Chapter 2 - THE EAST WING SHADOWS
The garden suite was larger than any home Clara had ever lived in. A stone fireplace burned brightly in the corner, throwing warm orange light across velvet chairs, an plush four-poster bed, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Como.
Her worn canvas bag sat on the rug—a stark, pathetic reminder of her past. Inside it was a change of secondhand clothes, a small envelope of hidden cash, and the divorce decree she had finalized three months ago after escaping Grant.
A soft knock sounded at the door. When Clara opened it, Bruno trotted past her legs without waiting for an invitation and immediately flopped down on the sheepskin rug before the hearth with a contented groan.
Matteo stood in the doorway, hands shoved into the pockets of his tailored trousers, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the sharp line of his collarbone.
“He followed you from the kennels,” Matteo noted dryly.
“He likes the fireplace,” Clara said, stepping back to let the Don enter. She suddenly felt acutely self-conscious in her fresh, dry uniform. “I... I want to thank you for the room, Mr. Moretti. But Signora Russo was right. The other staff will resent me.”
“Let them,” Matteo replied, stepping closer. He looked down at her hands, which were still red from the cold stone outside. “I do not run this estate based on the feelings of my staff. I run it on loyalty and efficiency. Bruno accepted you. That means I accept you.”
“And if I drop something in your study?” Clara blurted out, her old insecurities rearing their ugly heads. “Grant—my ex-husband—used to say I couldn't carry a glass of water without making a tragedy out of it.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened at the mention of the ex-husband, a microscopic flare of annoyance passing over his dark features. “Your ex-husband sounds like a weak man who needed to diminish you to make himself feel tall. In this house, Clara, mistakes are punished only when they are driven by treachery. Clumsiness is merely a nuisance.”
He walked over to his dog, running a long, calloused hand over Bruno’s broad head. Bruno leaned up, licking Matteo’s wrist before flopping back down.
“There are dangerous people coming to this villa in three days,” Matteo said, his voice dropping to a serious, low rumble. “The Valenti family from Milan. We are negotiating a boundary dispute over shipping lines across the northern lakes. It will be tense. I need Bruno calm, and I need him near me. That means you will be near me.”
May you like
Clara felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. “I’m just a maid, Mr. Moretti.”
“You were a maid,” Matteo corrected her, turning toward the door. “Now, you are the only person this monster trusts besides me. Keep him calm, keep your eyes open, and stay close.”
