Chapter 3 - The Uninvited Guest
By the end of her second week at the Moretti estate, Grace had established a peaceful, predictable routine.
She arrived at seven in the morning, scrubbed the ground floor, prepped the dining room for lunch, and spent her thirty-minute break sitting on the back stone porch, sharing half of her turkey sandwich with Titan and Nero. The dogs had become her permanent shadows. Wherever Grace went with her mop and bucket, two gray, muscled beasts followed, lounging lazily on the rug nearby like overgrown footstools.
The rest of the household staff treated Grace with a mixture of profound awe and cautious distance. To them, she was the strange, thick-waisted woman who had somehow tamed the house’s most lethal resident monsters.
On a cold Thursday afternoon, the quiet routine was violently shattered.
Grace was in the formal drawing room, carefully polishing the silver handles of a antique mahogany cabinet, when the heavy front doors of the estate slammed open with enough force to echo through the entire mansion.
High-pitched, furious shouting flooded the grand foyer.
Grace peeked out from behind the velvet curtains. A young woman draped in a floor-length white mink coat, wearing razor-thin designer heels and oversized sunglasses, was marching into the house. She was followed by two stressed-looking footmen carrying five matching pink leather suitcases.
This was Bianca Vance—the daughter of a prominent shipping magnate and a woman who had been trying, very publicly, to secure a marriage proposal from Matteo Moretti for over a year.
“Where is he?!” Bianca demanded, tossing her expensive coat onto a mahogany bench without looking. “Dolores! Tell Matteo I am here! The traffic from the airport was utterly atrocious!”
Dolores hurried into the foyer, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Miss Vance. We were not informed of your arrival today. Mr. Moretti is currently in a private conference in his study—”
“I don't care about his conference!” Bianca snapped, adjusting her diamond bracelet. “I am freezing, my flight was delayed, and I expect a hot tea in the blue room immediately!”
At that exact moment, Titan and Nero trotted casually out of the side hallway, having heard the raised voices.
The moment Bianca spotted the two massive pitbulls, her face transformed into a mask of pure, unadulterated disgust and terror. She let out a sharp, piercing shriek that rattled the crystal chandelier.
“Get those disgusting creatures away from me!” Bianca screamed, backing up frantically against the wall, her heels clicking violently. “Dolores! Why are those violent beasts loose in the house?! They belong in cages!”
Nero, startled by the high-pitched shriek, lowered his head and let out a deep, chest-rumbling growl, his tail stiffening. Titan took a defensive step forward, his ears pinning back.
“Titan, Nero, freeze,” a calm, steady voice called out.
Grace stepped quietly out of the drawing room, holding her polishing rag. She didn't raise her voice. She simply walked over, placed her hands gently on the backs of both dogs' necks, and applied a light, soothing pressure.
The moment Grace touched them, both dogs instantly relaxed. The growl died in Nero’s throat, and Titan leaned his heavy shoulder against Grace’s hip, turning his eyes away from Bianca.
Bianca stopped shaking, her eyes darting from the dogs to Grace. She took in Grace's faded denim skirt, her scuffed sneakers, her thick waist, and the faint smear of silver polish on her cheek.
“Who on earth are you?” Bianca demanded, her tone dripping with condescension. “And why are you letting those filthy animals near my clothes?”
“I’m Grace, ma'am. The maid,” Grace replied evenly, keeping her voice entirely neutral. “The dogs were just checking on the noise. They won't hurt you if you keep your voice down.”
Bianca’s eyes flashed with furious indignation. “Are you telling me how to speak in this house? A servant?!” She stepped forward, pointing an acrylic-nailed finger directly at Grace’s face. “Get those brutes out of my sight right now, or I will have Matteo throw you out onto the street before sunset!”
“Is there a problem here?”
The voice was cold, icy, and dropped like a heavy weight over the foyer.
Matteo stood at the top of the grand staircase. He had shed his suit jacket, wearing only a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing dark tattoos winding up his wrists.
Bianca instantly transformed. Her harsh, demanding posture evaporated, replaced by a delicate, helpless pout.
“Matteo, darling!” Bianca gasped, clutching her chest as she glided toward the stairs. “Thank goodness you’re here! This... this crude woman you hired just allowed those horrifying monsters to attack me in the hallway! She threatened me!”
Matteo walked down the stairs slowly, his expression entirely unreadable. He reached the bottom step and looked at Bianca, then his eyes flicked over to Grace, who was still standing calmly with her hands on the dogs.
Titan let out a soft whine, nestling his nose into Grace’s apron pocket.
“Did they bite you, Bianca?” Matteo asked softly.
“Well... no! Because I screamed for help!” Bianca stammered, her lower lip trembling artificially. “Matteo, they are dangerous! You know they belong locked up! And this maid was completely insolent to me! You need to fire her immediately!”
Matteo walked over to Grace. He stopped just two feet away. His dark eyes searched Grace's face, taking in her calm, unbothered posture.
“Grace,” Matteo said, his tone quiet. “Did you threaten Miss Vance?”
“No, sir,” Grace said simply. “I just advised her that high-pitched noises make Nero nervous. I was taking them back to the kitchen for their lunch.”
Matteo turned back to Bianca. His face was like carved stone.
“Grace stays,” Matteo said flatly.
Bianca’s jaw dropped in absolute shock. “What?! Matteo, she’s a temporary maid! I am your guest!”
“Grace is the only person in this house who can control my dogs without a leash,” Matteo said, his voice laced with iron authority. “If you scream at her again, or if you scream at my animals, I will have my security detail pack those pink suitcases back into your car, and you can spend the rest of the weekend at a hotel in Midtown.”
Bianca turned bright red, her eyes darting between Matteo and the calm, chubby maid standing beside him. She opened her mouth to argue, but the cold, murderous finality in Matteo’s dark eyes silenced her instantly.
Without another word, Bianca huffed loudly, grabbed her designer handbag, and stormed up the stairs toward the guest suite, her heels slamming violently against the marble.
Grace looked at Matteo. “Thank you, sir. But you didn't have to do that. I’m used to people shouting.”
Matteo looked down at her, his amber-flecked eyes softening by a fraction of a millimeter. He reached out, his long fingers brushing so close to her hand that she felt the sudden heat of his skin as he patted Titan’s head.
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“In this house, Grace,” Matteo said softly, “people only get to shout if I give them permission. And I haven't given anyone permission to speak to you like that.”
Grace felt a strange, sudden warmth bloom in her chest, spreading all the way down to her toes. She nodded quietly, picked up her bucket, and walked toward the kitchen, with two heavy pitbulls trailing happily at her heels.
