Chapter 3 - The Whispers in the Halls
News of Beatrice’s sudden elevation traveled through the massive Rossi mansion faster than a wildfire in dry brush.
By the time she carefully made her way down to the kitchen to fetch a special requested glass of warm milk for Lily, the atmosphere had completely changed.
The other maids, who were usually slender, conventionally beautiful women hired by the previous head housekeeper, stopped talking the moment Beatrice entered.
Their eyes darted to the expensive, soft cashmere sweater and tailored slacks Leo had explicitly ordered his personal shopper to purchase for her that morning.
Beatrice felt her cheeks burn with familiar shame, her old habit of wanting to turn invisible clawing desperately at her mind.
“Look who decided to join the working class,” muttered Clara, a tall, blonde maid who had always taken pleasure in bumping into Beatrice in the narrow hallways.
“I guess throwing yourself down a flight of stairs is the quickest way to get a promotion in this house,” Clara whispered loudly to another girl, eliciting cruel giggles.
Beatrice kept her eyes glued to the marble floor, silently pouring the milk into Lily’s favorite pink mug, desperate to retreat to the safety of the second floor.
She was so focused on escaping that she did not notice the heavy, imposing shadow that had silently filled the kitchen doorway.
“Clara,” a voice boomed like rolling thunder, instantly freezing the cruel laughter in the air.
Mateo Calder stepped into the fluorescent light of the kitchen, his dark, calculating eyes locking onto the blonde maid with lethal intent.
The entire kitchen staff stopped breathing simultaneously, paralyzed by the sudden appearance of the boss’s most dangerous enforcer.
“Pack your bags, and you have exactly ten minutes to vacate this property,” Mateo ordered, his voice dangerously low and completely devoid of mercy.
Clara gasped, dropping a silver polishing cloth onto the floor as tears of instant panic sprang to her eyes.
“Mr. Calder, please, it was just a joke!” she pleaded, her voice trembling violently.
Mateo did not blink, nor did he offer even a sliver of sympathy.
“Miss Miller is under the direct, personal protection of Leo Rossi,” Mateo announced loudly, ensuring every single person in the room heard the absolute truth.
“Anyone who disrespects her, questions her authority, or makes her feel unwelcome in this house will answer directly to me,” Mateo promised darkly.
He turned his gaze slowly around the room, making eye contact with every terrified staff member.
“Are we absolutely clear on the new hierarchy of this estate?” Mateo demanded, and a chorus of frightened, desperate agreements echoed back to him.
Beatrice stood completely frozen by the counter, holding the warm mug of milk in her bandaged hands.
Mateo walked over to her, his intimidating demeanor softening just a fraction as he looked down at the woman who had saved his boss’s child.
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“Let me carry that up the stairs for you, Miss Miller,” Mateo offered politely, holding out his hand for the mug.
For the first time in her entire life, Beatrice realized she was no longer fighting alone in the dark.
