Chapter 2 - The Shadows in the CorridorBy 6:30 PM that evening, the second floor of the Moretti estate was quiet, illuminated only by warm wall sconces casting long, amber shadows down the velvet-carpeted corridor.
I sat on the edge of the plush sofa inside West Suite 4, holding three-year-old Mia in my lap.
Mia wore her clean yellow cotton pyjamas with small daisy prints. Her soft brown curls fell over her shoulders, and her big hazel eyes were wide with innocent wonder as she hugged her gray stuffed rabbit, Barnaby.
"Mommy," Mia piped up in her sweet, high voice, swinging her small legs. "Are we going to see the sleepy mister again?"
I gently stroked her hair, kissing her forehead, my heart swelling with a mixture of overwhelming maternal love and deep, terrifying anxiety.
"Yes, sweetie," I murmured softly. "We're going to visit him. But remember what Mommy told you—we don't touch his wires, and we don't shout."
"I know!" Mia nodded solemnly, hugging Barnaby tighter. "I'm going to sing Sunshine so he doesn't feel lonely in the dark."
Knock. Knock.
The heavy mahogany door clicked open.
Standing in the doorway was Julian Moretti—Lorenzo’s thirty-four-year-old younger brother.
Julian was impeccably dressed in a dark bespoke suit, his dark hair slicked back, his sharp face holding a handsome, arrogant polish. But unlike his mother's solemn, dignified aura, Julian’s dark eyes carried a cold, calculating edge that made my stomach tighten instantly.
Behind him stood two broad-shouldered guards in dark suits.
"So," Julian drawled, his baritone smooth and dry as he stepped into our suite, looking around at the plush furnishings, "this is the maid and her little miracle worker."
I stood up, holding Mia against my hip, my posture automatically defensive. "Mr. Moretti."
Julian walked around the room, picking up a silver photo frame from the mantelpiece before setting it down with a sharp clack.
"My mother is a desperate woman, Clara," Julian spoke, his tone dripping with subtle, condescending amusement. "She's willing to believe in fairy tales because she can't accept that Lorenzo's brain was crushed under two tons of metal seven weeks ago."
"The monitor records proved his heart rate changed, sir," I replied, keeping my voice steady.
Julian laughed—a low, humorless sound that didn't reach his eyes. "A involuntary muscular spasm. An autonomic nervous system reflex triggered by a sudden high-pitched sound. The doctors call it a coincidence."
He stepped closer, leaning down slightly so his face was level with mine.
"Lorenzo’s accident left him with a seventy-percent probability of permanent brain death," Julian whispered, his eyes narrowing into razor-sharp slits. "As Vice Chairman of Moretti Global, I am finalizing the transfer of executive voting authority this Friday. The last thing this family needs is a maid and a toddler giving my mother false hope."
Mia shrank against my shoulder, hiding her face in my neck.
"We are only doing what Mrs. Moretti asked us to do, Mr. Moretti," I stated deadpan, looking straight into his eyes without flinching.
Julian stared at me for five long seconds. Then a cold, unreadable smile touched his lips.
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"Of course," Julian murmured softly. "Just make sure your little girl doesn't pull out an IV line, Clara. It would be... tragic... if something happened to slow down his recovery."
He turned on his heel, his dark coat sweeping behind him as he exited the suite with his guards, leaving the heavy oak door swinging quietly in his wake.
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