Chapter 8 - The Morning Everyone Believed the Lie
By sunrise, America had opinions about my love life.
Financial networks debated whether Luca should remain CEO.
Lifestyle websites ranked my Christmas dress.
A morning talk show displayed photographs of us and asked body-language experts whether our relationship was “real passion or strategic performance.”
My mother called at six-twenty.
I answered.
“Hi, Mom.”
“You’re dating your boss?”
“Good morning to you too.”
“Emma.”
“It’s complicated.”
“He’s very handsome.”
“Mother.”
“I’m upset, not blind.”
I covered my face.
Across the mansion kitchen, Luca was drinking espresso while pretending not to listen.
My mother continued.
“Does he treat you well?”
Luca looked toward me.
I turned away.
“He’s learning.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Your father wants to speak to him.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Emma.”
“I’ll call later.”
I hung up.
Luca looked amused.
“Your father wants to speak to me?”
“No.”
“I heard—”
“You heard nothing.”
At eight, his legal team arrived.
By nine, the dining room had become a war room.
Documents covered the table.
Televisions played financial coverage with the sound muted.
Victor’s interview had been carefully phrased.
He never accused Luca of wrongdoing.
He merely expressed “concern.”
Concern about governance.
Concern about reputation.
Concern that personal choices could affect shareholders.
It was elegant sabotage.
Then the stock dropped four percent.
Luca watched the ticker.
His expression didn’t change.
I knew him well enough to understand he was furious.
“Can he force you out?” I asked.
“Not alone.”
“Can the board?”
“Yes.”
“Will they?”
“Depends how frightened they become.”
Sienna entered.
“Another problem.”
Luca looked up.
“Of course.”
She handed him a tablet.
A photograph showed me leaving Luca’s hotel suite in Boston ten months earlier.
My stomach dropped.
“That was the investor trip.”
“I know,” Luca said.
The timestamp read 2:17 a.m.
Exactly when I had left after our room-service dinner.
The headline underneath:
SECRET AFFAIR MAY HAVE BEGUN MONTHS EARLIER.
“Who had this?” I whispered.
Sienna answered.
“Hotel security footage.”
Luca looked at her sharply.
“That isn’t public.”
“Someone bought access.”
“Find out who.”
“I’m trying.”
I stared at the photograph.
One innocent night.
Now transformed into evidence.
“This could destroy the compliance finding.”
“No,” Luca said.
“How?”
“There was no affair.”
“People don’t need proof anymore. They need a picture.”
He came around the table.
“Emma.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
It was such a simple sentence.
No strategy.
No explanation.
Just regret.
My anger softened despite myself.
“This isn’t entirely your fault.”
“Enough of it is.”
For the rest of the morning, reporters surrounded Moretti Holdings.
I couldn’t enter the building without cameras.
By noon, someone had published my salary.
By one, my home address was circulating online.
That changed everything.
Luca read the message from Sienna.
His face turned frighteningly calm.
“You’re staying here.”
“No.”
“Your address is public.”
“I can stay with my parents.”
“Reporters know where they live.”
“How?”
“Someone accessed employment records.”
I stared.
“That’s illegal.”
“Yes.”
“You sound unsurprised.”
“I’m rarely surprised by desperate people.”
“Luca, I don’t want security guards following me.”
“I don’t care.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Wrong answer.”
He corrected himself immediately.
“I care deeply about your preference. I’m ignoring it.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
He looked relieved.
That evening, Isabella arrived.
No makeup.
Jeans.
Cashmere sweater.
She looked more human than I had ever seen her.
“I left my father’s house.”
Luca frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I told him if he’s behind this, I’m done.”
“Is he?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at me.
“But I found something.”
From her bag, she produced a printed email.
“My father and Victor have been communicating for months.”
Luca took it.
The email discussed “succession leverage.”
Nothing explicit.
But enough.
One line mattered most:
The assistant remains the obvious vulnerability.
My skin went cold.
“This was written six weeks ago,” I said.
Before the party.
Before our fake relationship.
Luca looked at Isabella.
“How did they know?”
She shook her head.
“They didn’t know you were dating.”
“We weren’t.”
“Then why call Emma a vulnerability?”
Silence.
Julian, standing near the fireplace, spoke slowly.
“Because someone knew Luca loved her.”
I looked at Luca.
He looked furious.
Not embarrassed.
Furious.
“Who knew?” I asked.
“Almost no one.”
“Your grandmother.”
“Yes.”
“Julian?”
Julian raised both hands.
“I suspected. I didn’t know.”
“Sienna?”
“Probably.”
“Sofia?”
Luca hesitated.
“My father’s old attorney.”
“Why?”
“Because of the promotion documents.”
There it was.
Somebody had seen Luca restructuring my role.
They had understood why.
And they had weaponized it before Luca even confessed.
Isabella sat down.
“My father’s not trying to make you marry me anymore.”
Luca looked at her.
“What does he want?”
“For you to lose control.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor promised him something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
A knock came at the front door.
Sienna entered moments later carrying a courier envelope.
“No return address.”
Luca opened it.
Inside was a single page.
He read it.
His face changed.
“What?” I asked.
He handed it to me.
The message contained only one sentence.
RESIGN BEFORE THE BOARD VOTE, AND EMMA BENNETT’S PRIVATE LIFE STAYS PRIVATE.
I read it twice.
Then looked up.
“What private life?”
Luca’s gaze was fixed on me.
“I don’t know.”
But someone did.
And suddenly this wasn’t just about Luca’s company.
May you like
Someone had decided I was the pressure point.
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