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Chapter 2 - The Logbook Of Silenced Visits

"I haven't stopped visiting," Luca said, his voice dropping an octave as he bypassed Patricia entirely. He stepped across the Persian rug, ignoring the head maid's sharp intake of breath, and knelt directly in front of his mother's wheelchair. He dropped the bouquet of white roses onto a nearby side table with a dull thud. "Mom, look at me. I was here three days ago. I told Patricia to let you know."

Eleanor blinked slowly through her tears, her frail hand reaching out blindly until Luca caught it in his large, warm palm. "You... you weren't here, Luca. Patricia said you were traveling for the foundation. She said you were too busy for me."

Luca’s head snapped up, his dark eyes locking onto Patricia with a terrifying intensity. The air in the sunlit room dropped ten degrees. The other maids in the background shrank back against the wall, terrified of the storm gathering in their employer's face.

"Patricia," Luca said, his tone dangerously quiet. "Explain."

Patricia smoothed the front of her white apron, her composure slipping only slightly before she manufactured an expression of hurt professionalism. "Sir, you know how fragile Mrs. Vance’s memory has become lately. The doctor warned us about confusion regarding days and schedules. I only meant to shield her from the disappointment when meetings run late."

I stood silently by the window, my fingers digging into the fabric of my black dress. I had spent the last two weeks organizing the downstairs administrative desk, and during that time, I had seen something Patricia definitely didn't want anyone to find.

"That's a lie," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could censor myself.

Patricia whipped around, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Mind your place, girl. You've been here five minutes."

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"I saw the visitor logs," I pressed on, my voice steady despite the sheer panic fluttering in my chest. "And I saw the appointment schedule. Mr. Vance’s name hasn't been logged into the front gate security system for six weeks. Not because he didn't come, but because the gatehouse logs were altered, and your initials are next to every cancellation, Patricia."

Luca stood up slowly, towering over the head maid. The silence in the expansive room was absolute, broken only by the distant hum of city traffic across the water. Luca turned his gaze back to Patricia, the polite mask of the wealthy heir completely gone, replaced by the cold authority of a man who realized his own home had been turned into a prison.

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