LOGINHe leans forward, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial, deeply unsettling whisper as he stares directly into my green contact lenses. "In fact... you don't have to be a maid at all, Candy. I can make all of this manual labor disappear with a single phone call. If you can just agree to be my pri
"Look, Naomi, if Dennise catches you in here, she’s going to—" The distinct, heavy sound of the deadbolt locking echoes through the quiet kitchen. My entire body goes completely rigid. My instincts scream at me, a cold shock of adrenaline instantly shooting straight to my fingertips. That isn't th
I smooth down the front of my oversized, scratchy maid uniform, my fingers tracing the small bruise on my chest from where Caroline's finger violently ripped my dress open at the cemetery yesterday. My skin still feels raw from the humiliation, my eyes are burning from crying all night over Owen, a
The striking, facial structure. Sydney is an absolute, undeniable replica of the woman in the vintage photograph—Tobias’s mother. The almost psychotic protectiveness Tobias has shown toward Sydney from the very first moment he met her. The massive financial safety nets he threw under her, the fact
Before I can even open my mouth to apologize for breaking into his house, Tobias speaks. His voice is incredibly quiet, completely devoid of its usual sharp authority, yet it carries a heavy, haunting weight that pins me right to the carpet. "For years..." he murmurs, his finger continuing its slow
I stand frozen on the gravel path, the engine of Sydney’s departing car roaring in my ears. I watch the taillights of her vehicle bounce over the cemetery threshold, disappearing completely from sight, and with every inch of distance she puts between us, my heart shatters into a million jagged, irre
I watch the two of them disappear into the hallway, and the house settles into that heavy silence, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering scent of the tea Caroline made. I take a breath, shaking off the tension in my shoulders and remind myself what I actually came here to do. I move
"You're in the city, but you never come to see me? You're like a ghost. A handsome and intelligent ghost, my son is." Mother’s voice rings out before I even reach the parlor. She’s sitting in her favorite wingback chair, looking as calm as she always does, though the grief lines from crying over my
"Finally." I feel like a thief...or maybe a detective. Or maybe just a man who is about to have his entire world shifted on its axis. In my hand, I’m clutching a crumpled tissue I dug out of my office bin. Why? Well... because it's smudged with Sydney's blood. I was looking for a hair sample, a
The heavy doors to my office creak open, and for a second, I consider firing Miller again. I specifically told him I was in a meeting, which is corporate speak for 'I’m staring at my reflection in a glass of Scotch and wondering how my life became a tabloid headline.' But it’s not Miller. Owen s







