Chapter 3 - The Coldest Room
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Then came Serena's voice—low, undeniably beautiful, and dripping with an absolute, venomous cruelty that Alessandro had never heard before.
"Then remember your place. You are a maid. You clean secrets in this house. You don't carry them."
"I did not ask for your secret," Chiara said, her voice hitching with a suppressed sob. "I only heard your truth."
A heavy pause fell over the room. Then, the sharp, rhythmic clicking of expensive heels striking against the marble floor echoed into the hallway.
"You heard a phone call you should never have heard," Serena whispered, the malice evident in every single syllable. "You heard my husband's name. You heard what happens to this empire after the wedding. Now you will forget it—or your sweet little daughter will pay the ultimate price for your memory."
Standing in the shadows of the corridor, Alessandro's face changed entirely. There was no loud shout, no sudden, violent movement, no visible explosion of the rage brewing inside him. The change was much smaller than that, and infinitely more dangerous. The warmth in his eyes completely emptied out. His heart, which had been beating with genuine concern for a crying child just moments ago, went absolutely, terrifyingly still. The woman he was supposed to marry was a traitor. And she was threatening a child under his roof.
He pushed the heavy mahogany door open with one hand and stepped fully into the opulent room.
"Then maybe you should have checked the door before threatening a mother in my house," Alessandro stated, his voice a lethal, vibrating baritone.
Serena froze completely. Chiara turned slowly from the floor, and Alessandro finally saw the state she was in. The maid was soaked from her shoulders to her waist, her dark hair plastered wetly to her pale cheek. Her gray uniform was clinging to her shivering skin, her eyes finding Alessandro first with raw terror, then utter disbelief, and finally, the smallest, most desperate flash of hope.
Serena stood over the maid, holding a heavy, empty glass water jug. The chandelier light caught the crystal so that for half a second, the beautiful heiress looked almost holy. But the illusion was shattered forever.
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"Lorenzo," Serena whispered in pure shock, her eyes wide. She blinked rapidly, her mind scrambling to fix the catastrophic slip of the tongue. "Wait—no. Alessandro," she corrected herself, forcing a frantic, breathless smile. "Thank God you're here. This maid just attacked me."
Alessandro said absolutely nothing. He just stared at the dead woman walking.
