Chapter 4 - The Hidden Desk Drawer
The staff quarters downstairs were cramped, smelling faintly of commercial bleach and old linen. Most of the other maids avoided me when I walked down for my evening break, their whispers stopping abruptly whenever I entered the room. They viewed me as an ambitious interloper who had upset the delicate ecosystem of the mansion. I ignored them, making my way directly to the shared administrative desk that Patricia had occupied for over a decade.
Luca had given me temporary authorization to secure the records, but I knew Patricia wouldn't leave her most sensitive files lying out in the open. I checked the top drawers—mostly mundane supply orders, catering invoices, and maintenance logs. Nothing out of the ordinary. But as my fingers brushed the underside of the wooden desktop, I felt a slight unevenness in the grain.
A false bottom.
Using the corner of a metal staple remover, I pried upward gently. The thin panel of wood lifted with a soft click, revealing a hidden compartment tucked away in the shadows. Inside sat a thick stack of heavy linen envelopes, bound together with a red rubber band, and a ledger bound in black leather.
I pulled the bundle out into the dim light of the desk lamp. The topmost envelope bore Luca’s handwriting, addressed to his mother, marked with a date from three weeks ago. Beside it were several others, all unopened, all marked 'Return to Sender - Resident Unavailable' in Patricia's precise, sharp handwriting. She hadn't just blocked his visits; she had intercepted his letters, manufacturing a deliberate narrative of abandonment on both sides to keep Eleanor dependent solely on the staff's control.
A cold draft swept through the basement hallway as the heavy metal door at the end of the corridor clicked shut. Footsteps approached the doorway of the administrative alcove. I slipped the letters and the black ledger quickly beneath my apron, pressing them flat against my stomach just as the shadow of the doorway darkened.
It was one of Patricia's loyalists, a senior parlor maid named Evelyn, peering in with narrow, suspicious eyes.
May you like
"What are you doing down here, Claire? The master’s orders were for you to stay upstairs," Evelyn said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.
"I'm fetching extra linens for the guest suite," I said steadily, forcing my breathing to remain calm despite the hard edges of the hidden ledger pressing against my ribs. Evelyn stared at me for a long, agonizing moment before turning on her heel without a word. I let out a quiet breath, knowing I had the physical proof Luca needed, and the war for the house was only just beginning.
