Chapter 6 - A Debt Unpayable
The storm outside had cleared, leaving the massive Greystone mansion bathed in the pale, cold light of a late winter dawn.
In the private family kitchen on the second floor, the air smelled of fresh coffee, toasted brioche, and melted butter—smells that hadn't graced this floor in over a decade.
Grace Williams sat at the edge of a mahogany dining chair, her hands tightly folded in her lap, her head bowed. She looked pale, exhausted, and utterly defeated despite the medical kit Marcus had insisted a private doctor administer to her fever.
Standing beside her, swinging her legs back and forth on a oversized chair, was Zoe. The toddler was currently attacking a plate of scrambled eggs and chocolate-chip pancakes with fierce, undivided joy, her cheeks smeared with maple syrup.
The double doors opened, and Adrien Romano walked in. He had changed into a fresh white shirt and dark trousers, his coat slung over one shoulder.
Grace instantly stood up, her knees shaking so badly she had to grip the edge of the table for support.
“Mr. Romano,” she choked out, tears spilling over her eyelashes. “I... I don't know what to say. Mr. Vance told me what happened. Julian Cross... he was the one who stole the files, and... and I know you could have easily blamed me. A maid with no money, no husband, no protection. You could have thrown us out to the wolves, and no one would have ever questioned it.”
She dropped to her knees on the hardwood floor, pressing her forehead against the polished wood near Adrien’s shoes. “Please... take my job. Take whatever you want. Just let me and Zoe go in peace. Don't hurt her.”
Adrien stood completely still, looking down at the woman kneeling before him.
He remembered the cold basement hallway. He remembered the tiny, black-stained hands working desperately over his muddy Oxford shoe because she believed her mother’s life depended on it. He remembered the raw, terrifying loyalty of a three-year-old child who had faced down the most feared man in Chicago and offered him her best work in exchange for safety.
Adrien crouched down. Once again, he brought himself eye-level with someone kneeling before him. But this time, there was no threat in his dark eyes. Only a quiet, unyielding gravity.
“Stand up, Grace,” he said gently, reaching out to take her elbow and physically lifting her back to her feet.
She blinked at him, stunned by the warmth in his touch.
“Julian Cross is on his way to a federal black site where he will spend the rest of his natural life reflecting on his poor career choices,” Adrien said evenly. “The position of Senior Financial Administrator for the Romano Trust is currently vacant. It comes with a salary triple what you were making as a housekeeper, full medical coverage at the city’s best hospital for your recurring fevers, and an apartment in the executive staff wing.”
Grace gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Mr. Romano—I... I’m just a maid. I don't know anything about finance—”
“You know how to work hard,” Adrien interrupted quietly. “And more importantly, you raised a daughter who is fiercely, fiercely loyal. In my world, Grace, loyalty is the only currency that matters. Everything else is just paper.”
Zoe paused mid-bite, her fork hovering near her mouth as she looked up at Adrien with wide, curious eyes. “Are you still mad at my shoes, mister?”
A rare, faint ghost of a smile touched the corners of Adrien Romano’s mouth.
May you like
He reached out, using his clean white handkerchief to gently wipe a speck of maple syrup from the tip of the little girl’s nose.
“No, Zoe,” Adrien said softly, looking down at her with a warmth he hadn't felt since he was a boy himself. “Your shoeshine was the best investment I’ve ever made.”
