Chapter 3 - The Golden Cage
An hour later, I was seated in the back of a bulletproof Mercedes Maybach, flanked by two unmarked SUV escorts. Anthony and Lucia slept soundly in portable travel incubators beside me, full and warm for the first time in their lives.
Gabriel sat across from me, reviewing documents on a folding leather desk. He hadn't spoken a word since we left the hospital, but his presence filled the vehicle like heavy oxygen before a thunderstorm.
We pulled through towering iron gates topped with security cameras, driving up a long winding driveway lined with ancient oak trees. The Moretti estate in Greenwich, Connecticut, looked like an old-world European fortress. Stone walls, slate roofs, and sprawling manicured lawns.
When the car stopped, the front doors of the mansion opened, revealing a lineup of household staff dressed in immaculate uniforms.
At the center stood a woman in her late thirties, wearing a tailored cream silk dress that looked far too expensive for a family gathering. Her eyes were sharp, calculated, and fixed entirely on the car door.
Julianna Moretti. Gabriel’s late wife’s sister.
Beside her stood Marcus Moretti, Gabriel’s younger brother, a handsome man with a nervous energy, constantly checking his gold wristwatch.
Gabriel stepped out first, offering me his hand. I took it, feeling the solid heat of his grip as he guided me out of the car. Vance followed immediately, carrying the twin bassinets.
Julianna’s eyes swept over me—from my simple cotton coat to my worn leather boots—with immediate disdain. But when she saw the infants resting quietly, her smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
“Gabriel!” Julianna exclaimed, stepping forward with outstretched arms. “Thank God! The hospital called and said the babies finally took nourishment! Is it true?”
“It is true,” Gabriel said, his voice cool and distant. He didn't embrace her.
Julianna’s gaze dropped to me. “And who is this girl? A new nanny from the agency?”
“This is Emma Vance,” Gabriel announced, his voice carrying clearly across the stone courtyard so every servant and guard heard him. “She is my children’s personal surrogate wet nurse. She will be living in the primary nursery suite, directly adjacent to my quarters.”
Marcus frowned, stepping forward. “Gabriel, is that wise? A stranger living in the main house? We don't know her background. We have certified medical staff—”
“Your certified medical staff nearly let my children die of starvation, Marcus,” Gabriel cut him off smoothly.
Julianna’s fingers twitched against her designer handbag. “Gabriel, darling, I’ve been managing the nursery setup since poor Isabella passed. I can supervise Miss Vance. She can stay in the staff quarters on the west wing—”
“Miss Vance stays where I can see her,” Gabriel stated, leaving no room for argument. “Her safety and comfort are my primary concern. If she requires anything—anything at all—it will be brought to her immediately.”
Julianna forced a tight, brittle smile. “Of course. Whatever the children need.” She turned her sharp blue eyes on me, giving me a look so cold it sent a shiver down my spine. “Welcome to the Moretti home, Emma. I hope you have a thick skin.”
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As we walked into the grand marble foyer, Vance leaned close to me, keeping his face facing forward.
“Don't touch any food or drink in this house unless it comes directly from Mr. Moretti’s private tray, Miss Vance,” Vance warned under his breath. “The war has already started.”
