Chapter 2 — The Maid's Daughter
Chapter 2 — The Maid's Daughter
By seven the next morning, everyone at the Moretti estate knew about the cookie.
By eight, everyone knew Alessandro Moretti had smiled.
By nine, I was terrified I was going to lose my job.
Not because Emma had entered the west wing.
Not because she had spoken to the most feared man in the house as though he were a lonely grandfather.
Not even because she had called him Daddy.
It was because of the way the other employees looked at me.
They weren't angry.
They were afraid.
And somehow, that was worse.
I stood in the staff kitchen preparing breakfast while Mrs. Bell watched me from across the room.
She was the head housekeeper, a woman in her late sixties who had worked for the Moretti family for almost thirty years.
She folded a dish towel.
Unfolded it.
Folded it again.
Finally, she said, “You should send the child home.”
I stopped stirring the coffee.
“My sitter is sick.”
“Find another one.”
“I can't.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand that I need this job.”
Mrs. Bell's expression softened.
“That isn't what I mean.”
I looked at her.
“What, then?”
She glanced toward the ceiling.
“Mr. Moretti doesn't allow children in this house.”
“I know.”
“He doesn't allow anyone to get close to him.”
“I know.”
“And now your daughter has done both.”
I looked toward the doorway.
Emma was sitting at a small table, coloring Mr. Rabbit's ears purple.
“She doesn't know who he is.”
“That may be exactly why he likes her.”
I frowned.
Mrs. Bell lowered her voice.
“People here have forgotten what he was like before the accident.”
I didn't answer.
“Before,” she continued, “Mr. Moretti could walk into a room and make everyone straighten their backs.”
“He still can.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Now he makes people afraid because they feel sorry for him.”
I looked toward the hall.
“Does he hate the wheelchair?”
Mrs. Bell hesitated.
“He hates being pitied.”
That sentence stayed with me.
At that moment, Emma looked up.
“Mama.”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Moretti wants tea.”
I blinked.
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
“When?”
“Before he went upstairs.”
I stared at her.
“Alessandro Moretti told you he wants tea?”
She nodded.
“With honey.”
Mrs. Bell nearly dropped the towel.
I carried the tea to the west wing myself.
I knocked.
“Come in.”
Alessandro sat beside the window.
He wasn't working.
He was looking outside.
The wheelchair was positioned directly toward the glass.
The morning light fell across his face.
He looked different without a room full of men around him.
Less like a king.
More like a man.
I placed the tea on the table.
“Emma said you wanted this.”
“I did.”
“She also said honey.”
“She was right.”
I smiled.
“She's usually right.”
Alessandro looked at me.
“You're still afraid of me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I thought about lying.
Then decided not to.
“Because everyone else is.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
I turned to leave.
“Wait.”
I stopped.
“Your daughter.”
“What about her?”
“She stays.”
I frowned.
“I thought—”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Because she likes me.”
I couldn't help smiling.
“That may be the first time someone has said that to you.”
His mouth twitched.
“You're not wrong.”
He looked at the tea.
Then back at me.
“What's your name?”
I realized something embarrassing.
I'd been working in his house since yesterday.
He knew my daughter's name.
He knew she had a mother.
But he didn't know mine.
“Anna.”
“Anna what?”
“Anna Carter.”
The change in his face was immediate.
Tiny.
But unmistakable.
“Carter?”
I nodded.
“Why?”
He looked away.
“Nothing.”
“Mr. Moretti?”
He didn't answer.
I felt something tighten in my chest.
“You knew that name.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“I know many names.”
“Daniel Carter?”
Silence.
My hands went cold.
Alessandro's expression hardened.
“Who told you that name?”
“Nobody.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because you recognized it.”
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Finally, he said:
“Leave the tea.”
I did.
But I didn't leave immediately.
“Mr. Moretti.”
“Yes?”
“If you know something about Daniel…”
“I don't.”
The answer came too quickly.
I knew he was lying.
He knew I knew.
Neither of us said anything else.
I left.
When the door closed behind me, Alessandro looked toward the security monitor.
A file was open on his desk.
DANIEL CARTER — DECEASED.
Underneath it was another document.
ANNA CARTER — IDENTITY VERIFIED.
And beneath that:
EMMA CARTER — PATERNAL RECORD: SEALED.
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“Why did you hide her?”
That afternoon, Emma disappeared again.
This time, I didn't panic.
I knew where she was.
She was in the library.
Alessandro was there too.
He sat near the fireplace while Emma arranged wooden blocks on the carpet.
“What are you building?” he asked.
“A house.”
“For who?”
“Us.”
Alessandro looked at me.
I was standing by the bookshelves.
“Us?”
Emma nodded.
“You, me, Mommy, Mr. Rabbit.”
Alessandro smiled.
“And who lives here?”
Emma pointed at him.
“You.”
He laughed softly.
It was the first real laugh I'd heard from him.
Then Emma added:
“And Daddy.”
The laughter stopped.
Alessandro looked at her.
“Who's Daddy?”
“Daniel.”
My heart stopped.
Emma continued building.
“He comes when I'm sleeping.”
I moved toward her.
“Emma.”
She looked up.
“He says not to tell.”
Alessandro's expression changed.
“Anna.”
I shook my head.
“I don't know why she says these things.”
Emma frowned.
“He said he's hiding.”
I knelt beside her.
“Where?”
She pointed toward the wall.
“Behind there.”
Alessandro looked at the bookshelves.
The library suddenly felt much colder.
“Matteo,” he called.
The door opened almost instantly.
“Yes?”
“Search this room.”
Matteo looked confused.
“For what?”
“Anything.”
The search began.
Books moved.
Drawers opened.
Panels examined.
Then Matteo stopped.
“Boss.”
He pointed toward the wall.
There was a small camera.
Hidden behind a decorative wooden carving.
Alessandro's expression became murderous.
“Who installed that?”
Matteo checked the wiring.
“It connects to the private security network.”
“Meaning?”
“Someone with access installed it.”
I stared at the camera.
Someone had been watching us.
Watching Emma.
Watching Alessandro.
Watching me.
Then Matteo's phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
He listened.
“Say that again.”
A pause.
“Where?”
He looked at Alessandro.
“The staff corridor.”
“What happened?”
“Someone entered Anna's room.”
My blood ran cold.
We ran.
The door was open.
Nothing appeared disturbed.
Emma's bed was untouched.
Her toys were still there.
Then I saw the photograph.
It was lying on her pillow.
A photograph of Daniel.
My hands trembled as I picked it up.
This one was different.
Daniel stood beside Alessandro.
Both men were younger.
Both were smiling.
On the back, someone had written:
HE TRUSTED HIM TOO.
Alessandro took the photograph.
His face became unreadable.
“Matteo.”
“Yes?”
“Seal the house.”
“It already is.”
“No.”
Alessandro looked at him.
“Seal it from the inside.”
Matteo understood.
His expression hardened.
“Someone is still here.”
At dinner, no one spoke.
The staff sat together in the servants' dining room.
The usual conversation was gone.
Every sound seemed amplified.
Forks.
Plates.
Footsteps.
Emma sat beside me eating mashed potatoes.
Then the kitchen lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
The power went out.
Emma grabbed my hand.
“Mama.”
“I'm here.”
Someone screamed in the hallway.
Then came a loud crash.
A gunshot.
I froze.
Another shot.
Security rushed through the corridor.
Someone shouted:
“Protect the boss!”
I grabbed Emma.
We ran toward the nearest locked room.
But before I reached it, a man stepped from the shadows.
Black coat.
Gloves.
Face covered.
He looked at Emma.
Not me.
Emma.
He raised his weapon.
I screamed.
A wheelchair came from behind him.
Fast.
Alessandro slammed into the man's legs.
The gun fell.
Matteo tackled him.
Everything happened in seconds.
Then silence.
Alessandro looked at Emma.
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head.
He looked at me.
“Are you?”
I nodded.
Then the masked man laughed.
Alessandro turned toward him.
“Who sent you?”
The man said nothing.
Matteo pulled off his mask.
He was one of the estate's own security guards.
I recognized him.
He had served coffee that morning.
Alessandro stared at him.
“You've worked here six years.”
The man smiled.
“Seven.”
Alessandro's voice dropped.
“Why?”
The guard looked toward Emma.
“Because she's not supposed to be here.”
I felt Emma's fingers tighten around mine.
Alessandro's eyes became cold.
“Who told you that?”
The guard laughed.
“You really don't know?”
“Know what?”
The man leaned closer.
“Your little maid isn't just a maid.”
My blood ran cold.
He looked directly at me.
“Ask her who her mother was.”
Then he bit down.
Matteo grabbed his jaw.
Too late.
The man collapsed.
Dead.
Poison.
Emma began crying.
Alessandro looked at me.
I couldn't speak.
Because the guard's final words had awakened a memory I had spent my entire life trying to forget.
My mother's face.
Her trembling hands.
The night she had packed one suitcase.
The words she had whispered before we left our old home:
“Never let the Morettis find you.”
I had never understood why.
Until now.
Alessandro looked at me.
“Anna.”
I swallowed.
“My mother…”
“Yes?”
“She knew your family.”
His expression tightened.
“How?”
I looked toward Emma.
Then back at him.
“I don't know.”
But that was a lie.
Because suddenly I remembered something else.
A name.
A name my mother had forbidden me to say.
A name that had been written on the back of the only photograph she had kept hidden for twenty years.
Moretti.
And for the first time, I understood why someone had called my daughter valuable.
It wasn't because she was Alessandro's child.
It was because of me.
That night, Alessandro found me standing alone outside the library.
“You should sleep.”
“I can't.”
“Neither can I.”
I looked at him.
“Why did you protect Emma?”
He didn't hesitate.
“Because she's a child.”
“That isn't the whole reason.”
“No.”
He looked through the window.
“She reminds me of someone.”
“Who?”
“My brother.”
I frowned.
“You have a brother?”
“I had one.”
“What happened?”
Alessandro's jaw tightened.
“He died the same night I lost the ability to walk.”
I didn't know what to say.
Then he looked at me.
“Anna.”
“Yes?”
“Tomorrow, I'm going to tell you everything I know about Daniel Carter.”
My heart pounded.
“Why?”
“Because I think your daughter's father is alive.”
I stopped breathing.
Alessandro continued:
“And I think he may be the only person who knows why someone is trying to take Emma.”
Behind us, somewhere deep inside the estate, a door slowly opened.
Neither of us heard it.
A shadow crossed the hallway.
May you like
Then a whisper disappeared into the darkness.
“She's finally remembered.”
