"THE MAFIA BOSS WATCHED ME SERVE HIS ENGAGEMENT DINNER WITH MY HAIR COVERING ONE EYE—THEN HIS FIANCÉE SAID, “SHE HIT HER FACE ON THE PANTRY DOOR,” BEFORE HE HAD EVEN ASKED WHAT HAPPENED.

I had almost made it around the table.

Three more guests.

That was all I needed.

But my left eye was swelling beneath the dark hair I had carefully brushed across my face, and every time I leaned forward to serve dinner, a sharp pain spread across my cheekbone.

I kept my head lowered.

My name is Olivia Hayes.

I was twenty-eight, had worked in Luca Moretti's Chicago mansion for nine months, and had spent the last four hours pretending there was nothing wrong with my face.

The bruise had started turning purple beneath my makeup.

My cheek was swollen.

And I had exactly seventy-four dollars left until payday.

Missing a shift wasn't an option.

Neither was telling Luca what I had discovered in the upstairs guest room that afternoon.

Twenty-six guests sat beneath the chandeliers, celebrating his engagement to Vanessa Bellini.

Vanessa wore a red silk gown.

Diamonds at her throat.

A beautiful smile that hadn't left her face since the first guests arrived.

At the head of the table sat Luca Moretti.

Thirty-nine.

Black suit.

White shirt.

A man who could make an entire room fall silent without raising his voice.

I approached his chair with a platter of roasted vegetables.

Normally, I would have leaned forward, served him, and moved on.

Tonight, I kept my face turned slightly to the right.

Away from him.

I thought he wouldn't notice.

I was wrong.

"Olivia."

My stomach tightened.

"Yes, Mr. Moretti?"

"Look at me."

I froze.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

He set down his fork.

"Your face. What happened?"

Before I could answer, Vanessa spoke.

"She hit her face on the pantry door this afternoon. Honestly, I don't know how she manages to be so careless."

My hand stopped above the platter.

Luca slowly turned toward his fiancée.

"The pantry door?"

Vanessa continued eating.

"Yes, darling. She's been complaining about it all afternoon."

I stared at the tablecloth.

Because I hadn't complained to anyone.

And Vanessa knew perfectly well that I hadn't been injured in the pantry.

Luca looked back at me.

"Did you?"

I could feel Vanessa watching.

"Yes, sir."

"When?"

"About four."

"What were you doing?"

"Putting away supplies."

Vanessa immediately added, "She was carrying towels and walked straight into the door."

Luca looked at her.

"You saw it happen?"

"No."

"Then how do you know what she was carrying?"

Vanessa smiled.

"She told me."

His eyes returned to mine.

"Did you?"

My throat tightened.

"Yes."

The answer came too slowly.

Luca noticed.

"Move your hair, Olivia."

My heart started pounding.

"It's really nothing, sir."

"Let me see."

Slowly, I tucked my hair behind my left ear.

The bruise was immediately visible.

Dark swelling covered part of my cheekbone, and a small scrape ran toward my temple.

One of the guests quietly lowered his fork.

Luca studied my face.

"Have you seen a doctor?"

I shook my head.

Vanessa sighed.

"For heaven's sake, Luca. She bumped her head. Do we really need to interrupt our engagement dinner?"

He ignored her.

"Olivia, did somebody hit you?"

My eyes immediately lifted toward Vanessa.

I regretted it before I could look away.

Because Luca followed my gaze.

And saw the warning in her expression.

He looked back at me.

"Are you afraid of losing your job?"

My eyes burned.

"Yes."

"You won't."

Vanessa gave an uncomfortable laugh.

"She's making this much more dramatic than it was."

Luca turned toward her.

"You were there?"

Her smile tightened.

"I never said that."

He watched her for another second.

Then stood.

"Olivia, leave the platter."

"I can finish dinner."

"You're done for tonight."

"Please, sir. I need the hours."

"You'll be paid."

He looked toward the head housekeeper.

"Mrs. Carter, take Olivia upstairs. Have Dr. Harris examine her."

Vanessa put down her glass.

"She doesn't need a doctor."

Luca looked directly at her.

"How do you know?"

Silence.

I started toward the doorway.

"Olivia."

I stopped.

"Was Vanessa alone when you hurt your face?"

My stomach dropped.

I looked toward her without meaning to.

She was staring directly at me.

"No, sir."

Luca's expression changed.

"Who else was there?"

I couldn't answer.

Vanessa reached for her glass.

"Darling, surely this can wait."

Luca looked at me for several seconds.

Then nodded.

"Go get yourself examined."

I left.

And for the next forty minutes, he behaved as though nothing unusual had happened.

He finished dinner.

Discussed the wedding.

Listened to his guests.

Even smiled when Vanessa mentioned their upcoming honeymoon.

By dessert, she had relaxed.

She thought he had forgotten about my face.

At 10:17, Vanessa went upstairs.

Luca waited until her bedroom door closed.

Then entered his study and called his head of security.

"Daniel. Pull the upstairs hallway cameras from three-thirty until four-thirty."

Five minutes later, the recording appeared on his monitor.

3:47 P.M.

I entered the upstairs guest room carrying fresh towels.

Both sides of my face were perfectly fine.

Two minutes later, Vanessa appeared.

She wasn't alone.

A tall man wearing a dark gray suit followed her into the room.

Luca leaned closer.

He didn't recognize him.

"Keep playing."

Four minutes passed.

Then the guest-room door opened.

I appeared in the doorway.

Vanessa followed.

She grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back inside.

I tried to get away.

The man stepped forward.

A second later, I stumbled into the hallway, striking my left cheek against the wooden doorframe.

Luca stood.

"Pause."

Daniel froze the recording.

For several seconds, Luca said nothing.

Then he asked, "Who is that man?"

"We're checking, boss."

"Where did he go?"

Daniel advanced the footage.

The man left through the service staircase at 4:09.

Vanessa followed three minutes later.

I didn't come out until 4:16.

Luca looked at the screen.

"Find out what he was doing in my house."

Ten minutes later, Daniel called back.

"Boss, we identified him."

"Who is he?"

"His name is William Mercer."

Luca frowned.

"Should I know him?"

"He's a private investigator."

Luca slowly stood.

"Who hired him?"

Daniel hesitated.

"Vanessa."

For several seconds, Luca didn't move.

Then he looked toward the staircase.

"Find out what he was investigating."

But before Daniel could answer, I appeared in the study doorway.

The doctor had examined my face and advised me to rest.

Luca turned.

"Olivia. Come in."

I hesitated.

Then slowly stepped inside.

He turned the monitor toward me.

"Is this the man you saw upstairs?"

My face went pale.

"Yes, sir."

"What was he doing with Vanessa?"

I looked toward the closed study door.

Then reached into my apron pocket.

And placed a folded photograph on his desk.

Luca stared at it.

The photograph showed him leaving a downtown restaurant.

Beside him was a woman in a cream-colored coat.

He recognized her immediately.

His former wife.

A woman he hadn't spoken to in nearly four years.

Luca looked up.

"Where did you get this?"

My voice trembled.

"Vanessa had a whole folder of photographs."

"What photographs?"

"Pictures of you. Your house. Your car."

I swallowed.

"And pictures of your former wife."

Luca went completely still.

"What did Vanessa want with them?"

My eyes filled.

"She told the man she needed proof that you were seeing her again."

Luca stared at the photograph.

Then slowly turned it over.

A date had been written on the back.

Last Tuesday.

He remembered that afternoon perfectly.

He had met his former wife to discuss selling the vacation home they'd purchased together during their marriage.

Nothing more.

He looked at me.

"Is that why Vanessa hurt you?"

I shook my head.

"No, sir."

"Then why?"

My voice broke.

"Because I heard what she told the investigator to do with the photographs."

Luca leaned forward.

"What did she say?"

I glanced toward the locked study door.

Then whispered the words I'd been terrified to repeat all evening.

"She told him to make sure the photographs were delivered to your former wife before the wedding. And to tell her you'd been having an affair with Vanessa for the last five years."

Luca slowly looked down at the photograph.

Then reached for his phone.

"Daniel. Find William Mercer."

A pause.

"And Vanessa?"

Luca's voice became very quiet.

"Don't tell her anything."

He looked back at me.

"Olivia, did you hear why she wanted my former wife to believe that?"

I nodded.