جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 70

Elena woke to the sound of heavy curtains brushing the floor. Sunlight peeked through the windows of her small room. For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then it came rushing back—the gates, the guards, the impossible mansion.Her stomach twisted. Today was her first full day as Dante Moretti’s personal maid. She dressed quickly, choosing simple clothes. Nothing flashy. Nothing that could draw attention. She didn’t want mistakes. Not here.The hallway outside was silent except for the faint click of polished shoes on marble. A tall man in a black suit waited. His eyes didn’t blink as he nodded at her. “Follow me,” he said.Elena followed, gripping her small bag tightly. Every step she took echoed. The mansion felt enormous, even though she had already seen parts of it yesterday. The walls were lined with paintings of men in suits—men whose eyes seemed to follow her. She swallowed hard.They stopped outside a huge wooden door. The older man knocked lightly. “He’s waiting,” he said,

Elena wiped her hands on the edge of her apron and checked the time on the hallway clock.11:47 p.m.Too late for decent people. Perfect timing for the rich.The executive floor of the Bellissimo Grand Hotel was quiet, but not empty. It was never empty. Money did not sleep. It whispered behind locked doors and signed papers after midnight.“Elena,” Mrs. Carter called from the end of the hall. “Suite 1903 is added. Be quick.”Elena nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”She didn’t complain. She never did.Her mother’s hospital bill sat heavy in her bag downstairs. The pharmacy had refused to release medication that morning without payment. Her youngest brother needed new shoes for school. Her older sister had stopped asking for help with tuition.Elena could not afford mistakes. Or curiosity.She pushed her cart toward Suite 1903.The door was slightly open.That was unusual.She paused.There were voices inside. Male. Low. Tense.She should leave.She knew that.But the hotel had rules. Open door mean

Elena woke to the sound of distant footsteps. The sun had not fully risen, but the mansion was already alive. Doors opening. Soft murmurs. Guards moving silently along the halls. Every sound reminded her she was never truly alone here.She dressed quickly, keeping her uniform neat. Today, she was assigned to the east wing—the private rooms Dante used for meetings, the library, and the small lounge. She had been warned to stay out of his office unless summoned.The hallway stretched endlessly before her. Every corner felt familiar now, yet strange. Marble floors reflected her shoes with an almost mocking clarity. She felt the weight of eyes in the shadows. Guards. Staff. Dante himself. Maybe all three.She entered the library first. Books lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Leather-bound volumes, thick and heavy, titles in gold leaf. She ran her fingers lightly along the spines. A man’s voice broke the silence.“Curious, aren’t we?”Elena jumped. Dante stood at the doorway, arms cro

The mansion was darker than usual that evening. Shadows stretched across the polished marble floors, and the flicker of candlelight cast long shapes against the walls. Elena carried a tray of tea, her hands steady but her mind racing.She had learned to move silently, but tonight, the silence felt heavier. Something was wrong.Dante’s office door was closed, yet she could hear low voices from inside. Guards shifted nervously in the hallway. Her stomach tightened.“Elena,” a soft voice called. It was one of the younger guards. “Stay here.”She nodded, trying not to shake.Inside, Dante stood behind his desk, his expression unreadable. Across from him, a man she didn’t recognize was speaking. Words like “weakness,” “threat,” and “target” floated faintly to her ears.Dante’s hand rested lightly on the desk, fingers tapping. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.The stranger’s voice rose. “You can’t protect her forever. She’s a liability.”Elena’s chest clenched. Her heart raced. He wasn’t talking

The apartment smelled faintly of boiled cabbage and disinfectant. Her mother was asleep in the recliner, her cough soft but persistent. Her younger siblings huddled under blankets on the sofa, still dreaming. Bills and overdue notices lay in a messy pile on the table.Her hands shook as she poured coffee into three chipped mugs. Last night’s memory clawed at her chest. Dante. The blood. The way he had looked at her. Cold, precise, and terrifyingly calm.She tried to shake it off. She had a job to do. A family to feed. She couldn’t afford fear.Her phone vibrated. Unknown number.“Elena Rossi?”Her stomach dropped. She pressed “yes” before thinking.“This is Dante Moretti. You saw something last night. I need to speak with you. Discreetly.”Her fingers froze.She typed back: I don’t want trouble.You already have it, the reply came almost instantly.She didn’t respond. She couldn’t.By mid-morning, two black SUVs parked outside her building. Two men in suits stepped out. One looked old