Chapter 1 - The Woman Who Changed His Mansion
I stood in the middle of the foyer holding a fireplace poker, whispering: "Don't move."
When mafia boss Dominic Caruso entered his mansion, he found the broken antique frame I had removed from the wall. Behind it was a small handwritten note: "Never let him find the room."
Dominic suddenly realized someone had been searching for the secret his family buried.
The first thing I noticed about Dominic Caruso was that he didn't look like a man who expected anyone to challenge him.
Most people would have frozen if they saw him walking through those massive wooden doors.
I didn't.
Not because I was brave.
Because I thought he was a stranger breaking into a house I was supposed to protect.
The fireplace poker felt heavier in my hands than it had five seconds earlier.
My heart was beating so loudly that I could barely hear anything else.
The man standing across from me wore a black suit that looked expensive enough to pay for my entire apartment.
His dark hair was slightly messy, like he had been running his hands through it during a long night.
His face was calm.
Too calm.
Behind him stood another man wearing a black suit, watching every movement I made.
A bodyguard.
That was the moment I realized I might have made a terrible mistake.
But I still didn't lower the poker.
Because I had spent the last three weeks inside that mansion.
I had cleaned every room.
I had organized every shelf.
I had moved every piece of furniture because the previous housekeeper left suddenly and the family needed someone to prepare the property before the owner returned.
Nobody told me the owner would return without warning.
Nobody told me Dominic Caruso was the owner.
And nobody told me he was the kind of man people whispered about.
"I asked you a question," the man said.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
"Who are you?"
I swallowed.
"My name is Clara Bennett."
My hands tightened around the poker.
"I work here."
The man's eyes moved from my face to the weapon.
Then back to me.
"You work here?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
A strange silence filled the foyer.
The kind of silence where everyone was waiting for someone else to make the next move.
Finally, the man behind Dominic stepped forward.
"Boss, should I—"
"No."
Dominic stopped him with one word.
Boss.
The word hit me harder than anything else.
Because suddenly the rumors I had heard from the neighbors made sense.
The mysterious owner.
The powerful businessman.
The man nobody wanted to cross.
Dominic Caruso.
The name alone carried fear.
But instead of being angry, Dominic looked around the foyer.
That confused me.
I expected him to be furious.
I expected him to demand that I leave.
Instead, his eyes moved across the room.
The large marble table near the staircase.
The old family paintings.
The antique chairs.
The empty space on the left wall.
And then he looked back at me.
"What did you change?"
I blinked.
"What?"
"The house."
His expression became sharper.
"You moved things."
I slowly lowered the poker.
Only slightly.
"I organized the rooms."
"Why?"
I hesitated.
Because nobody had ever asked me that.
Usually people just told me what to clean.
"I thought the layout didn't make sense."
Dominic stared at me.
"It didn't make sense?"
I nodded.
"The furniture placement was strange. Some rooms looked like nobody had entered them for years."
The bodyguard looked at Dominic.
Something passed between them.
A silent conversation.
I noticed.
And that made me nervous.
"What?" I asked.
Neither man answered.
Dominic walked deeper into the foyer.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like he was seeing his own home for the first time.
He stopped near the staircase.
His eyes moved toward the wall where an old portrait used to hang.
Except the portrait was gone.
I remembered that painting.
A serious-looking man.
A woman beside him.
A young boy standing between them.
I had removed it because the frame was damaged.
I thought it needed repair.
I didn't know it was important.
Dominic walked toward the empty space.
"When did you remove this?"
I felt a cold feeling in my stomach.
"About two days ago."
"Where is it?"
"In the storage room."
His jaw tightened.
"Why?"
"Because the frame was broken."
For the first time, Dominic looked genuinely surprised.
Not angry.
Surprised.
"Show me."
I followed him.
The bodyguard stayed close behind.
We walked through the mansion halls until we reached the storage room.
The old portrait was leaning against the wall.
Dominic stared at it.
His expression changed.
Almost like he was seeing a ghost.
"What is it?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
He touched the damaged corner of the frame.
Then he looked at me.
"Did you notice anything unusual?"
I frowned.
"About the painting?"
"No."
He pointed toward the back of the frame.
"About this."
I walked closer.
I had not looked there before.
Dominic turned the portrait around.
A small piece of paper had been attached to the wooden frame.
My breath stopped.
Because I knew that paper wasn't there when I moved it.
Or at least...
I didn't remember seeing it.
Dominic removed it carefully.
His eyes scanned the handwriting.
The color disappeared from his face.
"What does it say?" I asked.
He folded the paper immediately.
"Nothing."
I knew that was a lie.
People didn't react like that to nothing.
Before I could ask again, Dominic walked back toward the foyer.
Fast.
Almost urgently.
I followed him.
"Mr. Caruso, what is happening?"
He stopped near the empty wall.
Then he pressed his hand against the wooden panel beneath where the portrait had been hanging.
I watched his expression change.
Confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then anger.
"What?"
I stepped closer.
"What is it?"
He knocked against the wall.
Once.
Twice.
The sound changed.
Not solid.
Hollow.
The entire room became silent.
The bodyguard looked shocked.
"Boss..."
Dominic ignored him.
He ran his fingers along the wall.
Searching.
Looking for something hidden.
I suddenly understood.
The missing portrait wasn't the important thing.
The wall behind it was.
"I didn't know," I whispered.
Dominic looked at me.
"You moved the only thing hiding this."
I felt a chill.
"Why would someone hide a wall?"
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Or because he didn't want to tell me.
Then he noticed something else.
A small scratch near the bottom of the wooden panel.
Fresh.
Recent.
His eyes narrowed.
Someone had been here.
Someone had tried to open it.
But before he could say anything, the lights in the foyer flickered.
The bodyguard immediately reached inside his jacket.
Dominic turned toward the staircase.
A sound came from above.
A slow step.
Then another.
Someone was walking inside the mansion.
But we were the only people supposed to be there.
Dominic looked at me.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Who else has been in this house?"
I opened my mouth.
But before I could answer, a woman's voice came from the darkness upstairs.
"Clara..."
My blood turned cold.
Because I had never told anyone my name.
The figure stepped closer.
And Dominic whispered:
May you like
"That room was never supposed to be found."
Then the hidden door behind the wall slowly began to open.
