Chapter 2
I carried Lucy out of the breakfast room like she was made of glass.
Her arms were locked around my neck.
Every few steps, she looked behind us.
That hurt more than anything Bianca had done.
My daughter was checking to see if they were following.
“Daddy,” she whispered, “please don’t leave me with her.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
I stopped in the hallway.
I looked her in the eyes.
“I promise on my life.”
Her little fingers tightened in my shirt.
Behind me, Bianca started crying louder.
Not because she was sorry.
Because Emma still had the phone.
“You can’t believe that woman,” Bianca shouted. “She hates me.”
Emma flinched.
I turned around.
She stood near the breakfast room door, pale and shaking, clutching that phone like it was the only thing keeping her standing.
“Emma,” I said carefully, “come with me.”
Her eyes darted toward Bianca.
Marcus was pulling himself up from the wreckage of the map rack, one hand pressed to his ribs.
He looked at Emma with murder in his eyes.
“Give me the phone,” he said.
I stepped between them.
Marcus stopped.
Smart man.
Bianca wiped her face, her tears gone now.
“Vittorio, think about this. You are emotional. Lucy is upset. Emma has been trying to turn the staff against me for months.”
I looked down at Lucy.
“Has Miss Emma been mean to you?”
Lucy shook her head fast.
“She gives me sandwiches.”
My stomach turned.
“Why does she give you sandwiches?”
Lucy buried her face against me.
Bianca answered too quickly.
“Because children like snacks.”
Emma whispered, “Because Miss Bianca would send her to her room without dinner.”
The hallway went silent.
Marcus laughed once.
“Oh, come on.”
I stared at him.
He stopped laughing.
I carried Lucy into my study and locked the door.
Emma came in behind me.
She looked like she expected to be fired or arrested.
I sat Lucy on the sofa and knelt in front of her.
“Show me where you hurt.”
She shook her head.
“I’m okay.”
That was what children said when adults taught them pain did not matter.
I kept my voice steady.
“Baby, I need the truth.”
Lucy slowly pushed up one pajama sleeve.
There were finger marks on her arm.
Old ones.
Fading yellow at the edges.
Fresh red ones over them.
I had signed contracts worth millions without blinking.
I had watched men threaten me in boardrooms.
But nothing had ever made me feel as helpless as my daughter lifting that tiny arm like evidence.
Emma started crying.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I should have told you sooner.”
I looked up.
“How long?”
She shook her head.
“Mr. DeLuca—”
“How long?”
Lucy answered before Emma could.
“Since the blue dress.”
I closed my eyes.
The blue dress.
A charity dinner two months ago.
Lucy spilled juice on Bianca’s dress.
Bianca had laughed in front of me and said, “It’s fine, she’s only little.”
Afterward, Lucy refused to sleep alone for a week.
I thought she was having nightmares because she missed her mother.
My late wife, Elena, had died three years earlier.
I thought grief had returned in waves.
I never thought the nightmare was living under my own roof.
“Emma,” I said, “tell me everything.”
She took a shaking breath.
“She started small. Taking toys. Locking Miss Lucy in her room for an hour. Saying she was teaching manners.”
Lucy looked down.
“Then food,” Emma continued. “She said Miss Lucy ate too slowly. She said rich children were spoiled. She made her eat alone in the pantry.”
My jaw clenched until it hurt.
“Where was Marcus?”
Emma’s eyes moved to the door.
“Here.”
Lucy whispered, “He laughed.”
I stood so fast Lucy jumped.
I softened instantly and touched her cheek.
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded, but her eyes were still afraid.
There was a knock on the study door.
Not polite.
Sharp.
“Vittorio,” Bianca called. “Open this door now.”
I did not move.
She knocked again.
“This is insane. Are you really going to let a maid ruin our wedding?”
Emma looked down.
That word.
Maid.
Like Emma was not the only adult in this house brave enough to protect my child.
I pulled out my phone and called my attorney.
“Adrian,” I said when he answered. “I need you at my house now.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No. My daughter is.”
The change in his voice was immediate.
“I’m on my way.”
Bianca heard enough through the door to panic.
Her voice softened.
“Vittorio, please. Let’s talk alone.”
Marcus muttered something outside.
Then I heard footsteps walking away.
Emma’s eyes widened.
“There’s a back staircase.”
I opened the security app on my phone.
The live cameras loaded slowly.
Too slowly.
The breakfast room appeared empty.
The hallway appeared empty.
Then the back driveway camera showed Marcus getting into his car.
Bianca was not with him.
I checked the upstairs landing.
Nothing.
The nursery hallway.
Nothing.
Then Lucy screamed.
I spun around.
Bianca stood inside the study.
She had come through the hidden library door I had forgotten even existed.
In her hand was Elena’s silver locket.
Lucy’s mother’s locket.
The one Lucy slept with under her pillow.
Bianca smiled through her tears.
May you like
“If you call the police,” she whispered, “I’ll tell them your daughter attacked me first.”
Then she snapped the chain in half.
