Chapter 2 - The Hand on the HandleThe brass knob turned with a smooth, silent click.
Elena pushed the door open, her sharp heels clicking softly against the custom Italian tile of the laundry room. She held a stack of leather-bound expense reports against her hip, her expression a mask of practiced efficiency. But the moment her eyes swept the room and locked onto me holding Mia, the pristine armor cracked.
Her gaze darted from my face down to the baby's tiny pink socks, then snapped instantly to Alessandro.
“Mr. Duca,” Elena said, her voice tightening just a fraction of an octave. “I heard voices. Is there a problem with the staff?”
Alessandro didn't move. He stood completely still, his tall frame blocking the doorway just enough to keep Elena from stepping fully inside. The air in the room felt thick enough to choke on. Every breath I took felt like inhaling glass.
“No problem at all, Elena,” Alessandro said, his voice dangerously low. “In fact, we were just discussing household rules.”
Elena’s eyes flicked back to me, narrowing into cold, sharp slits. I could read the panic flashing behind her mascara-rimmed eyes. She knew. Or rather, she knew she had been caught playing a game she thought she was winning.
“Ah,” Elena recovered quickly, smoothing her emerald silk blouse with a trembling hand. “The cleaning staff is notorious for bringing unapproved items into the service quarters. I’ve told this girl repeatedly that personal baggage has no place in a Duca residence. I can handle her dismissal immediately, sir. Security is already downstairs—”
“Wait,” Alessandro interrupted.
The single word cut through the room like a scalpel.
Alessandro turned his head slowly, looking at Elena the way a tiger looks at an injured gazelle. “Did I say she was fired?”
Elena blinked, taken aback. “Well… standard protocol for unauthorized guests dictates—”
“Standard protocol,” Alessandro repeated, stepping past me and closing the distance toward Elena until she was forced to take a step back into the hallway. “Tell me, Elena, where in the Duca corporate handbook or household guidelines is the rule regarding dependent children?”
Elena’s face drained of color. “It’s… it’s an unwritten understanding. For security and liability reasons—yours and the firm's—”
“An unwritten understanding,” Alessandro whispered, leaning down slightly so his face was level with hers. “Strange. I write the rules for my properties. My legal team drafts every clause. Yet, until three minutes ago, I was completely unaware that keeping a child in a laundry room was a capital offense punishable by immediate exile from the industry.”
He paused, letting the silence crush whatever excuse she was about to invent.
“Unless, of course, someone else was enforcing a different set of rules entirely. Someone who wanted this employee too terrified to ever ask for help.”
Elena swallowed hard, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. “Mr. Duca… I was only protecting your privacy. If word got out that your penthouse was being used as a daycare, the tabloids—”
“The tabloids wouldn't know a damn thing unless someone leaked it,” Alessandro said sharply, his eyes flashing with sudden, cold fury. “Or unless someone had a personal reason for wanting her gone.”
He turned back to look at me, standing frozen with Mia in my arms. The tension in the room shifted from ice-cold suspense to a volatile, unpredictable storm.
“Pack your things,” Alessandro said.
My stomach plummeted. This was it. The axe had finally fallen. I stepped forward, tears burning the backs of my eyes, ready to beg. “Please, Mr. Duca—just give me my final paycheck, I’ll leave right now, don't take it out on—”
“Not you,” Alessandro interrupted, his gaze never leaving Elena. He pointed a finger straight at Elena’s chest. “Her.”
Elena gasped, stepping back as if struck. “Mr. Duca! You can't be serious! After five years of dedicated service—after everything I’ve managed for your estate—you’re firing me over a maid and a brat?”
“Watch your language in my home,” Alessandro said, his voice dropping into a register so dark it sent a chill straight down my spine. “And as for your service, Elena? I think we’re going to audit every single account, every schedule, and every employee file you’ve touched since the day you started.”
Elena stared at him, realizing the game was entirely over. With a look of pure, venomous hatred directed squarely at me, she turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway, her heels clicking a furious rhythm until the elevator dinged and swallowed her whole.
The penthouse fell completely silent.
I stood holding Mia, my knees shaking so badly I thought I might collapse. Alessandro stood in the center of the hallway, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if a massive headache had just taken root behind his eyes.
May you like
After a long, agonizing moment, he looked up at me.
“You,” he said quietly. “Follow me to the study. We need to talk about your new job description.”
Related Stories
