Chapter 1 - The Man Who Had Everything Except Time
A maid stood beside a dying man's bed, refusing to hold his hand: "Please don't ask me that."
When crime boss Luca Varelli opened his drawer, he revealed a small cotton pouch he had secretly tested. But three words were stitched inside: "Made for Mara."
Luca suddenly realized his illness was not what everyone told him.
Mara Collins had learned one important rule during her seventeen months working inside the Varelli mansion.
Never forget who you are standing beside.
It was a rule she repeated every morning before entering Luca Varelli's bedroom.
Not because she was afraid of him.
Because everyone else was.
The mansion staff moved differently when Luca was nearby. Conversations stopped when he entered a hallway. People lowered their eyes. Even the lawyers and executives who visited him spoke carefully, as if one wrong sentence could destroy their entire lives.
Luca Varelli had built an empire before he turned thirty-six.
His companies owned shipping warehouses along the Chicago waterfront, luxury restaurants downtown, construction projects across the city, and businesses that people never discussed openly.
To strangers, he was a successful businessman.
To those who knew him, he was a man whose name carried power.
But Mara never saw that man.
She saw someone who struggled to climb three steps without stopping.
She saw someone whose expensive suits were replaced by simple black shirts because his body could no longer handle anything uncomfortable.
She saw a man who had everything money could buy but could not buy another healthy morning.
Six months ago, Luca had been unstoppable.
Then his health began to disappear.
At first, everyone blamed stress.
Then doctors blamed genetics.
Then they blamed everything except the possibility that someone had done this to him.
Mara never asked questions.
That was how people survived in houses like this.
But she noticed things.
She noticed that Luca slept better whenever she cleaned his room.
She noticed his headaches became worse after certain visitors arrived.
She noticed the strange smell that filled his bedroom every night.
And she noticed that nobody else seemed interested.
On the night everything changed, rain covered the mansion windows while Mara polished the silver decorations near his fireplace.
Luca watched her from the bed.
"You always avoid looking at me," he said.
Mara continued cleaning.
"I look at what needs to be cleaned."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
The old Luca would have been angry.
The sick Luca looked almost amused.
"You are the only person here who talks to me like that."
"Maybe everyone else is afraid of losing their jobs."
"Maybe."
She placed the silver object back on the table.
"Your tea is getting cold."
"I didn't ask for tea."
"You asked Mrs. Vale to send someone here."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Luca looked toward the open door.
Then back at her.
"Because I wanted you."
The room became quiet.
Mara stopped moving.
Not because she was flattered.
Because she understood exactly what powerful men often believed.
That everything had a price.
"I should finish cleaning."
"Mara."
She ignored him.
Then he said the sentence she never expected.
"Would you let me hold you?"
The cloth slipped from her fingers.
For several seconds, she stared at him.
This was Luca Varelli.
The man who could make people disappear from business deals with one phone call.
The man whose employees never questioned his orders.
And now he was asking a maid for something money could not buy.
"No."
The answer came quickly.
His expression changed.
Not anger.
Pain.
"I am dying."
"That doesn't mean I belong to you."
Those words stayed between them.
Luca looked away.
For the first time, Mara saw something beneath the reputation.
Not a criminal.
Not a powerful businessman.
Just a tired man who was afraid.
She picked up the cloth and continued cleaning.
Then Luca opened the drawer beside his bed.
Mara noticed immediately.
Because Luca never opened that drawer when anyone was around.
He removed a small cotton pouch.
Her heart stopped.
She recognized it.
Four weeks earlier, she had lost it while cleaning.
A small handmade sachet her grandmother had given her.
"You kept that?"
"I had it tested."
Mara turned around.
"You what?"
"I wanted to know what was inside."
"You sent my personal item to a laboratory?"
"I needed answers."
The words sounded strange coming from him.
A man who controlled everything.
A man who was now searching for answers.
"What did they find?"
"Orange peel. Cedar. Lavender."
He paused.
"Nothing harmful."
Mara stared at him.
"Then why keep it?"
Luca looked at the pouch.
"Because every night I couldn't breathe, you were the only person who made the room feel normal."
She did not know what to say.
Then she noticed something.
The blue thread on the pouch.
It was not the same as before.
Someone had opened it.
Someone had resewn it.
Mara walked closer.
"Who touched this?"
Luca looked confused.
"What?"
"Someone opened this pouch."
Silence.
Luca looked down.
The weakness disappeared from his face.
The old Luca returned.
"Who else knew about it?"
Mara looked around the room.
The diffuser on the fireplace.
The sealed windows.
The damaged wallpaper she had noticed weeks ago.
Something was wrong.
She walked toward the wall behind his bed.
Luca watched her.
"What are you doing?"
Mara placed her hand against the wallpaper.
The surface was slightly raised.
Cold.
Too cold.
"Who repaired this wall?"
Luca frowned.
"What wall?"
May you like
Mara slowly turned toward him.
And before she could answer, the hidden panel behind the wallpaper suddenly moved from the inside...
