Chapter 2 - The Job No Housekeeper Should Have Been Offered
Adeline stared at him.
For several seconds, the only sound in the enormous bathroom was water dripping from the faucet she had forgotten to close completely.
Roarke Castellano sat opposite her with the patience of a man accustomed to having entire rooms wait for him.
“What does that mean?” she finally asked.
“It means you were right.”
“That isn't reassuring.”
The faintest change touched his mouth.
Not quite a smile.
“I don’t give away money.”
Adeline pushed herself upright against the marble vanity. Her legs still felt weak, but fear had given her enough energy to stand.
“Then we understand each other.”
She reached for the cleaning cart.
Roarke didn't move.
“You were studying nursing.”
“Was.”
“You completed three years?”
“Almost four.”
“And you left only because you couldn't afford to continue.”
Adeline’s fingers tightened around the cart handle.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because I have a proposition.”
She gave a tired laugh.
There it was.
The price.
She had known it would come eventually.
“I’m listening.”
“My grandmother is coming to live at the Castellano estate temporarily.”
Adeline blinked.
Of all the things she had expected, that wasn't one of them.
“Your grandmother?”
“Lucia Castellano. Seventy-eight. Recovering from hip surgery. She despises private nurses, has fired four caregivers in six weeks, and threatened the last one with a fireplace poker.”
Despite herself, Adeline stared.
Roarke added calmly, “She missed.”
“That's comforting.”
This time she was certain she saw amusement in his eyes.
“I need someone capable of helping her who won't treat her like an invalid.”
“I’m not a nurse.”
“You nearly were.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No. Which is why you won't perform anything requiring a nursing license. You’ll be her personal companion. Meals, medication reminders according to her written schedule, walking assistance, appointments. There will be licensed medical staff on the property.”
Adeline folded her arms.
“And in exchange?”
“A salary.”
“How much?”
He told her.
Adeline thought she had misheard him.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It’s competitive.”
“It’s more than I make from both jobs combined.”
“Three times more.”
“That makes it worse.”
Roarke leaned back.
“You distrust generosity.”
“I distrust powerful strangers offering desperate women miraculous solutions at two in the morning.”
“Good.”
The answer stopped her.
Roarke stood.
“People who trust too easily don't last long around me.”
Adeline stared at him.
There was no flirtation in the statement.
No threat either.
Just fact.
“You would have a written employment contract,” he continued. “Reviewed by an attorney of your choice. Fixed hours. Defined responsibilities. No hidden obligations. No debt repayment. No favors owed.”
“And Posy?”
Roarke glanced toward the photograph.
“What about her?”
“I don't take a job that means abandoning her.”
“Then don't.”
His answer came immediately.
Adeline frowned.
“There’s a guesthouse on the estate. Two bedrooms. You and Posy can live there while you're employed.”
She laughed once.
“You really do solve everything with money.”
“No. Money solves money problems. People are considerably more difficult.”
Before Adeline could respond, the bathroom door opened.
Silvio stood there.
“Roarke.”
Something in his voice changed the atmosphere instantly.
Roarke turned.
Silvio's expression was controlled.
“We have a problem downstairs.”
“What problem?”
“The security system recorded an unauthorized access card entering this floor at 10:14.”
Adeline's stomach dropped.
“That was me.”
Silvio looked directly at her.
“No.”
Silence.
Roarke’s eyes sharpened.
Silvio continued.
“Her employee card entered at 10:03. Someone else came eleven minutes later.”
Adeline slowly released the cleaning cart.
Roarke asked, “Who?”
“We don't know. The credential was cloned.”
A cold sensation moved down Adeline’s back.
She remembered something.
A sound.
When she had been cleaning the bedroom, before exhaustion finally drove her into the bathroom, she had heard the suite door.
She had assumed it was another housekeeper.
Then she remembered footsteps.
Not approaching.
Leaving.
“I heard someone,” she whispered.
Both men looked at her.
“When?”
“Maybe ten fifteen. I was changing towels. I heard the main door open.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
Adeline closed her eyes.
Think.
She had been exhausted. Her memories came in fragments.
The bathroom.
Fresh towels.
The medicine in her pocket.
The photograph.
A shadow crossing the bedroom mirror.
Then—
“A smell.”
Silvio frowned.
“What smell?”
“Cigarettes.”
Roarke looked at Silvio.
Silvio's expression did not move.
“No one on the executive security detail smokes.”
Adeline shook her head.
“It wasn't normal cigarette smoke. Sweet. Almost like vanilla.”
For the first time, Roarke became completely still.
Silvio looked at him.
They knew something she didn't.
“What?” Adeline asked.
Roarke ignored the question.
“Lock the hotel down.”
Silvio reached for his phone.
“No one leaves,” Roarke continued. “Staff, guests, security. Pull every camera between ten and eleven.”
“That will attract attention.”
“I don't care.”
Silvio nodded and walked out.
Adeline watched him disappear.
“What was that about?”
Roarke didn't answer.
He crossed the bedroom and began inspecting the furniture.
Adeline followed reluctantly.
“What are you looking for?”
“Something that shouldn't be here.”
His eyes moved across the nightstand, desk, curtains.
Then Adeline noticed it.
The wastebasket.
She had emptied it earlier.
Now something was inside.
“Wait.”
Roarke stopped her before she could approach.
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and crouched beside the bin.
Inside lay a burned wooden match.
A gold emblem was stamped along its side.
Adeline saw Roarke’s face change.
“Do you recognize it?”
“Yes.”
“From where?”
“A private club.”
He stood.
“Whose?”
“My uncle’s.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
Adeline swallowed.
“So somebody connected to your family came into your suite?”
“Apparently.”
“Why?”
Roarke looked toward the locked safe built behind a painting.
The safe door appeared untouched.
Then Adeline saw something else.
A tiny white thread caught beneath its edge.
“Was that there before?”
Roarke followed her gaze.
Within seconds, his expression hardened.
The safe had been opened.
Whatever had happened tonight, Adeline realized, she had accidentally slept through the middle of it.
Roarke opened the safe.
He searched once.
Then again.
“What’s missing?”
He turned toward her.
“A ledger.”
“What kind of ledger?”
“The kind men kill for.”
Adeline’s face lost color.
Roarke stepped closer.
“You said you wanted to keep your job.”
“Yes.”
“You can't.”
Her heart sank.
Then he continued.
“Because whoever entered this room knows there was a housekeeper here tonight. Until I know who they are, returning to your normal life could put you and Posy in danger.”
Adeline stared at him.
“You're telling me someone might come after my eight-year-old sister because I fell asleep?”
“No.”
His expression became terrifyingly calm.
“I’m telling you they might come after her because they think you saw them.”
Adeline’s phone rang.
She nearly jumped.
The screen displayed the number of Posy's babysitter.
She answered immediately.
“Mrs. Hart?”
The woman on the other end was crying.
Adeline’s face drained.
“What happened?”
A pause.
Then Adeline whispered:
“Where is Posy?”
Roarke was beside her instantly.
Adeline slowly lowered the phone.
May you like
Her eyes filled with terror.
“The apartment door is open.”
