Chapter 4 - The Mandate of Mercy and the Hidden Blanket
Back in the brilliant illumination of the dining room, the heavy silence hung thick enough to suffocate a grown man.
Luca Moretti remained standing at the head of the table, his dark eyes boring straight through Vanessa's flimsy excuses.
"The kennel?" Luca repeated slowly, tasting the word on his tongue as if it were contaminated poison.
"Yes, darling," Vanessa babbled nervously, her manicured fingers twisting the stem of her wineglass until her knuckles turned ghostly white.
"There must be some sharp metal protruding from the old wire fence out there, and she was careless enough to scrape herself against it."
Luca did not break eye contact with her for a single terrifying heartbeat.
"The kennels do not have wire fences, Vanessa," he said evenly, his voice dropping an octave into a register that made several visiting executives shift uncomfortably in their seats.
"They were rebuilt with solid polished cedarwood and reinforced security glass three years ago."
Vanessa's immaculate smile finally shattered completely, leaving behind a pale, panicked expression that she tried desperately to mask with a forced chuckle.
"Well—well, architectural renovations happen, Luca, or perhaps it was a gardening tool left out by the groundskeeper."
Luca completely ignored her pathetic backtracking.
He turned his full, unyielding attention back to me, standing frozen near the sideboard.
"Emma," he commanded softly, though the command brooked no argument.
"Let me see your shoulder."
I squeezed my eyes shut for a fraction of a second, shaking my head slowly.
"It is nothing, sir, just a minor occupational accident, please don't worry about it."
"If it is nothing, then you certainly will not mind showing me," Luca replied, stepping away from his chair and walking slowly around the length of the table.
The guests sat paralyzed, watching the dramatic confrontation unfold like spectators at a public execution.
Slowly, reluctantly, I turned my back to the room.
The three fragile safety pins finally gave way with a soft ping, the torn fabric falling loose to reveal the horrifying reality underneath.
A long, jagged, angry red scrape stretched diagonally across my shoulder blade, crusted with dried blood near the neckline.
A collective intake of sharp breath rippled through the seated crowd.
One elderly gentleman quietly and deliberately set his heavy silver fork down onto his plate, unable to look away from the gruesome sight.
Luca stopped dead in his tracks just two feet away from me.
His chest rose and fell in a slow, controlled rhythm, but the raw fury burning in his dark eyes was unmistakable.
"You have been working like this," he whispered, his voice dangerously quiet. "Bleeding through your uniform while serving my guests all evening?"
I could only nod mutely, tears stinging the corners of my eyes as the sheer humiliation and physical pain washed over me simultaneously.
Vanessa let out an exaggerated, frustrated sigh from her seat at the table.
"For heaven's sake, Luca, make her put a jacket on and stop making a theatrical scene out of a simple scratch," she complained, trying to salvage her shattered dignity.
"It is just a minor household accident."
Luca turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto her with a deadliness that commanded absolute terror.
"You have spent this entire conversation telling me what Emma needs, Vanessa," he said, his voice as cold as winter ice.
"Now, let me tell you what is going to happen."
Vanessa stopped breathing, her lips parting as she stared up at her powerful fiancé in sudden, unadulterated fear.
Luca turned back to me, his expression softening just a fraction as he looked into my tear-stained face.
"Emma, leave the bread basket right now."
"Sir, I still have two hours left on my evening shift," I protested weakly.
"You will be paid for the entire week," Luca replied firmly.
"I need the money for my mother's bills, Mr. Moretti," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"And you have more than earned every single cent," he answered without hesitation.
He turned his head toward the arched doorway leading to the domestic quarters.
"Mrs. Carter! Get in here immediately."
The elderly head housekeeper hurried into the dining room within two seconds, looking pale and terrified.
"Yes, Mr. Moretti?"
"Take Emma upstairs to the private medical suite right now," Luca ordered crisply.
"Have Dr. Harris examine that shoulder, clean it properly, and administer whatever pain management is necessary."
Vanessa shook her head frantically, standing up from her chair.
"She does not need a doctor, Luca, she is just seeking attention—"
"I said, take her upstairs," Luca cut her off with a terrifying flash of raw authority.
I started shuffling slowly toward the doorway, my mind racing as I remembered something vital hidden beneath the pantry sink downstairs.
It was a small, faded blue flannel blanket—Bruno's favorite baby blanket, hand-knitted by Luca's late mother when the golden retriever was just a puppy.
I had rescued it from his empty kennel earlier that afternoon before Vanessa's goons could throw it into the trash.
I stopped at the edge of the doorway and turned back toward the master of the house.
"Mr. Moretti?"
Luca paused, looking over his shoulder.
"Yes, Emma?"
I wanted to scream the truth out loud right then and there—to tell him about the van, the stranger, the cruel threats against my mother, and the terrifying reality of where his beloved dog had been dragged.
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vanessa glaring at me with murderous intensity, silently mouthing the devastating threat: Your mother.
"Nothing, sir," I whispered, swallowing the bitter pill of my own cowardice.
"Good night."
Luca watched my face for a long, searching moment, reading the hidden terror in my eyes far better than I wanted him to.
Then he said something that completely shattered my remaining defenses.
"Emma, when Bruno comes home tomorrow morning, I want you to take three days off with full pay."
My throat tightened painfully, a sob threatening to escape my lips.
May you like
Because as I turned and walked out of the dining room into the dark hallway, I carried a crushing burden that Luca did not yet understand:
I had no idea whether Bruno was ever coming home alive at all.
