Chapter 7 - The Woman Behind the Secret
For the first time in my life, I understood what it felt like to be watched.
Not noticed.
Not seen.
Watched.
There was a difference.
Being noticed meant someone remembered your name.
Being seen meant someone understood you.
But being watched meant someone was waiting for you to make a mistake.
The photograph remained on the security office table long after Roman ordered everyone out.
Nobody touched it.
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone in that room understood what it meant.
Someone had been inside the estate.
Someone had access.
Someone had been close enough to follow my movements without me knowing.
And the worst part was not the picture itself.
It was the message written behind it.
She is yours now.
I stared at those words until they blurred.
I hated that they affected me.
I hated that my first thought was not about myself.
It was about Roman.
Because whoever sent that message knew something.
They knew Roman Moretti cared enough to react.
And somehow, that was more frightening than anything else.
Roman stood across the room, silent.
The security monitors reflected in his eyes.
Broken footage.
Missing records.
A hidden enemy.
Everything he built was based on control.
And someone had reached into the center of it.
I looked at him.
“Roman.”
He didn’t answer.
“Roman.”
This time, his eyes moved toward me.
“What?”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“What are you going to do?”
The question hung between us.
Everyone else would have asked who did it.
Who was responsible.
Who should pay.
But I already knew Roman would find those answers.
What I wanted to know was something else.
What would he do now that they had involved me?
His expression hardened slightly.
“First, I find out who entered this room.”
“And then?”
A pause.
“Then I make sure they never enter anywhere again.”
The coldness in his voice made me shiver.
Not because I thought he would hurt me.
Because I finally understood why people feared him.
Roman Moretti was not dangerous because he enjoyed power.
He was dangerous because when something threatened the people under his protection, he became impossible to stop.
“Don’t do anything reckless,” I said.
His eyes narrowed.
“You’re telling me that?”
“Yes.”
“You ran outside alone in the middle of the night to help your brother.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
Because I didn’t have an answer.
Roman stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Just close enough that I could see the exhaustion hidden beneath his controlled expression.
“You think I don’t understand why you did it?”
I looked away.
“Because he’s my brother.”
“Exactly.”
The word was quiet.
“You risked everything because someone you love needed help.”
My heartbeat changed slightly.
Because he wasn’t criticizing me.
He was recognizing me.
“You would have done the same,” I whispered.
Roman became still.
For a moment, I thought he would deny it.
He didn’t.
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised me.
“You admit that?”
“Yes.”
His eyes moved toward the photograph.
“People think power means you stop caring.”
A pause.
“They’re wrong.”
The room felt different after that.
Less like an interrogation.
More like two people admitting things they usually kept hidden.
Then the door opened.
Marco stepped inside.
The moment I saw him, my body reacted.
Suspicion.
Not because I wanted it to.
Because Roman’s earlier words stayed in my mind.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
Someone inside.
Marco noticed my expression.
His face changed.
“Is something wrong?”
Roman looked at him.
“Where were you?”
The question was simple.
But the atmosphere changed instantly.
Marco frowned.
“I was checking the east perimeter.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
Roman studied him.
For several seconds.
Too many seconds.
Marco shifted slightly.
“Mr. Moretti?”
“Five days ago,” Roman said. “Who authorized the greenhouse camera shutdown?”
Marco’s expression tightened.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Answer the question.”
Silence.
I watched carefully.
Because this was the man who had stood beside Roman.
The man who helped protect the estate.
The man who looked completely normal.
But then again...
So did everyone.
“Maintenance requested it,” Marco finally answered.
Roman’s eyes sharpened.
“Name.”
Marco hesitated.
Only for a moment.
But Roman noticed.
“Name.”
“I don’t remember.”
The room went cold.
Because Roman Moretti knew everything.
He remembered names.
Dates.
Details.
And so did Marco.
“You don’t remember?” Roman repeated.
Marco looked uncomfortable.
“I’ll check the records.”
“You already should have.”
The tension between them was impossible to ignore.
I looked at Roman.
He was not accusing Marco.
Not yet.
But he was no longer trusting him.
And that was perhaps worse.
“Everyone leaves,” Roman said.
Marco looked surprised.
“Mr. Moretti—”
“Now.”
One by one, everyone left.
Until only Roman and I remained.
I looked at him.
“You think it’s him.”
Roman looked at the door.
“I think anyone can be him.”
“That’s a terrible way to live.”
“Yes.”
The answer was immediate.
No denial.
No excuse.
Just acceptance.
I sat down slowly.
The weight of everything finally reached me.
My brother was safe.
But the danger wasn’t gone.
The person behind this was still out there.
And somehow, I had become the center of their plan.
“I want to help.”
Roman looked at me.
“No.”
I sighed.
“You don’t even think about it?”
“I already did.”
“And?”
“No.”
I crossed my arms.
“You’re impossible.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
A small silence followed.
Then Roman did something unexpected.
He sat across from me.
Not behind his desk.
Not standing above me.
Across.
Equal.
“What do you remember about tonight?”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Everything.”
I thought back.
The rain.
The greenhouse.
The phone.
The path.
The darkness.
“I left my room around midnight.”
“Why that route?”
“Because it was faster.”
“Who knew you used it?”
I hesitated.
“Nobody.”
Roman watched me.
“Think.”
I closed my eyes.
Then slowly opened them.
“Ambra knew.”
The name changed the room.
Again.
“Why?”
“Because she saw me come back late one night.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
Roman’s expression changed slightly.
“What did she say?”
I remembered.
Ambra had smiled.
She had asked if I was okay.
She had told me not to work too hard.
At the time, it felt kind.
Now...
I didn’t know what it felt like.
“I don’t know.”
Roman leaned back.
“Norah.”
“I don’t know.”
My voice became quieter.
“Because I don’t want to believe everyone is dangerous.”
For the first time, Roman’s expression softened.
“You’re different.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Most people who enter my world become suspicious of everyone.”
“And I don’t?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You keep looking for reasons people are innocent.”
I didn’t know whether that was a compliment.
Or a warning.
“Maybe that’s a weakness.”
Roman shook his head.
“No.”
The answer was firm.
“It’s why people trust you.”
The words stayed with me.
Because Roman Moretti trusted almost nobody.
But he had just told me why others trusted me.
A sound interrupted us.
A phone ringing.
Not Roman’s.
Mine.
My blood went cold.
The prepaid phone.
The one Ben had used.
The one that started everything.
I looked at the screen.
Unknown number.
Roman immediately stood.
“Don’t answer.”
I stared at it.
The phone continued ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then a message appeared.
A single sentence.
Ask Roman who really brought you into this house.
My breathing stopped.
I looked at Roman.
His expression changed.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“You know something.”
A long silence followed.
Then Roman walked toward me.
Slowly.
Carefully.
“Norah.”
His voice was different.
Not the voice of a boss.
Not the voice of a powerful man.
The voice of someone preparing to reveal something painful.
“What?”
He looked at the message.
Then at me.
“The reason you were hired eight months ago…”
A pause.
“…was not because the estate needed a maid.”
My heart started beating faster.
“What are you saying?”
Roman’s eyes met mine.
“Someone put you here.”
The room became completely silent.
“Who?”
Roman didn’t answer immediately.
And that scared me more than anything.
Because Roman Moretti always had answers.
But this time...
He looked like a man who had just discovered the one secret he never wanted to uncover.
Finally, he whispered:
May you like
“I think I know who.”
And the name he was about to say would change everything.
