Chapter 4 - Smoke in the Library
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After Vanessa disappeared down the hallway, I spent the next ten minutes trying to console a heartbroken twelve-year-old. I helped Matteo brush the sawdust from his trousers, told him his father would love the gift no matter what anyone else said, and promised him I would get the box back before the night was over.
Once he was safely in his room getting his tie on, I hurried down the servant’s staircase. I needed to find where Vanessa had stashed it. I checked the trash bins in the main kitchen, the recycling bags in the pantry, and even the coat check room. Nothing.
As I rushed past the massive oak doors of the private library, I stopped dead in my tracks.
The heavy scent of burning pine and old lacquer drifted into the hallway.
The library fireplace was rarely used unless Luca was having a late-night meeting. Tonight, it was supposed to be dark. I pushed open the heavy oak doors, my heart hammering furiously against my ribs.
The room was dimly lit by the flickering orange glow of a newly lit fire. And there, sitting squarely in the center of the roaring flames, was Matteo’s wooden box.
I didn't think. I didn't calculate the risk. I only saw the hours a boy had spent trying to connect with a grandfather he never knew, currently being reduced to ash by a woman who understood the price of everything and the value of nothing.
I dropped to my knees on the stone hearth. The heat was intense, blistering my face as I leaned in. The flames were already licking at the edges of the wood, the old, dry pine catching quickly.
I reached my bare right hand directly into the fire.
The intense heat seared my skin instantly, sending a blinding shock of pain up my arm. I grabbed the edge of the box, my fingers screaming as they clamped down on the burning wood. Gritting my teeth, I yanked it out of the flames and threw it onto the stone hearth.
I fell back on the carpet, clutching my right hand to my chest. My palm was bright red, already beginning to blister violently. The pain was agonizing, making my vision swim.
But as I looked at the hearth, I saw the box. One corner was completely scorched black, and thick gray smoke curled from the lid, but the structure was intact. I had saved it.
I reached out with my left hand, picking up the smoking wood, pressing it against my black apron.
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“What do you think you’re doing?”
I froze. Standing in the doorway of the library, bathed in the shadows, was Vanessa.
