Chapter 1: The Dog Who Wouldn’t Look Away
"THE M@FIA BOSS WATCHED ME WALK HIS DOG ACROSS THE GARDEN WITH A SWOLLEN ANKLE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE TWISTED IT CHASING HIM THIS MORNING,” BEFORE HE EVEN ASKED.
By the time Luca Moretti noticed me crossing the garden with his dog, my left ankle was so swollen I could barely fit it inside my shoe.
I continued walking anyway.
That was the expectation in the Moretti estate.
If you were tired, you worked.
If you were scared, you smiled.
If you were hurt, you hid it.
Bruno, Luca’s massive black Cane Corso, trotted beside me with the leash loose in my hand, completely oblivious that every step sent a sharp bolt of pain up my leg.
The October air was cold, carrying the scent of wet leaves and rain.
I tried to concentrate on the gravel path.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Don’t limp.
Bruno abruptly stopped.
I nearly fell.
“Come on, big guy,” I whispered.
He looked up at me.
Then down at my ankle.
Dogs noticed things people chose to ignore.
“I’m fine.”
Bruno didn’t move.
“Traitor.”
That was when I heard the terrace doors open behind me.
My stomach dropped.
I didn’t have to turn around.
I knew who it was.
Luca Moretti.
Everyone in Chicago knew his name.
On paper, he owned restaurants, clubs, and construction companies.
Off paper, people lowered their voices before saying it.
I carefully glanced over my shoulder.
He stood on the stone terrace in a dark suit, one hand in his pocket, his expression unreadable.
His eyes weren’t on Bruno.
They were on me.
More specifically, the way I was standing with most of my weight on one leg.
He began walking toward us.
I tightened my hold on the leash.
“Good afternoon, Mr.
Moretti.”
His gaze dropped to my feet.
“You’re limping.”
Not a question.
“I’m okay.”
His eyes lifted to mine.
“I didn’t ask if you were okay.”
My pulse raced.
Before he could say anything else, heels clicked across the terrace.
Isabella.
His fiancée stepped outside wearing a cream coat, sunglasses pushed into her perfectly styled hair.
She saw me.
Then my ankle.
Her face shifted for half a second.
“She twisted it chasing Bruno this morning.”
Everything inside me went cold.
Luca stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned toward her.
I hadn’t told anyone.
Not the housekeeper.
Not the cook.
Not the gardener.
And I definitely hadn’t been chasing Bruno.
This morning, Isabella had found me near the greenhouse after Bruno carried one of her expensive silk scarves into the garden.
I had retrieved it before he destroyed it.
I thought she would be relieved.
She wasn’t.
“You encourage him.”
“He’s a dog.”
“He listens to you more than he listens to me.”
I had laughed nervously.
Wrong choice.
Her eyes sharpened.
“Do you think that’s funny?”
“No.”
I tried to walk away.
She stepped in front of me.
When I moved around her, she sh0ved my shoulder.
My foot landed awkwardly on the edge of the stone path.
My ankle rolled.
Pain exploded through my leg.
I dropped to one knee.
Bruno immediately ran between us.
Isabella stared down at me.
Then at the dog.
“You should watch where you’re going.”
Now she was telling Luca a completely different story.
His eyes returned to me.
“You were chasing Bruno?”
My mouth went dry.
I could feel Isabella watching.
Waiting.
“Yes, sir.”
The lie came out too quietly.
Luca’s expression didn’t change.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“What time?”
My mind blanked.
Before I could answer, Isabella said,
“Around nine.”
Too fast.
Luca looked at her.
“You were there?”
She hesitated.
“I saw them from the window.”
Another lie.
Bruno suddenly turned toward Isabella.
His body stiffened.
A low growl rolled from his chest.
Isabella frowned.
“Oh, stop that.”
The growl deepened.
Luca looked down at him.
Then back at Isabella.
“Bruno.”
The dog didn’t take his eyes off her.
I shortened the leash.
“Easy.”
Bruno immediately relaxed beside me.
Luca noticed that too.
Of course he did.
He stepped closer.
“Show me your ankle.”
“It’s fine.”
“Emma.”
His voice was calm.
Final.
I slowly lifted the hem of my trouser leg.
The swelling was impossible to hide.
Purple bruising had spread around the outside of my ankle.
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“That happened this morning?”
I nodded.
Behind him, Isabella sighed.
“She’s exaggerating.
She probably stepped wrong while running.”
Luca turned toward her.
“How do you know she was running?”
Silence.
Isabella blinked.
“I told you.
I saw her.”
“From the window.”
“Yes.”
He glanced toward the house.
“The greenhouse path isn’t visible from your window.”
Her face lost color.
My heart started pounding.
Luca looked back at me.
“Did Bruno run away this morning?”
I swallowed.
“No.”
The word escaped before I could stop it.
Isabella’s eyes flashed.
Luca went very still.
Then Bruno moved.
He stepped between me and Isabella.
Not aggressively.
Protectively.
His body pressed against my good leg.
Luca watched him for several seconds.
Then he looked at his fiancée.
“You said Emma hurt herself chasing him.”
Isabella crossed her arms.
“She did.”
Luca’s voice dropped.
“Then why is my dog acting like she’s the one who needs protecting?”
No one answered.
Rain tapped softly against the leaves around us.
Bruno growled again.
Luca’s eyes went cold.
Then he asked the question I had been terrified he would ask.
“Emma.”
I looked at him.
“Did Isabella touch you this morning?”"
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Will Emma tell Luca the truth—and how will Isabella react?
Comment “TRUTH” for Part 2.
