Chapter 6: Morning Table Tension
Marcus’s footsteps stopped right outside the swinging kitchen door, the heavy leather soles of his shoes squeaking slightly against the polished tile floor. Elena’s hand remained clamped onto my forearm, her fingers trembling slightly before she pulled away and smoothed down the front of her red silk dress. I forced my expression into a blank, deferential mask, dipping my chin toward the floor just as the door pushed open. Marcus stood there in his charcoal-grey suit, adjusting his silk tie with one hand while his sharp, calculating eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail of our posture.
"Elena," Marcus said, his voice dropping into that smooth, practiced cadence he used for board meetings and television interviews. "I thought I told you to wait for me in the dining room. Why are you down here in the service quarters?"
"I wanted a glass of sparkling water, Marcus," Elena replied, her voice remarkably steady despite the pale tension in her cheeks. "The upstairs pitcher was empty."
Marcus didn't look convinced. He took two slow steps into the kitchen, his gaze shifting from Elena to me, lingering on the pristine white collar of my shirt. The silence stretched thin and tight, heavy with the unspoken knowledge of what lay hidden behind the library wall upstairs. I kept my breathing slow and even, remembering the silver key currently resting safely deep within the hidden inner pocket of my black skirt.
"The kitchen staff can handle water," Marcus said coldly, stepping closer to his wife and placing a heavy, possessive hand on the small of her back. The gesture looked like a display of affection to an outsider, but I saw the way Elena’s spine stiffened under his palm. "Let’s go. Breakfast is getting cold, and we have guests arriving by noon for the foundation preview."
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He guided her toward the dining hall, pausing at the threshold to shoot me one last narrow, measuring look. "Aria, make sure the guest rooms on the second floor are thoroughly aired out. And don't wander where you shouldn't."
Once the swinging door fluttered shut behind them, I let out a long, quiet breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. The immediate danger had passed, but the clock was ticking down faster than we had anticipated. Elena’s compliance at the breakfast table was a necessary performance, but it proved how tightly Marcus held his grip on her. I grabbed a silver serving tray from the counter and headed up the service stairs, my mind racing through the logistics of our next move. We couldn't wait weeks for an opening; Marcus was already suspicious. If we didn't extract those financial records tonight during the charity preview, we might never get another chance.
