Chapter 5 - What Trust Could Not Buy

Matteo's first appointment lasted longer than he expected. Dr. Anika Shah asked him about the attack, his sleeping habits, and the rules he had built around the estate afterward. She did not ask him to surrender his caution. She asked which parts of it still served him and which parts now controlled him.

"I slept well once," Matteo admitted. "Someone was beside me."

"Was the person awake?"

"No. She was ill."

"Then that night tells us you can sleep under different conditions. It doesn't tell us that another person has become your treatment."

He disliked the phrasing because it was accurate.

Back at the estate, Elena heard that two men from one of Matteo's companies were coming to discuss household contracts. Teresa asked her to refresh the sitting room and then leave them alone. Elena complied, though she saw how uneasily Gabriel regarded the visitors.

One was Carlo Rinaldi, Matteo's cousin and an adviser who liked to speak as though every DeLuca property belonged to him. He wore an expensive camel coat and a smile that disappeared when he was not being watched. At the sight of Elena carrying a tea tray, he paused.

"So this is the housekeeper," Carlo said.

"One of them," Matteo replied.

"I've heard you're making exceptions for her."

Elena kept the tray steady. Matteo did not look at her when he answered.

"You heard an employee was ill."

"People are talking about the private wing."

"Then tell them to discuss their work instead."

Carlo's smile hardened. Elena set down the tea and left, but the exchange followed her through the corridor. She understood how quickly her job could be made into a contest between men who wanted control of a household.

Later, Carlo raised the issue directly. Gabriel reported it to Matteo because rumors about unguarded access could become a security problem. Carlo wanted Elena removed, arguing that her presence proved Matteo's judgment had softened.

"She crossed a door with a broken latch," Matteo said. "We repaired the latch. She became ill. We treated her. That's the extent of it."

"You spent the night in the same bed," Carlo answered.

Matteo's expression went still. "You have no right to discuss that."

The conversation ended, but the harm was already done. By dinner, Elena heard two members of the staff whispering that her position depended on Matteo's attention. She stood in the service corridor and realized that even kindness could make her vulnerable when other people used it as a story.

She requested a meeting with Teresa and Matteo together.

"I don't want to be treated differently because of one accident," Elena said. "I want my shifts and wages decided like everyone else's. And I'd like my illness to remain private."

Teresa looked at her with approval. Matteo listened without interrupting.

"You're right," he said. "I'll make sure your work arrangements go through Teresa."

"And I don't want anyone to say I owe you something."

His jaw tightened, not at her words but at the thought that she had been made to fear such a debt.

"You owe me nothing," he said. "Not for a doctor, not for a glass of water, not for that night."

Elena breathed out. It was the answer she needed, yet hearing it brought an unexpected sadness. Their closeness could not be safe if it rested on her paycheck.

Matteo told Teresa to enforce privacy rules for every employee and to document staffing decisions without his personal interference. He also instructed Gabriel to remind all visitors that employee medical matters were not conversation topics. Carlo was excluded from private household discussions until he could respect that boundary.

That evening, Matteo found Elena returning a clean book to the sunroom shelves.

"I should have stopped the rumors earlier," he said.

"You didn't start them."

"I allowed an opening."

She turned toward him. "You can't make everyone kind."

"No. But I can stop making my house reward cruelty."

There was an awkward silence. The attraction neither of them had named was beginning to alter how they stood near each other, how carefully they chose their words. Elena folded her hands in front of her gray uniform.

"I'm grateful," she said. "I don't want gratitude mistaken for anything else."

"Neither do I."

Matteo stepped back, leaving her a clear path to the door. The gesture mattered more than a grand promise would have.

That night, he slept alone. He woke twice, practiced the grounding exercises Dr. Shah had given him, and eventually returned to sleep. It was neither effortless nor perfect. It was his work to do.

The next morning, Carlo sent him a blunt message: If the staff can challenge your authority, the business will be next.

Matteo read it over coffee and understood that the greater test was coming. He had defended Elena as an employee. Soon he would need to prove that the change in his judgment was more than affection for one person.

Elena told Teresa about the meeting afterward. The older woman's face softened, then grew serious.

"You did the right thing," Teresa said. "You can respect a man without allowing the household to turn you into a rumor."

"Was he angry?"

"Not with you. He looked angry that you had to ask."

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Elena considered this while folding her fresh uniform for the next day. She still believed Matteo had acted kindly that night, but he had also frightened her with an answer he hadn't explained. She was relieved he could hear that without treating it as an attack.

In his study, Matteo wrote three words on a blank sheet of paper: care, control, choice. He could not decide which of them had governed most of his recent decisions. The fact that the answer was no longer obvious disturbed him more usefully than Carlo's insult.