Chapter 2 - THE SILVER BOX
The atmosphere in the grand dining room was suffocating. Every breath felt heavy, weighed down by the terrifying silence of Luca Moretti.
At a single nod from Luca, Marco—his chief of security, a imposing man with a jagged scar along his jawline—stepped forward. Without a word, he picked up Vanessa’s designer Italian leather purse from the adjacent empty chair.
“Luca, please! This is ridiculous!” Vanessa stammered, her voice cracking as sweat broke through her flawless foundation. “Are you seriously going to listen to an uneducated, jealous maid? She’s lying! She’s trying to set me up!”
Marco dumped the contents of the bag onto the crisp white tablecloth. A gold lipstick tube, a designer compact mirror, a silk handkerchief, and a sleek, vintage silver pillbox tumbled out.
Marco picked up the silver box and snapped it open. Inside sat a small cluster of dark, dried green leaves—identical to the bruised leaf Emma had lifted off the plate.
Luca didn't shout. He didn't smash a glass or slam his fist on the table. His calm was far more dangerous. He reached out, took the small silver box from Marco, and raised it slightly toward the light of the chandelier.
“Aconite,” Luca said softly, his voice echoing in the dead quiet room. “Wolfsbane. In high doses, it causes cardiac arrest within minutes. In small doses mixed with heavy food or alcohol, it mimics a sudden, tragic heart attack.” He turned his head slowly toward Vanessa. “My doctor told me last month that my blood pressure was slightly elevated. You knew that, didn't you?”
Vanessa shrank back into her chair, her face drained of all color. “Luca... no... I was forced! They made me do it!”
“Who is 'they', Vanessa?” Luca asked quietly.
Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but before a word could escape, Marco stepped behind her chair and grabbed her firmly by the upper arms, hauling her out of her seat. The surrounding guests remained frozen; nobody dared to intervene or speak up. They knew the rules of Luca Moretti's realm: when the Don handles a traitor, you keep your eyes down.
“Take her to the lower holding rooms,” Luca ordered coldly. “We will discuss her family’s debt later.”
As Marco and another guard dragged the weeping, protesting Vanessa out through the side doors, Luca turned his attention back to Emma. She was still standing there, holding her breath, her hands clutched tightly in her apron pockets.
“You,” Luca said, rising smoothly from his chair. His impressive six-foot-two frame towered over her, radiating authority. “What is your name again?”
“Emma... Emma Reed, sir,” she whispered, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.
Luca examined her face, taking in the fierce intelligence in her brown eyes and the unwavering courage beneath her modest servant's uniform.
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“You just saved my life, Emma Reed,” Luca declared, his voice carrying clearly across the silent dining room. “And in doing so, you have made yourself a primary target for whoever ordered that poison.”
He turned to his remaining guards. “Clear the room. The dinner is over. Lock down the mansion.” He then looked directly into Emma's eyes. “Miss Reed, you are not going home tonight. It isn't safe for you—or your family. You are coming with me.”
