Chapter 3 - THE DEBT THAT NEVER ENDED|
Norah didn't sleep.
She sat at her little desk until dawn, staring at the paper that claimed her father's debt had been paid.
For two years, she had believed she was working toward freedom. Every week, she accepted her wages and watched a portion disappear into deductions she could not verify.
She had stopped buying coffee outside the estate. She repaired her shoes instead of replacing them. She sent birthday cards to her younger cousin rather than visiting because travel cost money.
She had sacrificed nearly everything for a debt that might not even exist.
At seven, she went to the estate's accounting office.
Mr. Bell, the household administrator, was a thin man with silver hair and a permanent expression of irritation.
“I need to see the records concerning my father's debt.”
He barely looked up.
“Those records are confidential.”
“My wages are being deducted.”
“Then your employer has the relevant information.”
“I would like to see the balance.”
Mr. Bell closed his ledger.
“Miss Bennett, you are a maid. You're not employed to audit the Costa organization's financial affairs.”
Norah's fingers curled around the folded paper in her pocket.
“Who paid the debt?”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But she saw it.
“Go back to your duties.”
“Mr. Bell—”
“Now.”
She left the office shaking.
The note had given her hope, and hope had made her careless.
She should have known better.
When she entered Roman's study, he was speaking with two men in dark suits. They fell silent when she approached.
“Not now,” Roman said.
“I need to ask you something.”
Both men turned toward her.
Roman's gaze sharpened.
“Leave us.”
The men departed.
Norah stood near the door, trying to steady her breathing.
“Is my father's debt paid?”
Roman went completely still.
“What did you say?”
“I asked whether my father's debt has been paid.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
It was the first time she had spoken to him without calling him sir.
Roman noticed.
He also noticed the fear in her face, and something inside him tightened.
“Your father's debt was settled months ago.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Months ago?”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“Yes.”
Norah stared at him.
“Why am I still paying it?”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“That arrangement was made before I knew the full details.”
“You knew the debt was paid.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me keep working?”
He didn't answer quickly enough.
Norah gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
“You could have told me.”
“I intended to.”
“When?”
Roman looked away.
The silence was more damaging than any answer.
Norah reached into her pocket and placed the note on his desk.
“Someone else told me.”
He picked it up.
His expression hardened as he read the words.
“Who gave you this?”
“I don't know.”
“Did anyone approach you?”
“No.”
“Did they threaten you?”
“No.”
Roman moved toward the door and called for his security chief.
Norah stepped back.
“Please don't.”
He stopped.
“Don't what?”
“Turn this into another thing I have no control over.”
The words struck harder than she intended.
Roman studied her.
For the first time, he seemed to understand that protecting someone without giving them a choice could feel remarkably similar to controlling them.
“I'll investigate the payments,” he said.
Norah shook her head.
“I don't want your money.”
“That's not what I offered.”
“You don't have to offer anything. Just tell me the truth.”
Roman's face was unreadable.
“The original debt was paid by a member of my organization. The deductions were supposed to stop.”
“But they didn't.”
“No.”
“Who kept taking the money?”
“I don't know yet.”
She looked at him for a long moment.
“You always know everything, don't you?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps you should start asking questions before deciding what other people deserve.”
She left him standing in the study.
Roman had been insulted by generals, politicians, and men who thought themselves powerful enough to challenge his authority.
None of them had made him feel as ashamed as a twenty-four-year-old maid who had finally stopped being afraid of him.
That afternoon, he summoned his security chief, Marcus Reed.
“I want every payment connected to Norah Bennett's father traced.”
Marcus nodded.
“Understood.”
“And find the person who left that note.”
Marcus hesitated.
“There's something else, sir.”
Roman looked up.
“Speak.”
“The mechanic, Finn Walker. He has been asking questions about the same debt.”
Roman's expression darkened.
“Why?”
Marcus placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Finn standing outside a small cemetery beside an older man.
The man was Norah's father.
On the back, someone had written a date.
The date Norah's father died.
May you like
Beneath it were four words.
He didn't die accidentally.
