Chapter 1 - The Boiling Point
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The pressure inside the Moretti estate became suffocating over the next few hours. Lorenzo remained locked in his study, managing his syndicate while the blizzard howled outside.
Mrs. Gable, eager to prove her absolute control over the household to the master, became increasingly erratic and cruel. She prowled the corridors, searching for any minor infraction to punish.
Late that afternoon, Nora was in the grand dining room, polishing the massive mahogany table. Her lower back throbbed with a sharp, persistent pain, and she felt lightheaded from exhaustion and lack of food. She leaned against the heavy wood for a moment, closing her eyes, trying to catch her breath.
"Did I give you permission to rest, girl?" Mrs. Gable’s sharp voice echoed through the dining room.
Nora snapped her eyes open, standing up quickly. "No, Mrs. Gable. I was just—"
"I don't pay you to make excuses!" Mrs. Gable hissed, marching toward her. She held a heavy, ornate silver candelabra. "You missed a spot on the base. Do it again."
She shoved the heavy silver piece toward Nora.
Nora reached out to take it, but her hands were trembling so badly from fatigue that her fingers slipped against the polished metal.
The heavy candelabra fell, crashing violently against the imported marble floor. The sound was deafening.
Mrs. Gable’s face turned a violent shade of crimson.
"You stupid, clumsy wretch!" she screamed.
She didn't just yell. Mrs. Gable raised her hand and struck Nora sharply across the face. The slap echoed in the large room.
Nora gasped, stumbling backward. The sudden, violent movement, combined with her sheer physical exhaustion, was too much. Her foot caught on the edge of the thick Persian rug.
Nora fell hard onto her hands and knees. A sharp, agonizing cramp ripped through her abdomen, stealing the breath from her lungs. She cried out, curling instinctively around her swollen belly.
"Get up!" Mrs. Gable ordered coldly, looming over her. "Clean up this mess immediately, or I will throw you out into the snow right now."
Nora tried to push herself up, but another wave of blinding pain hit her. She couldn't move.
Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the dining room swung open.
Lorenzo Moretti stood in the doorway, his gray eyes blazing with a terrifying, absolute fury. The noise of the crashing silver had drawn him from his study.
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He took in the scene instantly: the broken silver, the cruel housekeeper standing over a fallen, pregnant maid clutching her stomach.
"What is happening here?" Lorenzo demanded, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register that promised immediate violence.
