Chapter 3
The banquet was in full swing, a symphony of clinking fine porcelain and low, calculated conversations. Elise moved through the room like a ghost in her sophisticated black maid dress, ensuring the crystal stemware of the guests remained full. Her fair, rosy skin felt uncomfortably warm under the bright, luminous light of the cascading crystal chandeliers. The sheer volume of the guests and the oppressive luxury of the room were beginning to overwhelm her fragile state of mind.
She needed a moment. She needed to hear her mother’s voice.
Elise slipped backward through the heavy mahogany doors, retreating into the quiet, dim corridor that led to the service pantry. She leaned against the cool ivory-paneled wall, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. With trembling fingers, she reached into the pocket of her white apron and pulled out her cell phone.
She unlocked the screen, navigating to the saved voicemails. Just looking at the digital timer—one minute and twelve seconds—brought a fresh wave of tears to her expressive eyes. She pressed the phone to her ear, closing her eyes as the warm, loving voice of her late mother filled the silence.
"I love you, my beautiful Elise. Be brave for me..."
The recorded words were a lifeline, anchoring her to the world. But the fragile peace was shattered in an instant.
"What exactly do you think you are doing?"
Elise gasped, her eyes flying open. She fumbled to pull the phone away from her ear, hitting the pause button frantically.
Vanessa Shaw stood at the end of the corridor, the sculpted satin of her gown shimmering in the soft light. The fiancée’s fair, rosy skin was pulled tight over her sharp cheekbones in an expression of absolute disgust. Her diamond earrings caught the light as she stalked toward the young housemaid.
"I... I apologize, Miss Shaw," Elise stammered, her voice shaking violently as she tried to slip the phone back into her apron pocket. "I was just taking a brief moment. I am returning to the dining room immediately."
Vanessa closed the distance, her manicured hand shooting out with striking speed. She snatched the cell phone directly out of Elise’s trembling fingers.
"Hey!" Elise cried out, her natural grace faltering. "Please, give that back! That belongs to me!"
"A maid does not carry a personal device during a formal banquet," Vanessa sneered, holding the phone out of Elise's reach. She tapped the screen, her eyes scanning the paused audio file. "What is this? Are you listening to music while my guests are waiting for their wine?"
"It is a voice message," Elise pleaded, stepping forward, her hands raised in a desperate, begging gesture. "From my mother. She passed away last night. It is her final goodbye. Please, Miss Shaw, I promise I won't look at it again tonight. Just let me put it away."
Vanessa looked at the beautiful, weeping housemaid. She knew of the quiet, lingering glances Nolan cast toward Elise. She knew the mafia boss harbored a dangerous, soft affection for the girl in the black and white uniform. Vanessa considered Elise’s grief not as a tragedy, but as a pathetic, irritating inconvenience to her perfectly orchestrated evening.
"Your mother died?" Vanessa asked, her tone completely devoid of empathy.
"Yes," Elise sobbed quietly, moisture gathering rapidly along her lower eyelids. "Please. That message is all I have left."
Vanessa’s lips curled into a faint, cruel smile. "Grief is a private matter, Elise. It does not belong in the middle of my engagement dinner. It is distracting you from your duties."
"I am doing my duties!" Elise begged, tears finally spilling over her delicate cheekbones. "I will work a double shift. I will clean the entire hall. Just please, give me my phone."
"I think I will hold onto this for the remainder of the evening," Vanessa said, her American accent dripping with condescension. She slipped Elise’s phone into the small, hidden pocket of her satin gown. "Perhaps it will teach you to focus on the man who pays your wages, rather than wallowing in your own self-pity."
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"Miss Shaw, please!" Elise cried, stepping forward.
"Take another step toward me, and I will have my guards throw you out into the street," Vanessa warned, her voice dropping to a vicious hiss. "Dry your eyes, fix your apron, and serve the dessert. If I see a single tear on your face in that dining room, I will shatter this phone with my own heel."
