Chapter 6 - LUCA SENT TWELVE ROSES TO THE WOMEN WHO WORKED IN VILLA MORETTI
The roses arrived one by one.
Not bouquets.
Single red roses.
Twelve of them.
One for each woman working inside Villa Moretti that morning.
Rosa.
Me.
Two cooks.
Three housekeepers.
The laundry supervisor.
Two administrative assistants.
A florist preparing an event.
And even Chiara, the twenty-two-year-old intern who had started four days earlier.
Each rose had a black thread tied around the stem.
No note.
No threat.
It did not need one.
At 9:04, the first kitchen assistant found hers beside the staff entrance.
At 9:11, another appeared on a laundry cart.
At 9:17, one was placed on Rosa’s desk.
By 9:30, every woman in the household had one.
The message was obvious.
Luca could reach all of us.
Alessandro ordered an immediate security sweep.
Not lockdown.
He looked at me first.
I noticed.
“Recommendation?”
He asked.
Rosa nearly smiled.
“Secure entrances.”
I said.
“Staff choose whether to stay or leave.”
“Yes.”
“Anyone who leaves gets paid.”
“Yes.”
“No one is questioned as though they’re suspects.”
Matteo shifted.
“That complicates investigation.”
I looked at him.
“They just received symbolic threats.”
“If you make them defend their loyalty, you finish Luca’s work for him.”
Matteo stared.
Then nodded.
“Fair.”
Alessandro sent everyone to the main dining hall.
Not the service corridor.
The main room.
The same room where twelve crime families once ate.
Staff sat at the long table.
Some had never sat there in twenty years.
That fact alone made me angry.
Alessandro stood at the head.
No guards behind him.
Only Matteo near the wall.
He said—
“You received something because Luca Santoro believes fear will make this house turn on itself.”
Nobody spoke.
“He may have help inside.”
People shifted.
Alessandro continued—
“That does not make every employee a suspect.”
Several faces lifted.
“You may go home.”
“Full pay.”
“No penalty.”
“Security transport available.”
“If you stay, you will be asked to report anything unusual.”
“Not prove loyalty.”
Rosa looked at me.
Good.
One young cleaner raised her hand.
Actually raised it.
Like school.
Alessandro looked surprised.
“Yes?”
“Will our families be safe?”
His face changed.
“We will offer security support where credible risk exists.”
She swallowed.
“My husband works nights.”
“Give Matteo the address.”
She nodded.
Another woman asked—
“Is this because of Mrs. Bennett?”
The room went still.
I turned.
She looked embarrassed.
“No.”
I said.
Alessandro did not interrupt.
“This is because Luca has been involved with Black Thread for years.”
I continued.
“My husband found evidence.”
“Emma’s bear led us to more.”
“But Luca chose every threat afterward.”
I looked around.
“Do not let anyone tell you one housekeeper caused this.”
Silence.
Then Rosa said—
“Senior housekeeper.”
I laughed.
Others did too.
Tension broke.
Only a little.
The roses were dusted for prints.
Nothing.
Security footage showed no single intruder.
That was worse.
The flowers had been placed through normal internal movement.
Kitchen deliveries.
Laundry.
Office couriers.
Meaning Luca had multiple sympathizers.
Not necessarily criminals.
People who believed the old hierarchy was better.
By afternoon, the staff complaint office received seven anonymous messages.
Not threats.
Information.
One guard had been seen meeting Luca months earlier.
A kitchen supplier frequently received cash tips from an old Moretti captain.
A driver had complained Alessandro was “letting women run the house.”
Small observations.
For years, staff heard everything.
Nobody asked.
Now someone had.
The strongest lead came from Chiara.
The intern.
Twenty-two.
Four days on the job.
She approached me at 6:10.
“Mrs. Bennett?”
“Elena.”
She hesitated.
“I saw a man near the west pantry yesterday.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Staff?”
“No.”
“Guest?”
“Maybe.”
“What did he look like?”
She described him.
Forties.
Brown coat.
Scar beside the chin.
Rosa heard.
Her face changed.
“Marco Lodi.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
Rosa lowered her voice.
“Former Moretti guard.”
“Worked for Vittorio.”
“Alessandro removed him eight years ago.”
“Why?”
“Beat a driver badly.”
Cold moved through me.
Matteo confirmed.
Lodi had disappeared from legitimate Moretti payroll after dismissal.
Later linked loosely to Luca’s construction businesses.
Now he had been inside Villa Moretti.
How?
Temporary contractor badge.
Issued through estate maintenance.
Approved by—
Federico Neri.
The third captain with security access.
Alessandro summoned Federico.
Not secretly.
Not violently.
Office.
Lawyers present.
Police liaison informed.
Federico arrived furious.
“I approved twenty contractors.”
“Did you verify Lodi?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Maintenance sent the list.”
Maintenance said otherwise.
The list came from Federico’s assistant.
The assistant received it from a number registered to a shell company tied to Luca.
Federico’s face collapsed.
“I didn’t know.”
Maybe true.
Maybe not.
Alessandro looked at him.
“In the old days, not knowing would save you?”
Federico swallowed.
“No.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.”
Alessandro leaned back.
“Now we investigate.”
No broken hands.
No disappearance.
Federico looked almost more frightened by due process than violence.
That told me something about the old family.
Then Emma walked into the office.
She was supposed to be upstairs.
Of course.
“Mommy?”
I turned.
“What?”
“I made something.”
She held paper.
Twelve flowers.
Crayon.
Red.
Each one had black string drawn around it.
My stomach tightened.
“Where did you see those?”
“The ladies had them.”
Damn.
Children notice everything.
Emma pointed to one flower.
“I made this one pink.”
“Why?”
“Black string is ugly.”
Alessandro stared.
Same logic as Teddy’s ribbon.
Emma came closer.
“Why everybody got flowers?”
I thought.
Then said—
“Someone wanted the ladies to feel scared.”
Her face hardened.
“Mean.”
“Yes.”
“Did it work?”
The room went silent.
I looked at Rosa.
Chiara.
Matteo.
Alessandro.
“No.”
I said.
Emma smiled.
“Good.”
Then handed me the drawing.
Alessandro looked at her.
“Emma.”
“Yes?”
“What should we do with the flowers?”
She thought.
“Throw them away.”
Simple.
Rosa laughed.
Alessandro almost did.
We did not literally throw them away.
Police kept them.
Evidence.
But Emma’s question remained.
Did it work?
Luca wanted women in the house to shrink.
He expected fear to send them back through side doors.
Instead they talked.
Reported.
Remembered.
Connected details men with guns had ignored.
Within forty-eight hours, staff information identified three old loyalists who had entered the property.
One was Lodi.
One was a former accountant’s nephew.
The third—
Federico’s own assistant.
She confessed after police questioned her.
Luca paid her brother’s gambling debt.
Then demanded access.
She cried.
Expected dismissal.
Alessandro listened.
Then asked—
“Did you know roses were being used to threaten employees?”
“No.”
“Did you know Lodi was dangerous?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you report it?”
“My brother.”
Her voice broke.
“He said they would hurt him.”
Alessandro’s face hardened.
Old instincts.
I saw.
Then—
“Police protection for the brother.”
He said.
“Employment suspended pending investigation.”
Not forgiveness.
Not immediate destruction.
Consequence.
Protection.
Both.
When we left, Alessandro said—
“You were right.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Say it again.”
“No.”
“Shame.”
He almost smiled.
Then—
“Staff knew more than security.”
“Yes.”
“That bothers me.”
“It should.”
“Why?”
“Because people below power often see the structure better than people standing on top of it.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“You don’t consider yourself staff anymore.”
“I am staff.”
“You supervise half the estate.”
“Still employee.”
“You sit in security meetings.”
“Because the threat involves me.”
“You argue with me in front of captains.”
“That is recreational.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“You should not need my permission to have authority in a house you help run.”
My chest tightened.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the estate governance needs another structure.”
I stared.
“Governance?”
“Yes.”
“You sound like a hotel.”
“I own several.”
“What structure?”
“Independent household director.”
“Not reporting to me for staff matters.”
I froze.
“Who?”
Alessandro looked at me.
“No.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You haven’t heard—”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if you appoint me, everyone says I received power because you care about me.”
Silence.
There.
The thing neither of us said often.
Care.
Something more.
Alessandro’s voice softened.
“Then apply.”
I stared.
“What?”
“External panel.”
“Rosa.”
“Hotel HR.”
“Employment lawyer.”
“You apply.”
“If you win, it isn’t mine to give.”
That was smart.
Annoyingly.
“What if I lose?”
Alessandro almost smiled.
“Then I enjoy watching you complain.”
I thought about it.
For two years, I had entered Villa Moretti through the side door.
Cleaned rooms.
Swallowed insults.
Needed the paycheck.
Now a man once feared across Milan was suggesting a formal system where the person running his household employees would not answer directly to his mood.
Not revolution.
But something.
“I’ll apply.”
His expression softened.
“Good.”
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
One photograph.
Emma leaving school.
Taken that afternoon.
My blood turned cold.
Below—
FLOWERS WERE POLITE.
NEXT TIME WE TAKE SOMETHING THAT BREATHES.
Alessandro saw my face.
“What?”
I handed him the phone.
He read.
Every trace of warmth vanished.
This time, when he looked at me, I knew exactly what question he was fighting.
Do I ask?
Or do I act?
I swallowed.
“Immediate danger.”
His eyes lifted.
“Yes.”
“Protect her.”
The mafia boss returned.
May you like
But now—
with limits we had chosen together.
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