THINGS PACKED

Lisa, Alessia's best and only friend, stared at her tablet screen, scrolling aimlessly trying to shop for the latest toy, latest designer release and whatever rare and expensive item she found.

She has filed her cart so many times, it would take three trucks to deliver what she had ordered.

Lisa Caleb is in her kid twenties, she is a blonde but she added brown highlights. She wasn't born with a silver spoon, she forged hers.

She climbed the social ladder and became one of the best product managers in the state. She loved her job, ever hour she earned over three thousand dollars. That's how good and how much she earned.

Being best friends with Alessia had helped her so much, she barely spent her money.

Alessia and Lisa barely met in the years that Alessia was married, Roman never met Lisa either; he was either busy or not interested.

Roman didn't want anything to do with Alessia's friend; he knew her mother and that was enough, anything else was a bother, it was a disease.

Just then Lisa stood up, she had on a two piece gym wear. She planned on going to the gym when she received an email from Gucci, stating their new release.

She saw the headlines.

ALESSIA NOW WITH ZANE WOLFE, AFTER BEING REJECTED AND DIVORCED BY ROMAN VELEZ.

“What?” Lisa yelled and read all the published articles, she watched the interviews, she saw the videos from the night Alessia was divorced, to the statement that the baby. And to the court order.

She found an account on reddit, that has links to every single detail, in the right order. Lisa gasped.

She had taken a three day social media cleanse, all she did was watch old movies on N*****x, she was off the grid. She had ordered all the meals she would eat and enjoyed her three days away.

But to find out that her best friend didn't even try to tell her what had happened instead she had to find out - she balled her hands into a fist and yelled.

She immediately went into her bathroom and took a long shower, she grumbled to herself while the water ran down her spine.

She paused and pointed to the the wall, questioning why she wasn't there for her friend in the place.

“Al, you should have told me. I need to see her. I need to.” Lisa immediately packed a go bag, she was ready to stay with her friend for the whole pregnancy.

“This is crazy, she is now married to her ex husband's rival and enemy. Roman will make a mess!” Lisa knew what Roman was capable of.

Roman was a two faced manipulator but he loved Alessia, she remembered the times when Ezra- Roman's former assistant would send them guards to watch over them, making sure they were good even when they had left the country.

Lisa knew Roman wouldn't take this and just watch, something was brewing. She had to be with her friend.

She immediately called Alessia, the first time it rang, the second time it went to voicemail and the third time- the line was dead.

“Fuck, don’t be stupid, Al.” She muttered.

“Zane Wolfe is not your savior.” She booked a car and immediately for the estate with a bottle of fresh juice and a camera bag. She tracked the phone before it went offline.

“If she won’t tell me the truth, I’ll see it myself.” Lisa said with so much determination.

Alessia was in the middle of unpacking, her eyes trailing the soft folds of her dresses as her new maids moved around the room. There was something soothing about the quiet rhythm—tissue paper crinkling, drawers sliding open, soft brushes clearing invisible dust from glossy shelves.

Zane has left for work.

“I am Dora, and she is Gaby,” one of them said. Her voice was light, confident. They didn’t pause their work as they introduced themselves, already folding, dusting, arranging. They asked her where she wanted each item, careful not to assume, but efficient all the same.

They moved like people who knew the room already. Alessia didn’t.

She turned slowly, taking it in.

The chandelier above was large, delicate, and filled with soft golden lights. Tiny crystal butterflies hung from the branches, rotating gently in the air-conditioned breeze. She stared at it for a moment, quiet, then dropped her gaze to the rest of the space.

The bed was Queen-sized, draped in thick ivory covers, with four wooden poles rising like guards at each corner. There was a side table next to it, simple and glass-topped, holding only a sleek digital alarm clock.

Across from the bed stood a wide desk. On it, a brand-new MacBook. Beside it, a phone she hadn’t asked for, still in the box. The charger was already plugged in. A pair of noise-cancelling headphones rested beside a leather-bound notebook, unopened. Everything looked expensive. Carefully chosen. Not just thrown together.

There was a walk-in wardrobe to the right. She stepped to the doorway and looked inside. Her clothes had already been arranged by colour, texture, and season. Purses lined the top shelf. Shoes were arranged like museum pieces on polished racks.

She took her time.

“This is good,” Alessia said quietly, nodding to herself.

Dora looked up from where she was straightening the hem of a folded blouse. Her tone was respectful, but there was a quiet smile behind it.

“Master Zane wanted the very best for you.”

Alessia didn’t answer right away.

She ran her fingers over the edge of the desk, then touched the corner of the MacBook. Everything felt too new. Too untouched. Like the life of someone else waiting for her to fit into it.

“I see,” she said softly.

A smile crept on her face. She left the maids to do their thing when she decided to check out the kitchen. She needed to know how good the chef was. That mattered more to her than fresh sheets or polished staircases.

The kitchen was quiet when she stepped in. Warm. Clean. It smelled like something was baking. Four staff stood side by side beside the island, dressed neatly in white. Two women. Two men. All of them are waiting.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am. We are the kitchen staff. We welcome you," they said in unison.

She didn’t reply. Just looked at them one by one, watching their faces. Watching how they stood. How they held themselves.

The oldest among them stepped forward. Maybe in his forties. He looked serious but calm. His uniform was spotless.

"My name is Elliot, Ma'am," he said. "I’m the head of this kitchen. Everything runs through me. Tonight we’ve prepared rosemary lamb with creamy potatoes for your main course. And lemon meringue tart for dessert."

He stepped back.

The woman beside him was taller. Sharper eyes. She kept her hands clasped neatly.

"I’m Sofia. Assistant chef. I handle seasoning, sauces, and finishing touches. I made seared sea bass with buttered asparagus. And for dessert, white chocolate crème brûlée."

She gave a small nod.

Then came the younger man. Confidence. He didn’t smile much, but there was something proud in the way he stood.

"James, Ma," he said. "I handle grilling and roasts. I made honey-glazed duck with spiced rice. And triple chocolate cake with whipped cream."

Finally, the smallest of them stepped forward. She looked the youngest. Nervous, but her voice was steady.

"I’m Lucy. I handle soups, tea, and cleaning. I also made herbed chicken stew with dumplings. And apple crumble with vanilla cream."

She didn’t nod. Didn’t smile. She simply turned and walked to the nearest counter, where the plates had been set aside for tasting. Covered with polished steel domes. She lifted one.

The crème brûlée.

She picked up a spoon and dipped into it. Silence.

She moved to the next. The lamb. Then the duck. The sea bass. The chicken stew. The rice. The desserts.

No one moved. No one breathed too loudly.

She took her time. Not too slow, not too fast. Just enough to make them wait.

Then she turned back to them.

"Do you always make this much food when no one asks for it?"

Elliot answered without hesitation. "Only when a new madam enters the house. We prepare every possibility."

Her eyes swept over the room. The neatness. The quiet pride. The balance of seasoning still lingering on her tongue.

"From now on," she said, "cook only what I request. But if this was meant to impress me… it worked.”

When Lisa burst through the front door, dramatic as ever, her voice bounced off the high ceilings.

“Oh, this place smells like money... and secrets.”

Alessia froze at the top of the stairs.

“Lisa…”

But Lisa was already closing the distance, arms outstretched. She hugged Alessia tight, pressing her cheek against her friend’s shoulder.

“I’m not mad,” she whispered. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

Alessia swallowed, nodding into her hair. “I’m still figuring that out.”

That night, Lisa joined them for dinner.

She didn’t come to play nice. She sat across from Zane, eyes sharp, voice light but loaded.

“What are your intentions with her?”

“Are you going to disappear on her too?”

“Do you know how to change diapers?”

Zane answered calmly. One after the other. No sarcasm. No irritation.

“To stay.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

He even laughed once when she raised a brow.

Alessia didn’t say much. She just watched him and how he handled Lisa’s fire without dousing it, how he let her protect without interfering. It did something to her. Softened something. Anchored something.

Meanwhile

Roman sat in his study, jaw clenched, eyes on his phone.

A low-resolution clip played on loop, via Lisa’s I*******m story. A slow zoom on the gates of Zane’s estate, captioned: Queen is hiding well.

He paused it. Rewound it. Stared at the blurry frame.

“Who is that girl?” he asked tightly.

His lawyer didn’t miss a beat. “Lisa. Childhood friend. You’ve seen her name before. Lawyer’s daughter. Clean.”

Roman’s brows twitched. He remembered the name, vaguely. He’d seen it in letters, heard it in passing.

He just never cared to look.

“I told you not to waste time on her friends,” he said under his breath. “Now she’s posting the gates.”

His eyes darkened.

“Get something on her,” he said. “If there’s nothing, plant it.”

Because suddenly... it mattered. Who Lisa was. What she knew. How close she was to his wife.

Roman had signed the papers, worn the ring, made the deal.

But now, watching from a distance, it hit him— He never really knew Alessia. And now someone else did, and that person will be his secret weapon.