Chapter 3 - The Shadows of the Estate
The annual Moretti winter gala was scheduled for Friday night, an event where hundred-million-dollar business deals were brokered over champagne, and high-society elites wore their wealth like armor.
For Elena, it meant a week of endless, grueling labor. Day and night, she scrubbed, polished, and carried heavy trays, her body aching from exhaustion. Yet, every evening after midnight, when the rest of the mansion slept, she would retreat to her small, modest room in the staff quarters and softly hold Mia, whispering reassurances that everything would be okay.
She didn't know that Luca had stationed himself quietly in the dimly lit hallway outside her door on multiple occasions, listening to the soft, melancholic lullabies she sang to her daughter.
On Thursday evening, the eve of the gala, Luca summoned Isabella to his private parlor.
The room was dark, illuminated only by the crackling fire in the hearth. Luca sat in a leather wingback chair, swirling a glass of amber bourbon.
Isabella entered, wearing a silk robe, looking effortlessly stunning. "You wanted to see me, Luca? The caterers are driving me insane with the menu revisions."
"Sit down, Isabella," Luca said, his voice flat and unyielding.
Isabella arched an elegant eyebrow, sitting across from him with a light, confident laugh. "What is this about? You look terribly serious. Is it a business threat?"
"It’s a domestic matter," Luca replied, setting his glass down with a sharp clink. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "I want Elena Bennett relieved of all heavy duties effective immediately. Furthermore, her wages will be doubled, and she will report directly to Mrs. Gable in housekeeping, away from your personal supervision."
Isabella’s jaw dropped slightly, the sophisticated mask slipping for a split second before she recovered with an indignant scoff.
"Elena? Are you serious, Luca?" Isabella laughed, though her eyes flashed with sharp irritation. "The incompetent little maid? Why on earth are you wasting your time worrying about a servant? She’s slow, she’s clumsy, and quite frankly, she brings down the tone of the estate!"
"She works twenty hours a day, Isabella, and her hands are covered in chemical burns because you refuse to let her use proper safety gear," Luca cut across her, his tone dropping into a lethal register. "That is not incompetence. That is cruelty."
Isabella flushed red, standing up quickly, her voice rising in defense. "She is a hired employee! In our world, people like that exist to serve us! If I push her to meet high standards, that is my prerogative as mistress of this household—or future mistress, I should say!"
"Mistress of this household," Luca repeated slowly, standing up to tower over her. "Let us make one thing perfectly clear, Isabella. You manage the guest lists and the flower arrangements. You do not own the people who live under this roof. If I ever catch you speaking to Elena—or anyone else on my staff—with disrespect again, the wedding is off, and your father’s shipping contracts will be canceled before midnight."
Isabella stared at him, horror and disbelief warring in her chest. She had never seen Luca defend a servant—let alone threaten her over one. Realizing she had pushed too far, she quickly plastered on a tearful, wounded expression, reaching out to touch his arm.
"Luca... I’m sorry. I’ve just been so stressed with the wedding planning," she whimpered softly. "I didn't mean to—fine. If she means that much to you, I’ll leave her alone. I promise."
Luca pulled his arm away, unimpressed by her performance. "See that you do."
May you like
As Isabella stormed out of the parlor, slamming the door behind her, Luca stared into the fire. He thought he had solved the problem. He thought a warning would suffice.
He had wildly underestimated just how deeply vindictive Isabella Vance truly was.
