Chapter 6 - What Giovanni Had Known for Eight Months
Paul Lang's arrest didn't end everything overnight.
But it ended the immediate threat.
Peter agreed to cooperate.
Carlo was found alive in a motel in New Jersey. Paul had threatened his family and forced him to provide access to Luca's vehicle.
Derek Voss confessed.
The warehouse attacks were connected to shell companies Paul had spent years building.
He had been stealing from Moretti-controlled businesses, and Peter had started noticing irregularities.
Paul needed Giovanni distracted long enough to destroy financial records and move money.
I had simply become the most convenient pressure point.
Two weeks later, I returned to the townhouse.
My eye had faded from purple to yellow.
My ribs still hurt when I laughed.
Rosa met me at the entrance.
“What are you doing here?”
“Working.”
“No.”
“Why does everyone in this house say that to me?”
“Because you don't listen.”
She pointed upstairs.
“Study.”
I sighed.
“Of course.”
Giovanni was behind his desk when I entered.
A folder sat in front of him.
“You summoned me?”
“I requested your presence.”
“Rosa said ‘study’ like I was being sent to the principal.”
“Sit.”
I sat.
He pushed the folder toward me.
I opened it.
Then stopped.
My medical debt.
Every statement.
Every payment.
Balance:
$0.00.
I stared at the page.
“No.”
Giovanni leaned back.
“You haven't even heard the explanation.”
“I don't need one.”
“You were attacked because of your employment here.”
“So workers' compensation exists.”
“This is slightly outside their standard paperwork.”
“You paid forty-seven thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
I closed the folder.
“I can't accept this.”
“You already did.”
“Then undo it.”
“That isn't how debt repayment works.”
“Giovanni.”
“Lauren.”
I glared at him.
He looked annoyingly calm.
“Why?”
For once, he didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, “Because I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“About the debt.”
My stomach dropped.
“You investigated me?”
“I investigate everyone who works in my home.”
“That is incredibly creepy.”
“It has occasionally been described that way.”
“You knew for eight months?”
“Yes.”
“And you never said anything?”
“It wasn't my business.”
I stared at him.
“You knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about my debt.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“You send part of every paycheck to your sister.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Stop talking.”
“You take the subway because you sold your car.”
“Giovanni.”
“You replace the orchids in the library personally when one dies because you're convinced I'll notice.”
I blinked.
“You noticed?”
“I notice everything in my house.”
Something about the way he said it made me quiet.
He stood.
“When you first came here, Rosa told me you refused an advance.”
“I didn't earn it.”
“She said the same thing.”
He walked toward the window.
“I respected that.”
“Then why pay the debt now?”
He turned.
“Because this time, you did earn something.”
“I got beaten.”
“You survived an attack meant to manipulate me. You identified the flaw in their plan. You helped expose Paul. And despite being terrified, you refused to let anyone make decisions over your head.”
He paused.
“Consider it compensation.”
“Forty-seven thousand dollars is not compensation.”
“For me, it's less expensive than replacing the study windows.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“You've cleaned the same window fourteen times when nervous.”
I looked toward it.
He was right.
I started laughing.
Then grabbed my ribs.
“Don't make me laugh.”
His expression softened.
“I'll try.”
I closed the folder.
“I still don't like it.”
“You don't have to.”
“I might repay you.”
“I'll refuse.”
“I might send checks.”
“I'll return them.”
“I might hide cash around your house.”
“That would create an interesting relationship with the IRS.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then I noticed another envelope.
“What’s that?”
“Open it.”
Inside was an employment contract.
Not housekeeping.
Household Operations Coordinator.
I looked at the salary.
Then looked again.
“This is a mistake.”
“No.”
“This is almost three times what I make.”
“Yes.”
“What exactly would I do?”
“Manage vendors. Staff schedules. Household security coordination. Anything involving people Franco frightens unnecessarily.”
From the hallway, Franco shouted:
“I heard that.”
Giovanni didn't blink.
I laughed again.
“Why me?”
“Because you notice things.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“And because when everyone else in a room tells me what they think I want to hear, you tell me I'm wrong.”
“That seems like a dangerous job.”
“It probably is.”
I studied the contract.
“When do I start?”
Giovanni's mouth curved.
“After your ribs heal.”
“Monday.”
“Two weeks.”
“Wednesday.”
“One week.”
“Deal.”
He held out his hand.
I took it.
But neither of us released immediately.
Something had changed.
Not because he had paid my debt.
Not because he was Giovanni Moretti.
Because for eight months I had believed I was invisible.
And I finally understood something.
I had never been invisible to him.
May you like
Not once.
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