Chapter 5 - THE MAID WHO NOTICED TOO MUCH
For three seconds I forgot how breathing worked.
Adrian remained between me and the door.
Not touching me.
Not threatening me.
That somehow made it worse.
I held up the photograph.
“Is this yours?”
“No.”
“You knew it existed.”
“I knew something would happen eventually.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
He stepped farther into the room.
I immediately stepped sideways.
He noticed.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Claire.”
“People should really stop saying things like that while blocking exits.”
He moved away from the door.
I walked past him.
He didn’t stop me.
“Luca can’t protect everyone forever,” Adrian said.
I turned.
“Protect everyone from what?”
His expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Ask him about Marco.”
Then he left.
I took the photograph directly to Luca.
He examined both sides.
“Who gave you this?”
“Guest room drawer.”
“Who knew you were going there?”
“Adrian.”
His face hardened.
“He was there.”
Luca stood instantly.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“What did he say?”
“That he didn’t put it there.”
“And you believe him?”
“I don’t know.”
“What else?”
I hesitated.
“Claire.”
“He told me to ask you about Marco.”
The silence after that name was different from every silence I had experienced in the mansion.
Luca looked away.
His hands flattened against the desk.
“Go home.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.”
“Who is Marco?”
“Go home.”
“Luca—”
His gaze snapped back.
It was the first time I had called him Luca.
Neither of us missed it.
“You are involved in something you don’t understand.”
“Then explain it.”
“No.”
“Someone followed me.”
“I know.”
“Someone photographed my apartment.”
“I know.”
“Then I think I deserve something besides ‘go home.’”
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Finally, he walked to a cabinet.
Opened it.
Removed a framed photograph.
Two teenage boys stood beside a lake.
One was obviously Luca.
Younger.
Smiling.
Beside him was another dark-haired boy.
“This is Marco.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He died.”
My anger disappeared.
“I’m sorry.”
“It was sixteen years ago.”
Time didn’t matter.
I could see that immediately.
“Was it because of your family?”
“Yes.”
The answer came quietly.
“My father built businesses with men who believed loyalty came from fear. When Marco discovered money disappearing, he told my father.”
My stomach tightened.
“Missing money.”
Luca nodded.
“My father didn’t believe him.”
“What happened?”
“He trusted the wrong person.”
Luca looked at the photograph.
“Marco paid for it.”
He didn’t give details.
He didn’t need to.
I understood enough.
“The west wing was his?”
“Part of it.”
“So these new missing payments…”
“Look familiar.”
The room suddenly made terrible sense.
Someone was repeating something from Luca’s past.
Not just stealing.
Reminding him.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about Adrian?”
“He knew Marco.”
“How?”
“His father worked for mine.”
“And Matteo?”
“My father’s younger brother.”
“Daniel?”
“Our family attorney for twenty-three years.”
Everyone connected.
Everyone old enough to remember Marco.
Luca put the photograph away.
“You’re leaving the mansion until this is finished.”
“No.”
His head turned.
“That wasn’t a request.”
“Then I’m refusing an order.”
“I pay you.”
“You pay me to clean.”
“Claire.”
“You don’t get to decide where I’m safe.”
“Somebody is watching your home.”
“So assign Frank.”
“I already did.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“Security has been outside your building since Tuesday.”
I stared.
“You had people watching my apartment without telling me?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
“It’s security.”
“It’s stalking with a payroll department.”
His jaw tightened.
“Call it whatever makes you feel better.”
“You are unbelievable.”
“And you are leaving.”
“No.”
We stood across from each other.
Two stubborn people who had apparently gone through life without receiving adequate supervision.
Finally Luca said, “Why?”
“Because whoever is doing this wants me gone.”
“That’s exactly why you should go.”
“No. That’s exactly why I shouldn’t.”
He stared.
“If I leave, they learn intimidation works.”
“This isn’t one of your insurance companies, Claire.”
“I know.”
“These people don’t send strongly worded letters.”
“And you think I don’t understand danger because I clean your floors?”
“I think you don’t understand my world.”
“Then stop dragging me into it while refusing to explain it.”
That landed.
Luca looked toward the windows.
I lowered my voice.
“You hired me because I wasn’t afraid.”
“No.”
He turned.
“I hired you because you were honest.”
Something shifted between us.
I looked down.
That felt more dangerous than anger.
The following day, security doubled.
Frank started driving me home.
Margaret pretended nothing had changed.
Adrian avoided me.
And Matteo Moretti arrived.
He was sixty-three.
Silver-haired.
Elegant.
Charming.
He entered the mansion as if he owned it.
Maybe once he had expected to.
“Claire Bennett,” he said, taking my hand. “The famous new maid.”
“Famous?”
“My nephew mentions you.”
I looked toward Luca.
He was across the room.
His face became stone.
“How unfortunate,” I said.
Matteo laughed.
“I like her.”
“I’m thrilled,” Luca said.
They disappeared into the office.
Twenty minutes later their voices rose.
I couldn’t hear everything.
Only fragments.
“…selling assets…”
“…family legacy…”
“…Marco believed the same…”
Then Luca’s voice:
“Don’t use his name.”
The doors opened.
Matteo walked out smiling.
He passed me.
Then quietly said:
“You remind me of someone.”
“Who?”
“My nephew’s brother.”
He kept walking.
That evening, I opened my locker.
Another envelope waited inside.
No photograph.
No threat.
Only an old newspaper clipping.
Sixteen years earlier.
MORETTI HEIR DIES IN LATE-NIGHT ACCIDENT.
Marco Moretti.
Twenty-one years old.
Below the clipping was another handwritten message.
HE FOUND THE MONEY TOO.
And underneath:
HE TRUSTED LUCA.
I stared at those words until my hands began to shake.
Because whoever sent the note wasn’t merely threatening me anymore.
May you like
They were accusing Luca.
And for the first time since walking through those iron gates, I wondered whether the most dangerous secret in the mansion belonged to the man who hired me.
