Chapter 1 – THE STOLEN SILVER HEIRLOOM BRACELET

Cassandra’s face went entirely pale.

The eighty guests sitting at the massive mahogany table held their breath.

Lorenzo didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.

“I asked you a question, Cassandra,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. “Did you threaten my mother with Clara’s livelihood?”

Cassandra forced a fragile, trembling laugh.

“Lorenzo, darling, you’re misunderstanding. Evelyn was simply confused. I only meant that Clara has been working too many hours and making mistakes—”

“I am not confused,” Evelyn interrupted quietly.

Her voice was soft, but in that silent room, it carried perfectly.

Cassandra’s eyes flashed with venom. “Evelyn, please. You’re overtired.”

“No,” Evelyn said, her trembling hands resting on the table. “You told me this morning that if I dropped my fork tonight, you would have Lorenzo fire Clara by midnight. You said a mafia boss cannot afford to look weak by babysitting an invalid.”

Lorenzo went completely still.

The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

I stood paralyzed near the kitchen door, clutching my gravy-stained apron. My heart hammered against my ribs.

Lorenzo slowly turned his head to look at his fiancée.

“You called my mother an invalid?”

Cassandra stepped back. “Lorenzo, I was trying to protect your image! The Moretti name commands respect in this city. You can’t have her dropping food like a—”

“Like what?” Lorenzo stepped forward, his dark eyes terrifyingly blank. “Say it.”

Cassandra swallowed hard.

But before she could speak, Evelyn reached out to touch her son’s arm to calm him.

As Evelyn extended her trembling hand, her sleeve pulled back.

Cassandra instantly recoiled, but not fast enough.

The heavy diamond bracelet on Cassandra’s left wrist caught the chandelier’s light.

Evelyn stopped breathing.

She stared at Cassandra’s wrist.

“Where did you get that?” Evelyn whispered, her voice suddenly devoid of any tremor.

Cassandra quickly covered her wrist with her other hand. “It’s vintage. I bought it in Milan.”

“Take it off,” Evelyn demanded.

Lorenzo frowned. “Ma? What is it?”

“Lorenzo, make her take it off,” Evelyn said, tears springing to her eyes. “That’s your grandmother’s silver and diamond heirloom. The one that was stolen from my bedroom safe three weeks ago.”

The guests gasped.

Cassandra’s face flushed scarlet. “That is an outrageous accusation!”

Lorenzo didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Cassandra’s wrist, his grip like iron.

“Let go of me!” she shrieked.

Lorenzo unclasped the bracelet and held it up to the light. He turned it over.

There, engraved on the inner silver band, were the initials A.M.

Antonia Moretti.

He stared at his fiancée, absolute betrayal hardening his features.

“You stole from my family,” Lorenzo whispered. “You stole from the woman you were supposed to call a mother.”

Cassandra panicked. She looked around the room, desperate for an ally.

Then she pointed directly at me.

“I didn’t steal it!” Cassandra cried out. “Clara did! I found it in her apron pocket this afternoon and took it back to return to you tonight!”

I froze.

Lorenzo looked at me. Then he looked at the heavy gold watch on his own wrist.

“That’s fascinating, Cassandra,” Lorenzo said softly. “Because Clara wasn’t in this house this afternoon.”

Share