Chapter 3 - The Maid Who Finally Looked Up
By morning, everyone knew something had changed.
Nobody knew exactly what.
Sadie entered the kitchen at seven wearing her gray uniform.
A new bouquet sat beside the sink.
Not carnations.
White roses.
She stared.
A card rested beside them.
Sadie opened it.
The carnations were evidence. These aren't. — R.C.
She turned.
Roman stood in the doorway.
“You bought me flowers?”
“No.”
“The card has your initials.”
“I instructed someone to buy them.”
“That counts.”
Roman entered.
Sadie looked at the roses.
“They're expensive.”
“You complained the others were cheap.”
“I defended them.”
“Same difference.”
Sadie smiled despite herself.
Roman watched.
Something uncomfortable happened in his chest.
He immediately disliked it.
“Don't do that.”
Sadie's smile disappeared.
“Do what?”
“Nothing.”
He walked away.
“Roman.”
He stopped.
“Thank you.”
He nodded once.
Then continued toward his study.
The next several days were strange.
Roman began appearing in rooms Sadie happened to be cleaning.
Breakfast suddenly happened in the kitchen instead of the formal dining room.
Coffee appeared at midnight.
Questions followed.
“How long have you worked here?”
“You hired me three years ago.”
“I didn't hire you.”
“Exactly.”
Another morning:
“Why do you live downstairs?”
“Because that's where staff quarters are.”
“They're terrible.”
“They belong to you.”
Roman stared at her.
“I'll have them renovated.”
Sadie put down her cleaning cloth.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because everyone will think I'm sleeping with you.”
Roman nearly choked on his coffee.
Sadie continued cleaning.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're blushing.”
“I don't blush.”
“You absolutely do.”
He left the kitchen.
Sadie laughed.
But outside the estate, the situation was becoming dangerous.
The microphone had belonged to Carlo Serrano, a rival who had spent months searching for weaknesses in Roman's security.
Vincent brought photographs into Roman's study.
“He's watching the service entrance.”
Roman examined them.
Toby.
Bakery trucks.
Household staff.
Sadie.
Roman stopped.
There were six photographs of Sadie.
His expression changed.
“When?”
“Last month.”
Roman's jaw tightened.
Vincent pointed to another.
Sadie leaving a grocery store.
Another showed her waiting for a bus.
Another showed Toby speaking to her.
Roman closed the folder.
“Move her upstairs.”
Vincent hesitated.
“She won't like that.”
“I wasn't asking.”
Roman found Sadie polishing the staircase.
“Pack your things.”
The cloth stopped.
She looked up.
“Am I fired?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“You're moving.”
“Where?”
“Second floor.”
She stared.
“That's family space.”
“Correct.”
“I’m staff.”
“Not anymore.”
Sadie slowly stood.
“What does that mean?”
Roman realized he had walked directly into a question he wasn't prepared to answer.
“It means you're safer upstairs.”
“Why am I unsafe?”
Roman handed her one photograph.
Sadie looked at it.
Her face drained of color.
“Who took this?”
“Serrano's people.”
“Why?”
“To learn my routines.”
“I'm one of your routines?”
Roman said nothing.
Sadie looked at another photograph.
Then another.
Fear crept into her expression.
Roman's voice softened.
“He can't reach you here.”
“You don't know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Because he would have to come through me.”
Sadie looked at him.
Roman was no longer the distant employer who barely knew her name.
He was standing close enough for her to see the exhaustion behind his eyes.
“Why do you care so much?”
Roman looked away.
Sadie waited.
Finally he said, “Because three years ago, everyone in this house learned to be afraid of me.”
She said nothing.
“Everyone except you.”
“I was terrified of you.”
“No.”
Roman looked at her.
“You were cautious. There's a difference.”
“You barely noticed me.”
“I noticed you.”
Sadie's breathing slowed.
Roman continued.
“I noticed you never stole anything. Never listened at doors. Never sold stories. Never asked for favors.”
“That's a low standard.”
“In my world, it's almost impossible.”
Sadie lowered the photograph.
“And the flowers?”
Roman's jaw tightened.
“What about them?”
“You hated seeing another man give me something.”
Roman didn't answer.
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
One word.
Quiet.
Unavoidable.
Sadie's eyes widened slightly.
“You were jealous.”
“Yes.”
“Of Toby?”
Roman looked annoyed.
“You don't need to keep saying his name.”
Sadie laughed.
Roman stepped closer.
“You find this funny?”
“A little.”
“I don't.”
“You run half of Long Island and you're jealous of a nineteen-year-old bakery driver.”
“He gave you flowers.”
“So?”
“I wanted to.”
Sadie's smile vanished.
Roman's voice dropped.
May you like
“I just didn't know I was allowed to.”
---
