Chapter 4 - “Did you change their scores?”
“No.”
“Did you hire me because of my father?”
Luca shook his head.
“I interviewed you because of him.”
My heart tightened.
“But I hired you because you told me, during that interview, that my scheduling system was inefficient.”
I stared at him.
“You remember that?”
“You were unemployed and sitting across from the CEO, and you told me my entire executive office was wasting six hours a week because no one had centralized vendor approvals.”
“It was true.”
“You also told me I interrupted people too often.”
“That was also true.”
“You were terrifying.”
I almost smiled.
“I was desperate.”
“I know.”
“And after?”
“After three months, I forgot about the letter most days.”
“Most?”
His eyes met mine.
“Then your father’s name would come up, and I would remember that I hadn’t told you.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“At first, because I didn’t want you to think your career belonged to someone else.”
“That should have been my decision.”
“I know.”
“And later?”
He looked away.
“Later I was afraid you would leave.”
The room became still.
Not romantic.
Not yet.
Something more honest.
“You thought if you told me, I would quit?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s another Luca Moretti mystery.”
Something like regret appeared in his face.
“I had started depending on you.”
My anger softened despite myself.
“That isn’t exactly healthy workplace language.”
“I’m aware.”
He gave a quiet breath.
“I trusted you before I realized how unusual that was for me.”
The words sat between us.
Then the study door opened.
Julian appeared.
He looked at us.
Then the letter.
“Oh.”
Luca sighed.
“Do doors mean nothing to you?”
“Usually very little.”
Julian came inside and closed it.
“Grandmother sent me.”
“For what?”
“To make sure neither of you escapes through a window.”
I nearly laughed.
Julian’s expression turned serious.
“She also said Stefano is leaving.”
Luca straightened.
“Why?”
“He got a call.”
“That isn’t unusual.”
“He left something.”
Julian held out a folder.
Luca took it.
On the front was an old Moretti Holdings logo.
“What is this?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Julian said. “He handed it to me and told me to give it to Emma.”
“To me?”
“He said she deserves the whole story.”
Luca opened the folder.
Inside were photocopies of board minutes, property records, and a handwritten note.
Luca read it.
His face hardened.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
Emma,
Your father was more generous to me than I deserved.
For years I told myself he interfered in family business.
The truth is simpler.
He gave me a chance to correct a mistake without destroying my future.
I spent too long resenting him because gratitude would have required admitting I had been wrong.
There is one thing Luca does not know.
Your father did not come back to this house only for his father.
He came because of Luca.
Ask Rosa what Martin requested before he left.
—Stefano
I looked at Luca.
He looked genuinely confused.
“Do you know what that means?”
“No.”
That was new.
For once, Luca Moretti had no hidden answer.
We found Rosa downstairs.
Most guests had gone.
Elena and Valentina sat with her near the tree.
When Rosa saw the folder, she sighed.
“So Stefano finally found courage.”
“What did my father ask you?” I said.
Rosa became very still.
Luca sat beside her.
“Nonna?”
She took his hand.
Then she looked at me.
“Your father knew he was ill.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“He had been diagnosed shortly before he visited us.”
I remembered that year.
Dad had hidden his diagnosis for nearly two months because he hadn’t wanted Mom and me worrying before the doctors understood the treatment options.
“He spoke to your father,” Rosa continued, “and then to me.”
“About Luca?”
“Yes.”
Luca frowned.
“Why?”
Rosa smiled sadly.
“Because your father worried about what grief would do to you.”
“To me?”
“He said you had inherited the Moretti talent for turning love into responsibility.”
Julian sat quietly now.
So did Elena.
No one joked.
Rosa continued.
“Martin told me something I never forgot. He said a person can spend so much time protecting the people they love that one day they discover nobody actually knows them.”
The words seemed meant for Luca.
He heard it too.
“What did he ask?” Luca said.
Rosa looked at me.
“He asked that if life ever brought the two of you into the same room, I should remind Luca of that.”
I let out a slow breath.
“That’s all?”
Rosa smiled.
“No.”
Of course not.
“He also made me promise something.”
“What?”
“That if Luca ever tried to make choices for you because he thought he knew what was best, I should take your side.”
Julian laughed.
Elena covered her smile.
Even I did.
Luca stared at his grandmother.
“You’ve been waiting twenty-nine years to use that?”
“Almost.”
“That explains too much.”
The tension finally broke.
Not completely.
But enough.
Later, Valentina found me in the kitchen helping Elena arrange leftover desserts.
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
“For what?”
“I told you Stefano wanted something.”
“Yes.”
“I assumed it involved Luca’s inheritance.”
“It didn’t?”
“I think it did once.”
She leaned against the counter.
“But tonight he told me he was withdrawing his objection to Luca receiving Rosa’s voting shares.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“He said he was tired of treating family like a negotiation.”
That sounded almost too simple.
Valentina smiled.
“People occasionally improve, Emma.”
“I’m still adjusting.”
“A dangerous habit.”
She picked up a pastry.
“For the record, I’m also informing my father that I won’t participate in imaginary marriage negotiations anymore.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
She took a bite.
“You should probably tell Luca the same thing.”
I blinked.
“Tell Luca what?”
“What you will and won’t participate in.”
“I thought I already had.”
“Did you?”
Then she walked away.
I found Luca by the front window after midnight.
Snow had thickened outside.
Most guests were gone.
The house was quiet.
He held my coat.
“I should take you home.”
“Yes.”
He helped me into it.
For once, his hand didn’t linger.
The drive downtown was silent.
Not uncomfortable.
Just full.
When we reached my building, I turned toward him.
“Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not coming into the office.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
“Good.”
“I’ll see you Monday.”
I touched the door handle.
Then stopped.
“Luca.”
He looked at me.
“Why did you choose me tonight?”
His expression changed.
“I told you.”
“No. You told me Stefano expected you to choose someone.”
“Yes.”
“But you could have brought anyone.”
His gaze stayed on mine.
I could almost see him considering the safer answer.
Then, perhaps finally remembering my father’s letter, he chose the truth.
“I asked you because when I imagined telling my family I had chosen someone, there was only one name that didn’t feel like a lie.”
My heart stopped.
Neither of us moved.
“You said tonight was an act.”
“I know.”
“Was it?”
His voice dropped.
“Not all of it.”
Snow moved softly against the window.
For three years, I had believed the most dangerous thing about Luca Moretti was his power.
I had been wrong.
It was his restraint.
Because once he finally stopped hiding behind it, there was nowhere for either of us to pretend anymore.
I opened the car door.
“Good night, Luca.”
“Emma.”
I looked back.
He seemed about to say something.
Instead, he nodded.
“Good night.”
Upstairs, I stood by my apartment window and watched the car remain at the curb.
One minute.
Two.
Three.
Then it drove away.
On Monday morning, I arrived at the office at eight-fifteen.
Luca’s door was closed.
My desk was exactly as I had left it.
Except for one envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
No corporate letterhead.
No legal language.
Just Luca’s handwriting.
Emma,
You asked for normal after Christmas.
I don’t think I can give you normal.
But I can give you a choice.
At noon, the board is meeting to approve my restructuring plan.
Your name is on it.
Not as my assistant.
As Director of Strategic Operations.
The position was recommended by three executives before Christmas. I delayed the promotion because I was afraid you would think it was connected to your father.
That was another decision I had no right to make for you.
The promotion is yours if you want it.
If you don’t, I will support whatever you choose next.
There is one other thing I need to tell you.
Not as your boss.
After the meeting.
—Luca
I read the note twice.
Then looked toward his closed office door.
May you like
And for the first time since Friday night, I realized the question was no longer whether Luca Moretti had been honest with me.
The question was whether I was finally ready to be honest with him.
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