Chapter 5 - Blood and Betrayal
The silence in the small staff room grew so profound that the ticking of a cheap plastic clock on the nightstand sounded like a sledgehammer striking stone.
Dominic didn't move. He didn't interrupt. He simply digested the revelation with the cold, methodical efficiency of a man accustomed to betrayal.
“Your uncle,” Dominic repeated, the words tasting like ash. “Arthur Vance—the man who spent twelve years managing my properties and just tried to kill my son—is your uncle.”
“Yes,” Sophia whispered, sinking back down into the wooden chair because her knees could no longer support her weight. She reached out with trembling fingers and touched the silver pocket watch resting on her notebook, tracing the engraved sailing ship with her thumb. “My father died when I was twelve. Uncle Arthur took me in, paid for my schooling, and eventually helped me secure a position here at the estate six years ago when I lost my husband.”
“And you hid it,” Dominic stated, his voice flat. “You lied on your employment application. You concealed your familial relationship to my head of administration from day one.”
“If I had told you the truth, you never would have hired me,” Sophia said, her voice rising with a defensive, desperate edge. “You have a strict policy against employing relatives of senior staff members—conflict of interest rules, security protocols, the exact kind of paranoia that keeps this fortress running! I needed this job, Mr. Moretti. My husband died with nothing but debts, and I had a baby girl to feed. I couldn't afford to be rejected because of who my uncle was.”
“So you lied,” Dominic said coldly. “You lived under a false pretense inside my home for six years. How deep does the deception go, Sophia? Did you know about the Caliris? Did you know what Arthur was planning to do to my son?”
“No!” Sophia cried out, her voice cracking with raw, unadulterated agony. She stood up so fast her chair crashed against the wall, her hands flying to her face as she sobbed openly. “No, I swear to God, Dominic—Mr. Moretti! I knew nothing about the Caliris! I didn't know he was stealing from you, I didn't know he was working with the syndicates, and I would have died before letting anyone hurt Ethan!”
She dropped to her knees right there on the hardwood floor, clutching the edge of her skirt just as Lily had done in the ballroom twenty-four hours earlier.
“Uncle Arthur was… he was like a father to me once,” she choked out through her tears. “But over the last two years, he changed. He started gambling, mixing with men from the city, talking about how your empire was built on stolen ground and how you didn't appreciate the people who did the real work behind the scenes. I tried to warn him. I told him to stay away from those men. But he wouldn't listen. When I saw him sneaking around the service corridor before the party yesterday evening, I thought… I thought he was just stealing another bottle of vintage wine from the cellar like he used to do when he was drunk. I never, never imagined he would touch the food.”
Dominic stood over her, his dark eyes studying her face line by line, looking for the micro-expressions of a practiced liar. He had interrogated FBI agents, corrupt politicians, and syndicate hitmen. He knew how to read human deceit down to the twitch of a muscle or the dilation of a pupil.
And what he saw in Sophia’s tear-stained face was absolute, shattering truth.
She was terrified, she was guilty of lying about her past, and she was fiercely, desperately protective of her daughter—but she was not a murderer. She was a collateral casualty of her uncle’s greed.
Dominic reached down, gripped Sophia by the elbow, and hauled her back to her feet with effortless strength, setting her upright.
“Wipe your face,” he said, his voice hard, though the lethal edge had softened just a fraction.
Sophia sniffled, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her blouse, staring at him with fearful anticipation.
“You lied on my paperwork,” Dominic said, holding up a finger. “You concealed a familial relationship with a high-level employee. For ordinary infractions like that, my staff usually find themselves packing their bags before the sun rises.”
Sophia closed her eyes, bracing for the blow.
“However,” Dominic continued, his voice dropping into a steady, authoritative register, “your daughter saved my son’s life. And your testimony confirms that Arthur acted alone, driven by greed and bitterness, rather than an institutional infiltration of my household staff.”
He picked up the silver pocket watch from the desk and slipped it into his own vest pocket.
“You will stay here,” Dominic commanded. “You will continue your duties as head housekeeper. But starting tomorrow morning, your security clearance is elevated, and you report directly to me regarding any unusual activity in the west wing or the service annex. Do I make myself clear?”
Sophia stared at him in stunned disbelief. “You… you’re not firing me? You’re not throwing us out?”
May you like
“If I throw you out, who is going to keep this sprawling circus running?” Dominic asked dryly, turning toward the door. He paused with his hand on the brass knob, looking back over his shoulder. “Besides, Ethan enjoys playing chess with Lily. And I don't like disappointing my son.”
He pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway, leaving Sophia standing alone in the quiet room, her heart hammering against her ribs like a captive bird that had just been handed back the key to the sky.
