Page 62 of Blood Debt

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Cristofano’s face flashes in my mind—his mouth on my skin, his voice in the dark, the sound of him when I touched him.

I clench my jaw.

“One night,” I mutter. “That’s all it was.”

I rise.

Straighten my uniform. Tuck my hair back into its clean, neat twist.

And step back into the hallway.

There’s linen to count. Schedules to check. Orders to give.

Because I’m the head maid of Bellarosa Estate.

And no one can know what I just did.

****

I work till it’s late.

My shoes are off, apron folded neatly on the stool by the door. I’ve just reached for the light switch when the knock comes—firm, too steady for a guard.

My heart jolts.

I open the door.

Matteo stands there, calm as ever. Hands in his pockets. Shirt sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows.

“The Don wants you,” he says.

My stomach drops.

“I—I didn’t know I was still needed—”

“He didn’t ask.”

He turns and starts walking.

I close the door behind me slowly, silently.

My legs feel cold under my skirt as I follow him down the hall.

Does he know that I stole from him? Did he happen to see me?

No. No, there weren’t cameras in the study. I was careful. I checked twice.

Still…my palm hovers near the inside of my skirt pocket, where my emergency signal button sits tucked under a false seam. One press. That’s all it would take.

One press and Tony would pull me out.

I hesitate. But I keep walking.

This…this is how Isla must have felt. That final night. When she realized something was off, but didn’t run fast enough.

Matteo says nothing as we climb the last flight of stairs. Just leads me to Cristofano’s private wing. He stops at the door and gestures with a chin nod.

I inhale through my nose, slow and shallow.

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