Chapter 1 - THE SLAP THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING|
The sound of Vanessa Hart's palm striking Grace Miller's cheek echoed through the enormous living room.
For a moment, even the grandfather clock seemed to stop.
Grace stumbled sideways, catching herself against the edge of a marble console. Her hand flew to her face. A bright red mark was already spreading across her cheek.
Three-year-old Noah stood near the staircase, clutching his gray stuffed elephant.
"Don't hurt Mommy!"
His little voice trembled.
Vanessa turned toward him, her expression changing from fury to disbelief.
"What did you just call her?"
Noah backed away.
"Mommy Grace."
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
"She is not your mother."
"Stop," Grace whispered.
Vanessa spun around.
"Don't you dare tell me what to do in this house!"
That was when the front door opened.
I stepped inside.
Two security men followed me, but neither needed to announce my arrival. Everyone in Miami knew what happened when Luca Moretti entered a room.
I was thirty-eight years old, controlled a criminal empire stretching across several states, and had spent most of my adult life making powerful men afraid of disappointing me.
But the sight of Grace holding her cheek while my son trembled behind her made something considerably more dangerous awaken inside me.
I removed my black leather gloves.
"Who touched her?"
Nobody answered.
Vanessa recovered first.
"Luca, darling. Thank God you're home. This woman has been encouraging Noah to call her Mommy. I was simply correcting her behavior."
I looked at Grace.
She shook her head slightly, silently asking me not to make things worse.
That small gesture nearly broke me.
"Did she strike you?" I asked.
Grace swallowed.
"It was nothing."
I looked at my son.
"Come here, buddy."
Noah ran toward me, buried his face against my trousers, and began crying.
"Don't let Vanessa take Mommy away."
I lifted him into my arms.
"Nobody is taking anybody away."
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"Luca, this is ridiculous. You're allowing a housekeeper to manipulate your child."
I turned toward her.
"You're leaving."
Her smile disappeared.
"What?"
"Get out of my house."
"Luca, we're engaged!"
"Not anymore."
The words landed harder than the slap.
But Vanessa did not cry. She did not plead. Instead, she stared at Grace with an expression I had never seen before.
Hatred mixed with something else.
Fear.
She grabbed her handbag and walked toward the entrance.
At the doorway, she stopped.
"You have no idea what that woman has done."
I tightened my hold on Noah.
"Then explain it."
Vanessa's lips curled.
"Ask her what happened the night your wife died."
Grace went completely pale.
My arms tightened around my son.
"What did you say?"
Vanessa looked directly at me.
"Ask Grace Miller why she was at St. Catherine's Hospital at 4:17 in the morning, three years ago."
Then she walked out.
The front door closed.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
I looked at Grace.
She was crying now, but she wasn't looking at me.
She was looking at the gray elephant in Noah's arms.
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And when she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
"Luca... there is something about Claire's death that you were never supposed to discover."
