Chapter 2 - Shadows Beneath The White Silk
The water continued to pool around the kneeling maid’s knees, mixing with a faint streak of blood that had dripped from her bruised forearm. Julian stepped past Lily, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the cold floor. He knelt down beside the maid, ignoring the pristine hem of his black suit trousers touching the damp marble.
“Look at me,” Julian said softly, his voice losing its initial edge as he addressed the terrified worker. “What is your name?”
“Clara, sir,” the young woman whispered, her teeth chattering beneath her yellow cleaning gloves. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, afraid to look up at Bianca, who still stood like a marble statue in the center of the hall. “I didn’t mean to listen. I was bringing fresh linens to the guest suite when I heard her talking on the phone.”
“And what did she say, Clara?” Julian urged gently, resting a steady hand on her uninjured shoulder.
Before Clara could form the words, Bianca’s heels clicked against the floor as she glided closer. Her cold blue eyes bore down on the maid with a look of pure venom.
“Be very careful what you say next, Clara,” Bianca warned, her voice carrying a lethal sweetness that sent a chill through the hallway. “Remember who pays your wages, and remember what happened to your brother’s debts last month.”
Julian stood up abruptly, placing himself squarely between Bianca and the kneeling maid. He towered over Bianca, his sharp facial features locked in a mask of suppressed fury.
“Threatening witnesses in my own home, Bianca?” Julian asked, his voice dropping an octave. “That is a new low, even for you.”
“I am simply protecting our future,” Bianca retorted, crossing her arms over her white silk dress. “That girl is a thief. She was going through your private study. I caught her red-handed.”
“The only thief in this house is standing right here wearing white,” a weak voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase.
Everyone turned their heads upward. Standing at the landing was Clara’s mother, an older woman holding a crumpled yellow envelope. Her face was pale, and she clutched a medical report in her trembling hands.
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“Julian,” the older woman called out, her voice shaking with exhaustion and grief. “Don’t listen to her lies. Bianca didn’t just pour water on Clara. She forced her to swallow the documents Clara found in the safe.”
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