Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Linen WingDown in the laundry wing, the hum of industrial washers masked the quiet conversations that kept the estate running.
Maya rushed into the small room where Ellie was now curled up on a cot, already half-asleep with her cloth rabbit clutched against her cheek. Maya sank to her knees beside the bed, brushing dark curls away from her daughter's forehead.
“Ellie, honey,” Maya whispered, her voice shaking. “Why did you ask Mr. DeLuca for that?”
“He said I had wishes, Mama,” Ellie mumbled sleepily, her eyelids fluttering shut. “He looked sad. I wanted you to sleep.”
Maya closed her eyes, a knot of panic twisting in her stomach. Roman DeLuca was not a man who played games with children. People crossed him and vanished. If he felt provoked, or if he thought she was using her toddler to manipulate him into higher wages...
A heavy knock sounded on the open doorframe of the laundry quarters.
Maya gasped, spinning around.
Roman stood there in the doorway, his charcoal jacket removed, his white dress shirt open at the collar. He looked towering in the narrow hallway, his dark eyes sweeping over the cramped, spotless room.
“Mr. DeLuca,” Maya stammered, scrambling to her feet, instinctively smoothing her uniform. “I am so sorry. She didn't mean to bother you. She’s just a child, she doesn't understand boundaries—I’ll pack our bags tonight, just please don't—”
“Stop talking, Maya,” Roman interrupted softly, stepping into the room.
She froze. He wasn't yelling. There was no cold fury in his voice, only a heavy, unsettling calm.
“You’ve worked sixty-hour weeks for the last eight months,” Roman stated, looking down at the ledger clipboards stacked neatly on Maya’s small desk. “You haven't taken a single sick day, and I found out yesterday that Margaret has been covering for you when you nearly passed out by the folding tables.”
“I need this job,” Maya said fiercely, stepping defensively between Roman and her sleeping daughter. “I don't need charity, and I don't need your pity.”
“It’s not pity, Maya,” Roman said, taking a slow step closer. The air between them seemed to crackle with an unexpected, electric tension. “It’s math. A burnt-out employee makes mistakes. And mistakes in my house are fatal. Starting tomorrow, you work four-day weeks. Full pay. And the second wish your daughter made?”
May you like
Maya’s breath caught. “What... what was the second wish?”
Roman looked toward the sleeping child before returning his dark gaze to Maya. “She hasn't made it yet. But when she does, I suggest you don't try to stop her.”
