Chapter 3 - The Housekeeper’s SecretThe gray light of dawn was filtering through the frost-covered windows of the estate when I finally returned to my office on the ground floor. I hadn't slept a wink after Lily left, the adrenaline keeping my senses hyper-tuned, but for the first time in three years, my mind wasn't foggy. It was cold, clear, and lethal.
At 7:00 AM sharp, a soft knock sounded on my office door.
“Enter.”
The door clicked open, and Clara Carter stepped inside.
She wore the simple, neat navy-blue uniform of our estate staff, her blonde hair pulled back into a practical bun, her expression a mix of professional deference and deep, maternal anxiety. Clara had been working for us for six months, hired on Mrs. Ricci’s recommendation after her husband passed away, moving into the guest cottage with little Lily to start over.
“Mr. Moretti,” Clara began immediately, her hands clasped nervously in front of her apron. “I am so, so sorry. Mrs. Ricci told me what happened last night. Lily sneaked out—I swear I checked her room before I went to sleep, but she’s a restless sleeper, and—if this violates estate rules, if you want to dismiss us—please, just don't throw us out immediately, give me a few hours to find a place—”
“Clara,” I interrupted, my voice flat and controlled.
She stopped, biting her lower lip, bracing herself for the blow.
“Your daughter is not in trouble,” I said, leaning back in my leather executive chair and lacing my fingers together over the desk.
Clara blinked, dumbfounded. “She... she isn't?”
“No. In fact, she accomplished something tonight that five teams of medical specialists couldn't do in three years. She got me to sleep.”
Clara stared at me as if I had spoken in ancient Greek. “Sleep, sir? But you look like you haven't closed your eyes.”
“I didn't say I slept all night. I said she started it.” I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the mahogany desk, fixing my dark eyes on hers. “Clara, I need you to answer some questions for me. And I need you to be entirely honest. Your job, your daughter’s safety, and everything you know about this estate depend on your answer.”
The color drained from Clara’s face. She swallowed hard, nodding slowly. “Ask me anything, Mr. Moretti.”
“Has Lily ever talked about anyone else visiting the guest cottage late at night? Anyone other than you?”
Clara furrowed her brow, searching her memory. “No, sir. We keep the doors locked. Why? Did someone approach the cottage?”
“Not the cottage. My bedroom.” I watched her expression carefully. “Lily wandered up to my suite last night. She told me something very specific. She described someone walking into my room when I’m nearly asleep—someone who wears shoes that don't make a sound, standing by my water glass.”
Clara gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Good Lord. An intruder? Should I call the security chief—?”
“Security is compromised, Clara,” I cut her off, my voice dropping into a lethal whisper. “The person walking into my room isn't an outside burglar. The security logs show my cousin Julian accessing the secure pantry late at night. Julian, or someone he’s giving access to.”
Clara’s eyes widened with genuine horror. She wasn't acting; the shock of realizing what operating inside the Moretti household meant was hitting her all at once. “Mr. Moretti... you think Mr. Julian is... is hurting you?”
“I don't think. I know,” I said, standing up from my desk and walking around to stand just a few feet away from her. “For three years, I’ve been drugged, kept awake, and systematically undermined. They want me broken. But right now, they think I’m still helpless.”
“What... what do you want me to do?” she whispered, trembling slightly.
“I need you and Lily to play a part,” I said, my gaze unyielding. “From now on, you will act completely normal. You will report nothing, suspect nothing. But I am moving you and Lily out of the guest cottage and into the main east-wing guest suite adjacent to my master bedroom.”
Clara recoiled slightly, her protective instincts flaring up. “Move into the main house? Sir, Mr. Julian and Mr. Dante live in the main house. Won't that put us in danger?”
“It will put you under my direct protection,” I corrected coldly. “And it will give me an innocent reason to have eyes and ears where I need them. Julian thinks he’s hunting me. It’s time I let him think he’s winning.”
Clara looked at me for a long, agonizing moment, weighing the risks of tying her fate to a syndicate war. Then, slowly, she straightened her shoulders, the fierce protective love for her daughter overriding her fear.
May you like
“Okay,” Clara said quietly. “We’ll do it. But Mr. Moretti... please, keep my little girl safe.”
“Nobody touches Lily,” I promised, the Moretti family’s dark, ruthless pledge sealing the bargain. “Not while I’m breathing.”
Related Stories
