CHAPTER 3 — The Woman Everyone Ignored
"I should've made sure the brakes actually killed him."
The sentence echoed inside my head long after Vanessa and Daniel left my bedroom.
For several seconds, I didn't move.
Not because I couldn't.
Because if I stood now...
The game would end too early.
Outside the half-open door, Clara remained frozen, the untouched medicine tray trembling in her hands.
She looked at me.
I looked back.
Slowly...
I lifted one finger to my lips.
Silence.
Her eyes widened.
She had just witnessed two impossible things.
First...
I was awake.
Second...
The crippled heir had just asked her not to say a word.
She nodded almost invisibly before quietly slipping inside.
"My medicine, sir."
Her voice sounded perfectly normal.
Perfectly rehearsed.
Anyone listening outside would believe nothing unusual had happened.
She placed the pills on my bedside table.
Then, while pretending to straighten the blanket, she whispered without moving her lips.
"They'll come back."
"I know."
"They're planning something."
"I know."
"You..."
She swallowed.
"...you can walk."
I smiled faintly.
"Yes."
She stared at me for several seconds.
Instead of looking shocked...
She looked relieved.
"So the accident didn't break you."
"No."
"What broke was my trust."
For the first time since she'd started working at Whitmore Manor...
Clara smiled.
It wasn't the smile of a servant.
It was the smile of someone who had finally stopped feeling alone.
The next morning, the mansion returned to its usual routine.
Breakfast was served in the glass dining room overlooking the lake.
Vanessa arrived late, wearing sunglasses despite being indoors.
She kissed my forehead dramatically.
"My poor fiancé."
She sat beside Daniel instead of me.
Neither noticed Clara quietly pouring coffee.
Or perhaps...
They simply never noticed her at all.
People like Vanessa rarely looked down.
During breakfast, Uncle Martin unfolded a financial newspaper.
"The company's stock dropped another four percent yesterday."
Vanessa sighed loudly.
"Investors are frightened."
Daniel nodded.
"They need confidence."
My uncle looked directly at me.
"Nathan..."
He hesitated.
"...perhaps it's time to appoint someone as temporary CEO."
I pretended to consider it.
"You already have someone in mind."
Vanessa smiled.
"I only want what's best for the company."
I almost admired how effortlessly she lied.
After breakfast, Attorney Evelyn Ross arrived.
She wheeled me into my private library.
The moment the doors closed...
I stood.
Evelyn smiled.
"It never gets old."
Marcus entered carrying three black folders.
"The bedroom recording has been secured."
"The highway investigation?"
Marcus opened the first folder.
"We found evidence someone accessed your garage the night before the crash."
He slid several photographs across the table.
Security footage.
A hooded figure.
Time stamp: 11:43 PM.
The figure unlocked my sports car.
Stayed exactly six minutes.
Then disappeared.
Marcus looked at me.
"We enhanced the images."
He handed me another photograph.
Even blurred...
The expensive wristwatch was unmistakable.
Limited edition.
Custom engraved.
Only one man I knew owned that watch.
Daniel.
The second folder contained bank records.
Large transfers.
Hidden shell companies.
Payments made to an auto mechanic two days before my accident.
The mechanic...
Had disappeared.
The third folder made the room completely silent.
Marcus didn't speak.
He simply placed a single photograph in front of me.
Clara.
Leaving the servants' entrance three nights before the accident.
She was crying.
Holding an envelope.
I looked up immediately.
"What is this?"
Marcus answered carefully.
"We followed everyone."
"I know."
"Clara met someone."
"Who?"
Marcus hesitated.
"A private investigator."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"We don't know."
That afternoon...
I decided to find out myself.
For the first time in three years...
I entered the servants' quarters.
The room was tiny.
One narrow bed.
One bookshelf.
A worn photograph of an elderly woman.
No jewelry.
No expensive clothes.
No hidden money.
Only simplicity.
Clara looked horrified when she saw me standing.
"Sir..."
She immediately glanced toward the hallway.
"If someone sees—"
"They won't."
She looked at my legs again.
"I never imagined..."
"I know."
I picked up the photograph.
"Your grandmother?"
She nodded.
"She's in the hospital."
"You've never asked me for help."
"I didn't want pity."
Silence filled the room.
Finally I asked,
"Why were you meeting a private investigator?"
Her face lost all color.
"You know?"
"I know enough."
Tears slowly gathered in her eyes.
"I wasn't spying on you."
"I never said you were."
She reached beneath her mattress.
Pulled out a thick brown envelope.
And placed it in my hands.
"I've been trying to save your life."
Inside the envelope...
Were photographs.
Dozens of them.
Vanessa kissing Daniel.
Hidden meetings.
Restaurant receipts.
Hotel reservations.
Phone records.
My stomach tightened.
"When did you start collecting these?"
She looked down.
"Almost a year ago."
"A year?"
"I wanted to tell you."
"Why didn't you?"
"No one would've believed the maid."
Then she said something that made every piece finally fit together.
"The night before your accident..."
She whispered.
"...I saw Daniel leave your garage."
For several seconds...
Neither of us spoke.
Then Clara reached into the envelope one last time.
"There was one more thing."
She handed me a tiny flash drive.
"I didn't know what was on it."
"I took it because I was afraid they'd destroy it."
"Where did you find it?"
"In Miss Vanessa's dressing room."
Marcus immediately connected it to his laptop.
The screen flickered.
A video appeared.
Security footage.
Not from my house.
From Daniel's office.
Vanessa's voice filled the room.
"If the crash doesn't kill him..."
Daniel answered calmly.
"...the wheelchair will."
The recording ended.
Every person inside the library stopped breathing.
Because now...
This wasn't greed anymore.
It was conspiracy to murder.
That evening, I looked at Clara differently than ever before.
Not as a maid.
Not as someone beneath me.
But as the only person in my entire mansion...
Who had risked everything...
Without expecting anything in return.
And I silently made myself one promise.
When this war ended...
May you like
She would never wear a servant's uniform again.
END OF CHAPTER 3
