Chapter 2 - The Access Logs
The dinner ended two agonizing hours later.
I carried the heavy silver trays back to the kitchen, my arms trembling from the sheer exhaustion of the evening.
Lily was already asleep in our small bedroom at the back of the staff quarters.
She had eaten a full plate of roasted chicken and potatoes, smiling happily the entire time.
Damian had even ordered the pastry chef to bring her a slice of chocolate cake before she left the table.
I was scrubbing the last of the copper pots when the head of security, a massive man named Marcus, walked into the kitchen.
He was carrying a digital tablet that controlled the smart locks throughout the massive estate.
"Elena, you missed a signature on the cleaning schedule for the East Wing," Marcus said, handing me the tablet.
I dried my hands on my apron and took the device, swiping through the digital logs to find my name.
As I scrolled past the restricted access section, a line of red text caught my eye.
It was a timestamp showing an entry into Damian’s private, soundproof study at seven o'clock that evening.
The name attached to the digital keycard swipe was Selene Vale.
I frowned, staring at the glowing screen in confusion.
"Marcus, is this right?" I asked, pointing to the red text.
"Miss Vale told Mr. Bellucci she was in the conservatory making phone calls before dinner."
Marcus leaned over my shoulder, his heavy brow furrowing in suspicion.
"She swore she never went near the East Wing tonight," he muttered.
The private study was the one room in the house that was strictly off-limits to everyone, including the fiancée.
It was where Damian kept his sensitive corporate documents, his encrypted laptops, and the physical ledgers from his father's older, darker businesses.
I handed the tablet back to Marcus, a cold knot forming in the pit of my stomach.
"Why would she lie about being in his office?" I whispered.
Marcus did not answer immediately.
He tapped the screen, pulling up the hidden camera feed for the East Wing hallway.
We watched the silent, black-and-white footage play back on the small screen.
Selene appeared in the frame, looking nervously over her shoulder before slipping her keycard into the study door.
She carried a small, flat leather briefcase that I had not seen her holding earlier in the day.
She emerged ten minutes later, the briefcase looking visibly thicker.
"She is stealing from him," Marcus said softly, his voice tight with disbelief.
"The woman is weeks away from marrying a billionaire, and she is stealing his private files."
I looked toward the main house, where the remaining guests were drinking expensive scotch in the drawing room.
"What are you going to do?" I asked the security chief.
"I have to tell the boss," Marcus replied grimly.
"But I need to verify exactly what she took before I walk into a room and accuse his future wife of corporate espionage."
He looked at me, his eyes dead serious.
"You need to keep your head down, Elena."
"Selene was already looking for an excuse to fire you tonight."
May you like
"If she finds out you saw this log, she will destroy you."
I nodded slowly, realizing that my daughter and I had just been dragged into a very dangerous game.
