Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO BROKE THE PORTRAIT
The house doctor arrived seven minutes later.
To Luca, it felt like an hour.
He had carried Hannah to one of the private guest suites on the second floor because it was closest, warmest, and large enough for the doctor to work without interference. Rosa was with Lily in the nursery down the hall. Daniel had stationed two guards outside the room with strict instructions that no one—especially Vanessa—was to come near it.
Now Luca stood near the bed while Dr. Enzo Ricci examined Hannah’s thigh.
“She needs stitches,” the doctor said. “The cut is deep but clean. More dangerous would have been if the blade caught the femoral artery. It missed.”
Hannah lay back against the pillows, jaw tight, trying not to react to the antiseptic burning through the wound. Her forearms had already been cleaned and bandaged. So had the cut on her cheek. But the leg wound was worse, and the amount of blood she had lost had left her shivering despite the blankets.
“I can walk,” she said when the doctor asked if she was dizzy.
“No,” Luca said.
Hannah looked at him.
Her eyes were clear despite the pain. Gray-blue, he noticed distantly. He’d never really looked at them before. He had seen Hannah Collins in passing for eleven months: carrying folded linens, kneeling beside Lily with a puzzle, setting flowers in the breakfast room, moving quietly through his mansion like part of its order. He knew she was efficient, soft-spoken, and kind to his daughter.
He had not known she was brave enough to run bleeding into a ballroom full of his guests and smash apart a giant portrait to get Lily back.
Dr. Ricci stitched the wound while Hannah gripped the blanket in both hands.
Luca remained in the room the entire time.
When the doctor finished, he straightened and pulled off his gloves.
“She should be taken to the hospital for imaging,” Dr. Ricci said. “I’m concerned about blood loss, shock, and possible glass fragments in the smaller cuts. She’ll also need antibiotics.”
Luca nodded once. “Prepare the car.”
Hannah pushed herself up a little. “No hospital.”
Both men looked at her.
“Excuse me?” Luca asked.
She swallowed. “I’m okay to stay here.”
Dr. Ricci frowned. “That’s not a medical recommendation.”
“I understand, but I don’t want to leave—”
“Because of Lily,” Luca said.
Hannah hesitated, then nodded.
“I heard how scared she was. She might need someone familiar.”
Luca held her gaze for a long second.
Then he said, “Lily has me.”
Hannah looked down.
“And,” he added, “that doesn’t change the fact that you need proper medical care.”
She did not argue again.
Daniel knocked once and stepped into the room.
“We found the knife.”
Luca turned. “Where?”
“Maintenance trolley in the service hall, just like she said. Blood on the blade. We also pulled camera footage from the west corridor. It doesn’t show the actual slash because of the angle, but it shows Vanessa blocking Hannah’s path and Hannah falling against the wall afterward.”
Hannah closed her eyes briefly.
Daniel continued. “We also checked the security log from the concealed room. The electronic lock was opened and secured at 6:42 p.m. using Vanessa Bellini’s access code.”
Luca did not react visibly.
But something in the air around him hardened.
“And Michael?” he asked.
Daniel’s mouth tightened. “He accessed the west hallway at 6:36. Same corridor. He claims Vanessa asked him to bring Lily a stuffed rabbit.”
Luca let out a cold breath.
“Where is he?”
“In the study. Under watch.”
“Good.”
Dr. Ricci began gathering his supplies.
“I’ll ride with her,” Luca said.
Hannah immediately looked up. “You don’t have to.”
“Yes,” he said quietly, “I do.”
She fell silent.
Ten minutes later, Hannah was carefully helped into the back of a black SUV. Dr. Ricci rode in front. Luca got in beside her.
The city lights of Chicago blurred through the darkened windows as the car pulled away from the Moretti mansion.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Then Hannah said softly, “Lily’s going to think this is her fault.”
Luca turned his head toward her.
“She won’t if I can help it.”
“She hears more than adults think she does,” Hannah said. “If people are whispering, she’ll know something’s wrong.”
“Do you always know what she needs before anyone else?”
The question surprised her.
She looked at him carefully, unsure whether there was accusation in it. But his expression was unreadable, only tired and tense.
“I’ve spent a lot of time with her,” Hannah answered. “She notices everything. But she doesn’t always have words for what she feels.”
Luca looked down at his hands.
Lily had not been the easiest child after her mother died. She had clung harder, cried more suddenly, developed fears around closed doors and darkness that came and went without warning. Luca loved his daughter with a force that frightened him, but he spent too much time being pulled in ten directions by men, money, and danger. He had hired staff, security, and caregivers because he believed that keeping the machine of his life moving was the best way to protect her.
And somewhere in that machine, Hannah Collins had become the person who understood his child.
“How long did she cry behind that wall?” Luca asked quietly.
Hannah answered after a pause. “Long enough to become hoarse.”
His jaw tightened.
The hospital was private, discreet, and loyal to Moretti money. Hannah received scans, additional wound care, and fluids. Several tiny fragments of glass were removed from her forearm. The physician on duty confirmed that no major structures were damaged in her leg, though she’d need rest, dressing changes, and no pressure on the wound for several days.
When the doctor finally stepped out, Hannah found Luca still sitting in the chair beside her hospital bed.
“You should go back to Lily,” she said.
“I will.”
“Then why are you still here?”
He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees.
“Because I need to say this while it still sounds inadequate.”
She watched him.
“You saved my daughter.”
Hannah looked away. “Anyone would have done it.”
“No,” Luca said. “They wouldn’t.”
The words settled between them.
He stood then, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. He placed a slim black card on the tray table.
“My direct number,” he said. “If you need anything tonight, you call me.”
Hannah gave him a faint look of disbelief. “I’m a maid, Mr. Moretti.”
His gaze didn’t shift.
“You’re the woman who bled for my child.”
Then he left.
Hannah stared at the black card long after the door closed.
May you like
And downstairs, in the cold bright waiting room, Luca Moretti called his attorney, his head of security, and a judge who owed him three favors.
By dawn, Vanessa Bellini’s life was already beginning to collapse.
