Chapter 7 - Whispers in the Corridor
That evening at 8:00 p.m., Raphael walked down the second-floor hallway of the main house.
The estate was unusually quiet. The extra security personnel had taken up positions outside the perimeter fence, leaving the interior bathed in warm, muted lighting.
He stopped outside Room 204—the room Mrs. Roz had assigned to Josephine.
The door was slightly ajar.
Raphael peered inside. Josephine was sitting by the window, wrapped in a oversized knit cardigan, watching the rain strike the glass panels. A tray containing untouched soup and tea sat on the small table beside her.
He knocked softly on the doorframe.
She turned quickly, standing up with an instinctual deference that irritated him more than it should have.
“Mr. Orsini,” she said, smoothing her skirt.
“Why aren't you eating?” he asked, stepping into the room.
“I... I'm not very hungry,” she admitted, her hands clasping together in front of her. “I keep thinking about Wyatt. The nurse said I could call at nine for an update.”
“He is fine,” Raphael said, his tone carrying a firm, unshakeable certainty. “My personal physician is at the hospital right now reviewing his charts. If anything changed, I would be the first to know.”
Josephine looked at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “Why are you doing all this for me? I’m just a maid.”
Raphael walked toward the window, looking out into the dark garden where raindrops gleamed like falling silver.
“When Dileia died,” he spoke softly, his back to her, “I spent five years burning down everything that made me feel human. I believed that caring for anyone was a tactical error. A weakness that my enemies could exploit.”
He turned around to face her.
“Last night, when you knocked on my door at 12:43, I saw the same terror in your eyes that my sister must have had in hers when she made that last phone call. I couldn't save her, Josephine. But I can save him.”
Josephine’s eyes filled with tears. She stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until she was standing just a foot away.
“You’re not the cold man everyone says you are,” she whispered.
“I am,” Raphael replied, his voice dropping into a raspy murmur. “To everyone else, I am a monster. Remember that.”
“Not to me,” she said softly.
Before Raphael could respond, his phone vibrated violently in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Tomas’s caller ID flashing red.
May you like
He answered instantly. “Report.”
“Boss, we have a problem,” Tomas’s voice crackled over the speaker, heavy with automatic gunfire in the background. “Moretti didn't wait for Pier 42. He sent a hit squad directly to the North Gate of the estate. They’re breaching the outer grounds right now!”
