Chapter 10 - THE BREAKFAST TABLE
The next morning, the estate felt entirely different.
The heavy silence that usually suffocated the hallways was gone. The lingering dread of Vanessa’s presence had vanished with her.
I woke up in the massive master suite, wrapped in silk sheets.
For a terrifying second, I panicked, expecting to hear a sharp knock and a demand to start the laundry.
Then I felt a heavy, warm arm draped across my waist.
Luca was still asleep, his dark hair messy against the white pillows. He looked younger. The permanent crease between his brows was completely smooth.
I gently slipped out of his grip and put on one of his oversized button-down shirts.
I checked the adjoining room. Ellie was still asleep, her breathing slow and even.
I walked downstairs, intending to make myself a cup of coffee in the massive kitchen.
When I pushed the swinging doors open, the entire kitchen staff froze.
Seven pairs of eyes stared at me.
Mrs. Carter was standing at the island, holding a clipboard.
She looked at my bare legs, Luca’s oversized shirt, and the gold Moretti crest resting on my collarbone.
My cheeks burned. "I—I just wanted some coffee," I stammered, suddenly feeling like an intruder.
Mrs. Carter set down her clipboard.
She walked over to the espresso machine, poured a perfect cup, and placed it on a silver saucer.
She carried it over to me.
"Cream and one sugar, if I remember correctly," she said, her voice entirely neutral.
"Thank you," I whispered, taking the cup.
Mrs. Carter looked at the staff. "Back to work. We have a house to run."
As the kitchen burst back into motion, she leaned in close to me.
"I spent twenty years watching that boy build walls around himself," the older woman murmured. "Take care of him, Madison. Or I'll have to find my shotgun again."
I smiled, my eyes welling with tears. "I promise."
I turned to leave, but stopped when the kitchen phone rang.
One of the cooks answered it, his face going pale. He handed the receiver to Mrs. Carter.
She listened for five seconds before hanging up.
"Madison," she said, her voice tight. "The front gate just called."
"What is it?"
"Vanessa didn't get on the plane to Europe."
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My stomach dropped. "What?"
"She's at the gate," Mrs. Carter said. "And she brought reporters."
