Chapter 2
The VIP holding room behind the main ballroom was a sanctuary of dark mahogany, velvet curtains, and dim, cinematic amber lighting. Luca paced the length of the room like a caged panther, his polished shoes silent against the thick Persian rug. He watched intensely as Hannah sat on a plush leather sofa, holding Sophia in her lap. The little girl’s pale-yellow shoes dangled over the edge of Hannah’s mint-green service dress, her yellow hair ribbon glowing softly under the ambient light. Sophia was utterly exhausted from the miraculous physical exertion, her bright eyes heavy, yet she refused to release her grip on the waitress's white apron.
"Start talking," Luca commanded, stopping in the center of the room. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest, his sharp masculine jawline set in stone. "Three years ago, a rival faction breached my home. My wife was killed. I was told my infant daughter survived because a newly hired night nurse hid her in the laundry chute before the gunmen breached the nursery. I was told that nurse was gunned down while fleeing the grounds to draw their fire."
"They shot me, yes," Hannah said, her voice trembling slightly as she instinctively rubbed her left shoulder. "But I didn't die. I fell into the ravine behind the estate. The current washed me two miles down the river before I pulled myself out."
"Why didn't you come back?" Luca demanded, his voice rising with controlled fury, his piercing eyes narrowing. "Do you have any idea what I went through? I spent millions searching for the woman who saved my child! I wanted to reward you, to protect you!"
"I couldn't come back, Mr. Moretti!" Hannah cried out, her warm, expressive eyes filling with fresh tears. "I was terrified! I was just a twenty-nine-year-old civilian who took a nanny job to pay off medical school debt. And suddenly, men with automatic weapons were shooting up the nursery!"
"I would have protected you," Luca stated coldly, his dark suit absorbing the dim light of the room.
"You couldn't even protect your own family that night!" Hannah shot back, her gentle, nurturing presence suddenly replaced by a fierce, undeniable defiance. She held Sophia closer, her fair rosy skin flushing with emotion. "I saw how they got in, Mr. Moretti. They didn't blow the gates. They didn't scale the walls. Somebody opened the biometric locks from the inside. Somebody who worked for you."
Luca froze, the anger draining from his face, replaced by a chilling, absolute stillness. "What did you just say?"
"I saw the man who unlocked the nursery wing," Hannah whispered, her voice dropping into a terrified, shaky register. "He was wearing one of your security uniforms. I didn't see his face, but when he punched the code into the keypad, the sleeve of his jacket pulled back. He had a very specific, jagged scar across the back of his right hand, and a heavy gold watch."
"A scar," Luca repeated, his voice barely a whisper, the gears of his brilliant, dangerous mind turning rapidly.
"That's why I ran," Hannah explained, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "If your own men were trying to kill Sophia, how could I ever trust you? How could I walk into a police station or back to your estate, knowing the traitor might be the one standing at the front door? I changed my name. I took catering jobs. I hid in plain sight, praying every single day that Sophia was safe."
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"Hannah is a good lady, Daddy," Sophia murmured sleepily, resting her head against Hannah’s chest, completely oblivious to the lethal implications of the conversation. "She sang me to sleep when the loud noises happened."
Luca stared at the plus-sized waitress, his entire worldview fracturing. The man he had trusted to run his security three years ago—the man who was currently outside coordinating the gala’s defense—had a jagged scar across his right hand.
