Chapter 4 - The Midnight Eviction
By the time the Maybach pulled back into the circular driveway of the Gold Coast mansion, the flashing red and blue lights of a Chicago Police cruiser were parked near the grand entrance.
Luca’s expression hardened instantly. He helped Maria out of the car, handing her over to his trusted head of security, Mateo. “Take my mother up to the master suite. Make sure she’s comfortable and has everything she needs.”
“Yes, boss,” Mateo nodded respectfully, gently guiding Maria toward the heavy oak doors.
Luca and I walked up the stone steps behind them. Standing on the front porch was Vanessa, her red evening gown looking ridiculous against the wet backdrop of the night. Next to her stood a nervous-looking patrol officer.
“Officer, that’s him!” Vanessa shrieked, pointing a manicured finger directly at Luca. “He’s harboring stolen property! He threw me out on the street without my belongings, and he refuses to let me retrieve my heirloom jewelry from the safe!”
The patrol officer stepped forward, resting a hand near his holster, though his confidence clearly wavered as he recognized Luca Moretti. “Mr. Moretti? We’ve received a complaint regarding—ạch—”
Luca didn't even look at the cop. He kept his cold, dead-eyed gaze fixed entirely on Vanessa.
“Officer,” Luca said, his voice cutting through the damp night air like a razor. “This woman was trespassing in my home under false pretenses, committing fraud, and emotionally abusing a guest. My security team has already packed her bags and placed them at the front gate.”
“That’s a lie! You’re framing me because you’re a paranoid thug!” Vanessa screamed, losing whatever shred of dignity she had left.
Luca slowly reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a sleek USB drive, tossing it casually onto the marble patio table beside the door.
“On that drive is six months of intercepted phone recordings,” Luca said calmly. “Including audio of you conspiring with my accountant to skim funds from Moretti Logistics, and your explicit instructions to the household staff to block my mother from entering this property.”
Vanessa’s face turned the color of curdled milk. All the fight drained out of her in a single second.
“You... you bugged your own house?” she whispered in horror.
“In my line of work, trust is a currency, Vanessa. And you went bankrupt months ago,” Luca replied coldly. He turned to the patrol officer, who was now backing away slowly, suddenly finding the rain very interesting. “Officer, I believe my staff has already escorted Miss Bellini off the premises. If she steps foot on this property again, my men will handle it privately. Have a good evening.”
The officer cleared his throat, touched the brim of his hat, and muttered, “Misunderstanding, sir. Have a good night,” before hurrying back to his cruiser and speeding away into the rain.
Vanessa stood alone on the porch, trembling with rage and humiliation. She glared at Luca, then her eyes darted to me standing safely behind his broad shoulder.
“You!” she hissed, pointing a trembling finger at me. “You ruined everything, you little kitchen rat! You won't last a week in this house!”
With a guttural scream of frustration, she turned and stormed down the driveway toward her stranded Uber, her designer heels clicking furiously against the pavement.
I let out a long, shaky breath I felt like I’d been holding for an hour.
Luca watched her leave, then turned around, running a hand through his damp dark hair. The tension in his shoulders finally dissipated. He looked down at me, his expression softening into something warm and appreciative.
“Are you alright, Emma?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
“I think so, sir—I mean, Luca,” I corrected myself quickly, feeling my face heat up. “Though I’m pretty sure I don't have a job anymore. Didn't you say I was a junior housekeeper? Well, the person who hired me just got evicted.”
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Luca chuckled—a deep, rich sound that sent an unexpected shiver straight down my spine.
“Your employment status has just been upgraded, Emma Carter,” he said, stepping closer until I could feel the faint warmth radiating from his tuxedo jacket. “Effective immediately, you are my executive chief of staff. And your first official duty is to come inside and make me another bowl of that chicken soup.”
