Chapter 3 - The Blood-Stained Ledger
The study was cavernous, smelling heavily of aged leather, pipe tobacco, and ozone. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined three walls, filled not with decorative books, but with thick ledgers, municipal blueprints, and legal volumes. Behind the massive desk of black walnut sat Lucas Moretti, a fountain pen balanced between his calloused fingers.
Matteo had been gently ushered down the hall to the private library with a fresh plate of sliced apples and a mechanical puzzle, leaving Hannah alone with the most feared man in the tri-state area.
"Sit," Lucas commanded, gesturing toward a deep oxblood leather chair.
Hannah did not sink into it. She sat on the edge, her spine straight, hands folded neatly in her lap. "If this is about the role of a governess, Mr. Moretti, my references from St. Jude's Academy are all verified. But I must be clear—I do not work in homes where children are treated as pawns."
Lucas leaned back, studying her with an unnerving, predatory calm. "You were fired from St. Jude's three weeks ago, Miss Ward."
Hannah flinched, but held his stare. "I resigned."
"You were dismissed," Lucas corrected smoothly, sliding a thin manila folder across the desk. "Because Councilman Davis’s son repeatedly broke a younger boy’s arm, and when the headmaster covered it up to protect the boy's donation-heavy family, you documented the incident, bypassed the administration, and filed a report with child protective services. The councilman ensured you were blacklisted from every private school in the state."
Hannah swallowed dryly. "Then you know I don't compromise when it comes to the safety of a child."
"That is the only reason you are sitting in that chair," Lucas said. He leaned forward, resting his forearms against the dark wood. "The women in the salon today were not potential governesses. They were candidates sent by allied families who believe a widower requires a strategic wife to govern his household. They believed Matteo was an obstacle to be buttered up and pushed aside."
Hannah’s brow furrowed. "And you used them to test him?"
"I used them to see if my son still possessed his instincts," Lucas replied, his voice dropping into a register that made the hairs on the back of Hannah’s neck prickle. "A year ago, Matteo stopped speaking. He stopped laughing. His mother did not die of an illness, Miss Ward. A car bomb meant for me detonated outside his nursery school. Elena threw herself over him."
The breath caught in Hannah’s throat. She looked at the closed oak door behind her, picturing the small boy with the crooked train wheel.
"The men who ordered that strike are still breathing," Lucas continued, cold and steady as winter ice. "Until I find them, this house is a fortress under siege. I do not need a woman who looks at Matteo and sees a stepping stone to my fortune. I need someone who sees a boy who needs to be shielded. Someone who will notice when a wheel is broken before the carriage overturns."
He pushed a crisp, six-page contract across the desk toward her.
"Fifty thousand dollars a month. Full medical coverage for your younger sister's leukemia treatments at Sloan Kettering, overseen by private specialists I personally retain. In exchange, you live here. You do not leave the estate without armed escort. You obey every security protocol without question. And you protect Matteo’s peace with your life."
Hannah looked at the contract. Her sister Clara's medical bills were already threatening to drown her family in bankruptcy. But the ink on the page felt like a blood pact.
"And if I find that the greatest threat to his peace is you, Mr. Moretti?" she asked quietly.
Lucas stared at her, the dark intensity of his gaze unwavering. "Then I expect you to tell me to my face. Sign the paper, Hannah."
May you like
With a steady hand, she picked up the heavy brass pen.
***
