Chapter 2 - The Maid Who Didn’t Flinch
Two weeks passed.
Vivien visited less.
Hannah visited more.
Every morning, Damian became the helpless boss in the wheelchair.
Every night, after Carlo locked the doors, Damian stood.
He stretched.
Walked.
Exercised.
Then returned to the chair before sunrise.
It was exhausting.
One afternoon Hannah was shaving his jaw.
“Hold still.”
“I am holding still.”
“You're glaring.”
“My face does that.”
“It makes shaving difficult.”
Damian glanced at her.
“Most employees don't criticize me while holding a razor.”
“Most employees probably don't want your jaw uneven.”
He almost laughed.
Almost.
“Why do you work here?”
“Money.”
“That's refreshingly uncomplicated.”
“Rent tends to be.”
“What happened to your leg?”
Her hand stopped.
Damian had noticed her slight limp.
“Old accident.”
“What kind?”
“The kind I don't discuss with employers.”
“Fair.”
She continued shaving.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I like knowing who enters my bedroom.”
“I clean your bedroom.”
“You also feed me.”
“Because you keep firing nurses.”
“They're annoying.”
“One of them asked whether you wanted your pillow adjusted.”
“Exactly.”
Hannah stared at him.
“That monster.”
Damian finally laughed.
She smiled despite herself.
Then the bedroom doors suddenly flew open.
A broad man marched inside.
Bruno Veain.
Damian’s smile vanished.
Hannah immediately stepped away.
Bruno looked at Damian in the wheelchair.
“So it's true.”
“Good afternoon to you too.”
Bruno laughed.
“I remember when people were afraid to enter this room.”
“They still should be.”
Bruno walked closer.
“Carlo isn't here.”
“I noticed.”
“I've got sixty men at the docks waiting for payment.”
“You have thirty-eight.”
Bruno stopped.
Damian continued calmly.
“Seven are working nights elsewhere. Four disappeared after you cut their percentages. Eleven don't actually exist, although you've been billing me for them for eight months.”
Bruno's face changed.
Hannah glanced at Damian.
Bruno leaned forward.
“You're sitting in a chair and still think you're running things?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe that's the problem.”
Hannah stepped between them.
“Mr. Russo needs rest.”
Bruno stared at her.
“Who asked the maid?”
“Nobody.”
“Then move.”
“No.”
Damian's eyes sharpened.
Bruno laughed.
“You're protecting him?”
“I'm asking you to leave his room.”
Bruno reached toward the wheelchair.
Hannah immediately caught the chair handles and pulled Damian backward.
“Don't touch him.”
Bruno stared at her.
Damian spoke quietly.
“Bruno.”
“What?”
“Leave.”
“And if I don't?”
Damian couldn't stand.
Not yet.
Revealing the truth to Bruno would destroy the entire operation before Carlo had identified everyone conspiring against him.
So Damian smiled.
“Then you discover whether my legs were ever the dangerous part of me.”
Bruno's smile disappeared.
Footsteps sounded outside.
Two guards appeared.
Bruno backed away.
“This isn't finished.”
“No,” Damian said. “It isn't.”
Bruno left.
Hannah closed the doors.
Then she turned.
“You need better security.”
Damian blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“He walked directly upstairs.”
“I own several hundred million dollars of security infrastructure.”
“And yet Bruno got into your bedroom.”
Damian stared at her.
“Are you lecturing me?”
“Yes.”
“People usually regret doing that.”
“Then fire me tomorrow.”
She picked up the water pitcher.
Damian watched her.
“Hannah.”
“What?”
“Why did you stand between us?”
She looked genuinely confused.
“Because you couldn't.”
That answer hit harder than Damian expected.
Not because she believed him weak.
Because she had seen someone vulnerable and moved before calculating what it might cost her.
That night, Carlo returned.
“We confirmed it,” Carlo said. “Bruno's working with Vivien.”
Damian looked toward the closed bedroom door.
“How many others?”
“Three capos.”
“Then we're close.”
Carlo noticed his expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You're thinking about the maid.”
Damian looked at him.
Carlo raised both hands.
“I'll go now.”
May you like
“Excellent decision.”
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