Chapter 3 - Messages in the Dark
The maid's quarters were located on the third floor of the east wing—a small, austere room with a single narrow window overlooking the rainy gardens behind the mansion.
Elena locked the door behind her, sliding the brass bolt into place. She rushed to her narrow bed, dropped to her knees, and pulled the loose floorboard back near the nightstand.
She retrieved her hidden burner phone. Her fingers were shaking so badly she almost dropped it on the rug.
She quickly dialed the pre-saved number.
Ring... ring... ring...
"Pick up, Mary, please pick up," Elena prayed under her breath, pressing the plastic phone hard against her ear.
"Hello?" a raspy, elderly female voice answered on the fourth ring.
Elena let out a ragged breath of relief. "Mary! It's me. Is she okay? Is Lily with you?"
"Elena," Mary whispered, her tone laced with deep anxiety. "Thank God. Yes, the baby is sleeping. She ate her soup and went to bed an hour ago. But Elena... something happened this morning."
Elena’s blood ran cold. "What happened? Did someone come to the apartment?"
"A dark sedan," Mary said softly, the sound of rain pattering against glass in the background. "It was parked across the street from six until eight. Two men in black coats were sitting inside, watching the windows. They didn't come up, but Elena... they know this neighborhood. We can't stay here much longer. The rent is due, and I'm running out of the formula and medicine Lily needs."
Tears pricked the corners of Elena’s eyes. She pressed her hand over her mouth to muffle a dry sob.
She had twenty-five hundred dollars hidden in an envelope under her floorboard—money she had saved from her salary at the Cross estate. She had planned to take it to Mary tonight. But now, with Damian’s guards posted at every exit and Damian himself watching her every move, she was trapped.
"I'm going to get you the money, Mary," Elena promised, her voice fiercely resolute. "I swear it. Hold on for just one more day. Keep the curtains drawn. Don't open the door for anyone. Not even if they say they are the police."
"Be careful, child," Mary warned gently. "The Moretti family... they are ruthless. If they find out who you are..."
"They won't," Elena said firmly. "I’ll call you tomorrow at noon."
She ended the call and dropped her hands into her lap, staring at the floorboards.
SHE KNOWS.
The text message hadn't come from Mary. It had come from an untraceable number. Sophia Moretti was playing with her, taunting her like a cat with a cornered mouse. Sophia wanted Elena to panic, to make a mistake, to run straight to the hidden ledger.
Elena stood up, taking deep, steadying breaths. She couldn't panic. Panic got people killed.
She unlocked her room door and stepped back out into the dimly lit hallway. She had work to do. If she showed any sign of distress, Damian’s eagle eyes would catch it immediately.
As she turned the corner toward the main staircase, the heavy front doors on the ground floor slammed open, followed by the sound of loud, booming laughter and heavy footsteps echoing through the foyer.
Marcus Cross had arrived.
Elena paused near the top of the landing, staying hidden behind a marble pillar to observe.
Marcus was slightly shorter than Damian, but broader, with buzzed dark hair and a sharp, cruel face scarred across his left eyebrow. Behind him stepped two large enforcers, carrying heavy leather duffel bags that reeked faintly of iron and copper—the distinct smell of fresh blood and wet metal.
Damian stepped out of his study to meet his brother.
"You're late," Damian said coldly, his hands buried in his trouser pockets.
"Got held up at the docks," Marcus replied, tossing his wet coat onto the back of a velvet sofa. He wiped a smudge of crimson from his knuckle with a white handkerchief. "The Moretti boys were trying to intercept our shipping container from Palermo. We had to teach them a lesson about territorial boundaries."
Damian’s eyes narrowed. "Did you clear the bodies?"
"Buried deep in the marshlands," Marcus sneered, grinning wickedly. "Though Sophia Moretti sent a message before we shut her captain's mouth. She said she's hunting for a ghost in the city. A DA's daughter who stole something valuable."
Elena felt her heart slam violently against her ribs. She pressed her back hard against the marble pillar, her hands clutching her aproned skirt.
Damian remained perfectly unbothered, his posture relaxed. "Sophia is always hunting ghosts. Let her waste her resources. What about the dock managers?"
"They're paid off," Marcus said, stepping closer to his brother. Then Marcus stopped, sniffing the air, his eyes darting up toward the grand staircase. His gaze landed directly on the shadow where Elena was standing.
"Speaking of ghosts," Marcus said, his grin fading into a sharp, predatory scowl. "Your pretty little maid is lurking on the landing, Damian."
Damian didn't turn around. "She's doing her job."
Marcus took three slow steps toward the stairs, looking up at Elena with dark, calculating eyes. "Is she? Because I ran a routine background check on her last week, brother. Just like I do on all your domestic staff."
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Elena’s throat went bone dry. She couldn't breathe.
Marcus pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his leather jacket pocket. "Her references from the agency in Detroit? Total fakes. The address she gave for her previous employer is an empty lot. Care to explain that, maid?"
