Chapter 2
Beyond the heavy silk drapes separating the drawing room from the service hallways, Elora Bennett leaned weakly against a polished marble column. The twenty-five-year-old maid was breathtakingly beautiful, possessing delicate features, clear skin, and highly expressive eyes, but tonight she looked entirely broken. She possessed an exhausted, deeply vulnerable manner that sharply contradicted the festive elegance of the estate.
She wore a fitted black maid dress with a cinched waist, a white apron, white collar and cuffs, and a white ruffled maid headband. However, her pristine uniform was a ruin. Her black dress was deeply creased, her white apron was terribly rumpled, and her lace headband sat noticeably askew in her disheveled hair. Worse than her uniform was her face. Her expressive eyes were profoundly puffy and darkened with deep shadows from prolonged, silent crying.
"Elora, you cannot stay hiding out here," the head butler whispered harshly, adjusting his own collar. "The gift exchange is beginning. Mr. Vale requires the plush toys organized at the low worktable."
"I am trying, sir," Elora replied, her American accent trembling so violently she could barely form the words. "But if Miss Rowe sees me again..."
"Miss Rowe is the future lady of this house," the butler interrupted coldly. "Whatever reprimand you received today, you must endure it. Now dry your eyes and do your job."
Elora squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the sheer, vindictive cruelty of that afternoon. While cleaning Sabrina's private dressing room, Elora had accidentally stumbled upon a horrifying secret. She had found the prosthetic silicone bump hidden in a velvet hatbox. Sabrina had caught her looking. The socialite had not merely threatened Elora's employment; she had threatened Elora's life, shoving her violently against a mirrored vanity and physically degrading her into absolute silence. The pregnancy was a complete fabrication, a desperate, calculated lie engineered to secure Ronan’s proposal and cement the alliance between the Vale and Rowe syndicates.
May you like
"I will do my job," Elora whispered, wiping a trembling hand across her wet cheeks.
She pushed through the heavy silk drapes, stepping back into the bright, airy light of the grand drawing room. The golden reflections offered no place to hide her disheveled appearance. She kept her head down, navigating the velvet sofas with agonizing care. She approached a low worktable completely surrounded by plush toys and beautifully wrapped presents, her hands shaking as she began to organize the gifts for the children in attendance. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She knew she was harboring a secret that could tear the entire criminal empire apart, and the weight of it was crushing her soul.
