Chapter Two: Thorns Beneath the Silk

The next morning arrived grey and slow. Rain tapped lightly against the high windows of the mansion, and a dull silence pressed down on everything like a heavy curtain. Rosie woke early, her room barely lit by the dull city sky.

She sat on the edge of the neatly made bed, pulling her coat tighter around her. The guest quarters where the staff stayed were simple but clean—small rooms lined along a narrow hallway at the back of the house. It was far from luxury, but it was more than she was used to. Still, the air felt different here. Strange. As if even the walls whispered warnings.

Her mother had already left for the day’s chores. Rosie found a note on the nightstand in Maria’s familiar handwriting: Start with the linens in the east wing. Avoid the study. And please—be careful.

Rosie blinked at the last words. Be careful? Of what?

She tied her hair up and made her way down the back stairs with quiet steps. The house was still waking. She passed other staff members—maids, a cook, even a quiet gardener—but they didn’t say much beyond brief nods. There was something strange about them too. Not fear, exactly… but restraint. Like they had all learned not to speak freely within these walls.

By late morning, Rosie was carrying fresh linens toward the east wing when she took a wrong turn. The hallway here was different—darker, older. Paintings lined the walls: portraits of stern-faced men and women, all with the same cold eyes. De Lucas, she assumed. Legacy and blood.

Then she heard it—low voices, coming from behind a slightly ajar door. She paused instinctively. Not to eavesdrop, but because something in the tone made her skin prickle.

“We’ve got a rat in the south dock. Clean it up before Luca finds out.”

“Already handled,” another voice replied. “But the girl… the maid’s daughter. She’s new. Should we be worried?”

Rosie’s heart stopped.

“I don’t trust anyone new,” the first voice said. “Especially not ones who ask questions.”

A chill climbed her spine. She backed away carefully, nearly dropping the linen bundle. Her thoughts raced. What had she stepped into?

Back in the safer corridors of the east wing, Rosie finally let herself breathe. Whatever this house was hiding, it was bigger than wealth. Bigger than status. The De Lucas didn’t just hold power—they ruled something darker. And she’d just walked right into the center of it.

Hours later, while clearing tea from one of the smaller parlors, Rosie heard that same cold voice from the day before.

“Rosalie.”

She turned sharply. Luca De Luca stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching her like a puzzle he didn’t quite understand.

“Yes, sir?” she replied, careful to sound respectful but not afraid.

“I was told you wandered near the study this morning.”

Her heart skipped. “I was lost, sir. It won’t happen again.”

He stepped closer. “This house has rules. Some doors stay closed for a reason.”

Rosie nodded, holding her ground even as his presence filled the room like a storm cloud. “Understood.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Just watched her. There was a flicker in his expression—barely noticeable. Curiosity, maybe. Or calculation. Then it vanished.

“Stick to the quarters you’re assigned. Do your job. Stay quiet.”

And with that, he was gone.

Rosie let out a slow breath, her fingers trembling slightly around the silver tray.

She had just been warned.

But something inside her refused to shrink.

She didn’t know who Luca De Luca really was—not yet. But if this house was full of secrets, she would learn them. Slowly, carefully. Because she had just realized something important.

She wasn’t just here to help her mother anymore.

She wanted to understand why a man like him—cold, powerful, and unreadable—was so afraid of a girl like her.

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