes were completely dilated, making her look unrecognizable from the poised socialite who had demanded my firing hours ago.

“Get back, Claire,” she hissed, pointing the blade toward me, though her gaze stayed fixed on the eleven-year-old girl.

Emily froze on her stool, the silver spoon dropping from her hand with a clatter against the bowl.

“Vanessa, put it down,” I begged, stepping between her and Emily. My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. “She’s just a child.”

“She ruined everything!” Vanessa screamed, the veins in her neck popping. “Three years of planning! I played the grieving friend. I played the loving fiancée. Three more months and I would have had half his estate! And this little brat ruined it with a watch!”

She took a step forward.

I grabbed the heavy wooden cutting board off the island, holding it up like a shield.

“If you hurt her, Luca will kill you,” I said evenly. “You know he will.”

Vanessa let out a jagged, hysterical laugh. “He’s going to kill me anyway! Do you know what he’s doing to Marcus right now in the dining room?”

A muffled crash echoed through the walls, followed by the sound of shattering glass.

Emily clamped her hands over her ears, tears streaming down her face.

“I need leverage,” Vanessa muttered frantically, looking toward the back door of the kitchen. “I need the girl. If I have the girl, Luca has to let me leave.”

“You’re not touching her,” I said.

“I’m not asking, you stupid maid!”

She lunged.

I swung the heavy cutting board upward. It caught Vanessa hard on the wrist. She shrieked, but her grip on the knife didn’t slip. She shoved me backward. My hips slammed against the edge of the granite counter, knocking the wind out of my lungs.

Vanessa reached for Emily’s arm.

“Come here!” she yelled.

Before Vanessa’s fingers could grab her, Emily kicked out with her pink party shoes. The hard leather sole hit Vanessa directly in the kneecap.

Vanessa stumbled with a curse.

I grabbed a fistful of Vanessa’s red silk dress and yanked backward with all my strength. We both went down onto the tile floor. The carving knife clattered under the stove.

“Run, Emily!” I shouted, scrambling to pin Vanessa’s arms. “Run to your dad!”

Emily jumped off the stool and bolted through the swinging doors into the dining room.

Vanessa screamed in rage and twisted beneath me, her perfectly manicured nails clawing at my face. She caught my cheek, leaving a burning trail of heat. I pinned her wrists to the tile, but she was fighting with the adrenaline of a trapped animal.

“You’re nothing!” Vanessa spat, thrashing wildly. “You scrub my toilets! You think he cares about you?”

Then the kitchen doors swung open again.

A shadow fell over us.

I looked up, gasping for air.

Luca stood in the doorway.

His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. His knuckles were bruised and split open, dripping slow drops of blood onto the floor.

He didn’t look angry anymore. He looked entirely dead inside.

“Get off her, Claire,” he said quietly.

I released Vanessa’s wrists and scrambled backward, touching my bleeding cheek.

Vanessa scrambled to her feet, pressing her back against the stainless steel refrigerator. She looked at Luca’s bloody hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Luca,” she cried, her voice immediately shifting into a pathetic, pleading whimper. “Luca, I didn’t mean it. The knife—I was just trying to protect myself! The maid attacked me!”

Luca walked slowly toward her.

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t raise his hands.

He just stopped two feet in front of her.

“Where is Marcus?” Vanessa whispered, trembling.

“Marcus is waiting for the police,” Luca replied softly. “He suddenly remembered that he embezzled four million dollars from my company. He wants to confess. He’s very eager to go to federal prison where it’s safe.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened in horror.

Luca reached into his pocket and pulled out the small blue velvet box I had found in her coat.

He tossed it onto the kitchen island.

“You were going to marry him,” Luca stated. It wasn’t a question.

Vanessa shook her head frantically. “No! He bought that, but I refused! I love you, Luca!”

“Emily,” Luca called out softly.

Emily stepped out from behind her father, clutching the fabric of his dark suit pants.

“Go to your room, Vanessa,” Luca said, never taking his eyes off her. “Pack one bag. You have ten minutes to leave my house.”

Vanessa hesitated. “Where… where will I go?”

“I don’t care,” Luca said. “But if you ever come within a hundred yards of my daughter again, you won’t need to worry about where you sleep.”

Vanessa let out a pathetic sob, pushed past us, and ran out of the kitchen.

The heavy silence returned, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing.

Luca looked at me. He saw the deep scratch on my cheek. He saw the fallen cutting board.

He walked over to me.

“Claire.”

“I’m okay, sir,” I whispered, holding my hand to my face.

He gently moved my hand away and inspected the cut. His touch was surprisingly gentle for hands that were bruised and bloody.

“You protected her,” he said quietly.

“I couldn’t let her hurt Emily.”

Emily ran over and hugged me around the waist. I buried my hand in her hair, closing my eyes.

“Daddy,” Emily mumbled against my apron. “There’s something else.”

Luca knelt down. “What is it, sweetheart? No more secrets. I promise.”

Emily looked up. “Mommy didn’t just give me the watch to hide.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Emily reached beneath the collar of her pink dress and pulled out a thin silver chain. Hanging from it wasn’t a pendant or a cross.

It was a small, ornate brass key.

“She told me to give this to you when I was brave enough,” Emily whispered. “She said it opens the truth about what Vanessa did at the hospital.”

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