Chapter 1 - THE SHADOW IN THE COURTYARDDante’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking in his cheek as Clara’s words hung heavily in the damp kitchen air. The wind howled against the leaded glass, a brutal reminder of the storm raging outside the iron gates of the Moretti estate. But inside, the real storm was brewing right here, in the heart of his home.
"Measuring the distance," Dante repeated, the phrase tasting like ash in his mouth. He uncrossed his arms, his tall frame casting an imposing silhouette under the amber sconces. "Show me where she stood."
Clara led him hastily down the long, dimly lit corridor toward the east wing, her soft slippers padding against the hardwood floor. The Moretti estate was ancient, filled with echoing hallways, heavy velvet drapes, and secrets that spanned generations. Yet, tonight, every shadow seemed sharper, every creaking floorboard a warning.
They reached the nursery door. It was slightly ajar. A thin strip of warm yellow light spilled out onto the dark rug.
Dante motioned for Clara to stay back. He pushed the heavy oak door open with two fingers, stepping soundlessly into the room.
The air here smelled faintly of baby powder and lavender, mixed with the lingering chill of the open window. In the center of the room, the mahogany crib stood empty. Little Leo was fast asleep in the adjoining nanny's quarters, safe for now. But standing right where Clara had described—silhouetted against the rain-streaked glass—was Elena.
She hadn't heard them enter. Her posture was rigid, clad in a high-necked black dress that seemed entirely too formal for a domestic worker. Her hands rested flat against the wooden windowsill, fingers splayed out, perfectly still.
Dante took a deliberate step forward. "Elena."
May you like
She didn't jump. She didn't gasp. With agonizing slowness, she turned her head over her shoulder. Her face was half-shadowed, but her eyes—pale, luminous, and terrifyingly blank—fixed entirely on Dante.
"Mr. Moretti," she murmured, her voice like dry leaves scraping across pavement. "You should lock your windows. The drop from this floor... it is remarkably unforgiving."
