Chapter 8 - Morning at the Manor
The dawn broke over the Vance estate with a crisp, clear golden light that washed away the shadows of the violent night. The storm had passed, leaving the autumn leaves glistening with dew.
In the grand dining room, the crystal chandeliers were turned off, letting natural sunlight flood through the tall arched windows. Sitting at the head of the long mahogany table was not a board of directors or high-society dignitaries, but Mrs. Russo, wearing her favorite floral apron over a clean woolen dress.
In front of her sat the birthday cake. The white sponge was slightly lopsided, and the blue frosting script—*My Little Bear*—was smeared slightly near the edge, but it looked more precious than any Michelin-starred dessert in the world.
Luca sat to her right, wearing a simple gray cashmere sweater, looking more relaxed and human than anyone had ever seen him. I stood near the sideboard with a silver pitcher of fresh coffee, waiting to serve them.
"Emily," Luca called out, turning to look at me. "Put that pitcher down and pull up a chair."
"Mr. Vance, I’m on duty," I protested gently. "The house needs cleaning after last night, and the kitchen staff—"
"The kitchen staff have all been given a paid week off," Luca interrupted, his voice firm yet filled with warmth. "And your days of carrying silver pitchers are over. Sit down. Please."
I hesitated for a moment, then walked over and pulled out the chair to his left. As I sat down, Luca cut three thick slices of the cake and placed one on my plate.
"To family," Mrs. Russo said, lifting her teacup with a radiant smile. "The one we're born with, and the one we choose."
"To family," Luca agreed, clinking his cup against hers, then turning to clink his cup against mine.
As we ate, the front doors echoed with a sharp, frantic knocking. Luca frowned slightly, setting his fork down. "Stay here. I’ll see who it is."
He walked through the grand foyer and opened the heavy double doors. I followed him at a distance, curiosity getting the better of me.
Standing on the porch was Vanessa’s mother, Evelyn Sterling. She was a woman known throughout New York society for her venomous tongue and ruthless social climbing. But today, her makeup was smeared, her fur coat hung awkwardly off her shoulders, and her hands shook violently.
"Luca!" she cried out, trying to push her way past him. "You have to drop the charges! The SEC has frozen our offshore accounts! They arrested Richard at the federal courthouse two hours ago, and Vanessa is being held on conspiracy charges! You're destroying our family!"
Luca didn't budge an inch. He blocked the doorway like a mountain of stone.
"Your husband destroyed six families twenty years ago, Evelyn," Luca said with ice in his veins. "And your daughter tried to destroy the only mother I had left. You brought this upon yourselves."
"We gave you everything!" Evelyn screamed, her face contorting with malice. "We gave you social status! We introduced you to the governor! Without us, you're just the son of a filthy ship mechanic who got lucky!"
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"My father built this empire with clean hands and honest sweat," Luca replied coldly. "Your husband built his on drowned men and extortion. If you set foot on this property again, I will have the marshals arrest you for trespassing. Now get off my porch."
Without waiting for another word, Luca shut the heavy door right in her face, cutting off her shrill cries with a resounding, final thud.
