Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Boardroom
The next morning, my life transformed in a whirlwind of luxury and tension. A designer wardrobe had been delivered to my room—tailored pencil skirts, silk blouses, and sharp blazers that replaced my worn waitress uniform.
When I stepped into the dining hall, Noah was already sitting at a massive marble table, eating chocolate chip pancakes prepared by a personal chef. Luca sat at the head of the table, an open newspaper in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other, patiently answering Noah’s endless stream of questions about dinosaurs.
"Mommy, look!" Noah cheered, pointing to a plate of fresh fruit and pastries. "Mr. Luca said I can have pancakes every day!"
"Only if you finish your fruit, young man," Luca corrected gently, without breaking his gaze from the newspaper.
I sat down across from Luca, feeling entirely out of my element. "You shouldn't spoil him."
"A child should be spoiled, Ms. Carter," Luca said softly, setting the paper down. "Life is hard enough when they grow up. Let him enjoy his morning."
An hour later, a dark sedan brought us to the corporate headquarters of the Romano Group, located in the top floors of the Grand Marquette. As I walked down the marble corridors beside Luca, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. Employees bowed their heads, executives whispered behind closed glass doors, and guards stood at every corner.
I was no longer Rachel the invisible waitress. I was the woman walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Luca Romano.
"Hold your head up," Luca murmured to me as we approached the main boardroom. "They are watching you for weakness. Don't give it to them."
I lifted my chin, squeezing my hands into tight fists. "I’m not weak."
"I know," Luca said, his voice laced with genuine respect. "That’s why you’re here."
Inside the boardroom, twelve powerful men and women sat around a long glass table. These were the board members, investors, and high-level operatives who ran the legitimate—and illegitimate—fronts of the Romano empire. Among them, sitting near the far end, was an empty leather chair.
Julian Vance’s chair.
Luca took his seat at the head of the table. I stood directly behind his right shoulder, holding a leather folder containing fake executive reports.
"Where is Vance?" one of the older board members, an aggressive man named Dominic, asked loudly. "There are rumors about a breach last night at the hotel. Security locked down the entire property. What is going on, Luca?"
Luca leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his knee. "Julian Vance committed treason against this company last night. He attempted to compromise hotel security and put an innocent family at risk."
Gasps rippled through the room. Dominic narrowed his eyes, glancing at me. "And who is she? A waitress from the third-floor catering team? You bring a servant into a board meeting while our operations are compromised?"
Luca stood up slowly. The entire room went dead silent. The air pressure in the room seemed to plummet.
"She is my personal assistant," Luca said, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper that carried more threat than a raised shout. "And if anyone in this room speaks to her with disrespect again, they will find out why Julian Vance left the city in the middle of the night."
Dominic swallowed hard, his face turning pale. He lowered his eyes. "Understood, Boss."
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Luca turned slightly toward me, his hand resting lightly against the small of my back. The touch was warm, firm, and overwhelmingly protective. "Ms. Carter, begin the briefing."
As I stepped forward, opening the folder, I realized two things simultaneously: Luca Romano was using me to show his strength—and I was starting to trust the most dangerous man in Boston.
