“My husband used to say that the Morettis don’t fall in love easily. But when we do, it’s the kind of love that rewrites everything.”
She left Emma sitting there, heart racing, book forgotten.
That night, Emma told Luca what Teresa had said.
They were in bed, tangled together in the dark, her head on his chest, his hand tracing absent patterns on her shoulder.
“She’s right,” Luca said quietly.
“About what?”
“The rewriting part.”
Emma tilted her head to look at him. “What did I rewrite?”
Luca’s hand stilled. “Everything. The way I think about this house. The way I move through the world. The way I breathe.”
Emma’s eyes burned.
“I used to think love was a liability,” Luca continued. “Something that made you weak. Gave people leverage. Made you vulnerable.”
“And now?”
“Now I think it’s the only thing that makes any of this worth surviving.”
Emma kissed him.
They made love slowly, carefully, like they were learning a language only they spoke.
Afterward, Emma lay awake, listening to Luca’s breathing even out beside her.
She thought about Sophie, safe in Chicago. About Teresa, who had engineered this entire thing without either of them realizing. About Camille, who had disappeared after that dinner and hadn’t been seen since.
She thought about the maid she’d been six months ago. Invisible. Exhausted. Desperate enough to lie to one of the most powerful families in the city.
That version of herself felt impossibly distant now.
Emma turned to look at Luca.
Even in sleep, he looked like he was bracing for a fight.
She pressed her palm against his chest, right over his heart.
He settled.
And Emma finally understood what Teresa had meant.
This wasn’t just love.
It was the kind of love that rewrites everything.
The truth came exactly three weeks later.
Emma was in the garden when she heard the shouting.
She ran inside to find Luca standing in the foyer, phone in hand, expression colder than she’d ever seen it.
“What happened?”
“Camille.”
Emma’s stomach dropped. “What about her?”
Luca handed her the phone.
On the screen was a news article. The headline made Emma’s blood go cold.
SOCIALITE CAMILLE RUSSO ARRESTED IN CONNECTION WITH EMBEZZLEMENT SCHEME
Emma read faster.
Camille had been stealing from her family’s charity foundation for years. Funneling money into offshore accounts. Using her social connections to hide the trail.
The investigation had been ongoing for months.
And the lead detective had just confirmed that an anonymous tip from someone close to the Moretti family had provided the evidence needed to make the arrest.
Emma looked up at Luca.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“When?”
“The night of our first dinner. She mentioned a property deal her family had just closed. But I’d heard from my own sources that the deal had fallen through weeks earlier.”
Emma’s hands were shaking. “So you used me to get rid of her.”
“No.” Luca’s voice was sharp. “I used you to keep her away from my family while I confirmed what she was. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Emma—”
“You let me think I was helping you avoid a bad date. But really, you were protecting your family from a criminal.”
“Yes.”
