Chapter 7 - THE GIRL ROSE WOULD BURN THE WORLD FOR
Tessa did not know most of the truth.
Rose intended to keep it that way.
She told her only that someone was trying to cause trouble for the bakery because of an old business dispute.
Tessa narrowed her eyes.
“I’m seventeen, not seven.”
“Sixteen.”
“Seventeen in three months.”
“Then I’ll tell you three months from now.”
“Aunt Rose.”
“No.”
Tessa crossed her arms exactly the way Rose did.
Genetics was deeply irritating.
Luca waited outside the kitchen.
Rose finally joined him.
“Fix the scholarship.”
“No.”
She stared.
“No?”
“If I make one call, Serena can claim Benedetti influence manipulated admissions.”
Rose hated that he was right.
“What do we do?”
“You document the threat.”
“We?”
He caught the word.
Rose did too.
Neither mentioned it.
They contacted the scholarship foundation.
Rose submitted the anonymous email.
Financial records proved her bakery was independent.
No Benedetti money.
No criminal ownership.
The investigation remained open, but Tessa’s application stayed active.
Then Dana found something better.
Security camera footage.
Three nights earlier, a woman had slid an envelope through the bakery mail slot.
Not Serena.
A man.
Rose recognized him from photographs.
Victor Vance.
Serena’s father.
Luca stared at the screen.
“So Serena may not know.”
Rose exhaled.
“I accused her.”
“She threatened you.”
“Yes.”
“Both can be true.”
Another inconveniently mature answer.
Luca’s people traced the email to an office belonging to Vance Legal.
Victor was escalating.
Why?
Because Carlo’s memorial dinner was not simply a dinner.
Carmela finally explained.
Carlo’s will required disputed claims to be formally presented within sixty days of death.
The memorial was day fifty-nine.
Rose had until midnight the following day.
“That is why you ordered pies from me?”
Carmela lifted one shoulder.
“I needed you in the room.”
Rose stared.
“You engineered this.”
“Only the catering.”
“You sent Luca into my bakery.”
“Yes.”
Luca looked at his grandmother.
“You told me the original pastry chef canceled.”
“He did.”
“When?”
“After I paid him.”
Rose almost admired her.
Almost.
“You manipulated us.”
Carmela nodded.
“Yes.”
At least she was efficient about apologies.
“I wanted Stanley’s daughter where Victor could see her.”
“Why?”
“To make him nervous.”
“You used my business as bait.”
“Yes.”
Rose stood.
“I’m done.”
Carmela’s expression softened.
“Rose—”
“No.”
She removed her catering contract from her bag.
“I will deliver what I promised because my employees need the invoice.”
Then she looked at Luca.
“But after that, your family can solve its own disaster.”
He nodded.
No pressure.
Again.
That irritated her because it made staying angry harder.
The memorial dinner arrived.
Aurelia Ballroom.
Eighty guests.
Rose’s dessert table glittered beneath chandeliers.
Serena entered in silver.
She saw Rose.
Then Carmela.
Then the pies.
Her expression changed.
During dessert, Serena approached.
Quiet at first.
“You still have time to walk away.”
Rose continued slicing chocolate bourbon pie.
“No.”
“You really think Luca cares about you?”
“Not relevant.”
Serena laughed.
Then her eyes dropped over Rose’s body.
“Of course it is.”
Rose’s hand stopped.
Serena smiled.
“Men like Luca flirt with women like you when they want something.”
There it was.
The first cut.
Then another.
“You really think he’d choose a fat little pie maker over women who belong in his world?”
Across the table, Carmela looked up.
Rose inhaled.
“Do not say that again.”
Serena smiled.
“Fat?”
Rose put down the knife.
“Say fat one more time.”
Serena leaned closer.
“Fat.”
May you like
Carmela picked up the banana cream pie.
And shoved it into Rose’s hands.
