Chapter 4 - The Housekeeper’s Confession
When Matteo returned to the penthouse late that night, the city below was a sea of glittering lights, oblivious to the blood on his hands. He went straight to his private study, pouring himself three fingers of scotch.
A soft knock interrupted his dark thoughts. Clara stepped into the room, wearing a modest sweater and holding a tray with a plate of warm food.
"You missed dinner, Mr. Rossi. I thought you might be hungry," she said softly, setting the tray on his desk.
Matteo looked at her. Really looked at her. Clara was not beautiful in the polished, artificial way Elena was. Clara was grounded, fierce, and carried a quiet strength that Matteo was beginning to find deeply captivating.
"Why do you stay awake for me, Clara?" he asked, his voice rough with exhaustion.
Clara hesitated, her hands nervously smoothing her apron. "Because you are protecting my son. And because... I know what it’s like to have a monster sleep in the same house as you."
Matteo’s eyes narrowed. He motioned for her to sit in the leather chair opposite him. "Tell me."
Clara took a deep breath. "Before I came to work for you, I was married. He was a cop. Everyone thought he was a hero, but behind closed doors, he was a nightmare. He broke my ribs twice. When I found out I was pregnant with Leo, I knew I had to run. I changed my name, paid off the right people, and disappeared. I took this job because working for a mafia boss meant my ex-husband could never reach me."
Matteo felt a strange, protective rage flare in his chest—a rage completely different from the cold anger he felt toward Elena. This was personal.
"What is his name?" Matteo demanded.
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"It doesn't matter," Clara whispered.
"It matters to me," Matteo said, leaning forward. "No one will ever hurt you or that boy again. Do you understand me, Clara? You are under my roof now."
