Chapter 5 - The Velvet Theft
The opportunity Clara had been praying for arrived three days later. Ricardo had left for an emergency meeting with the regional port authority, and Verónica had scheduled a four-hour appointment at an exclusive day spa in the city. The mansion was quiet, the other servants occupied with their duties in the gardens and the guest wings.
Clara stood outside the master bedroom suite, her cleaning cart parked in the hallway. Her heart was beating so loud she was terrified the security cameras at the end of the hall might pick up the sound. She knew the risks. If she was caught in Verónica’s private chambers without explicit orders, she would be dismissed immediately—or worse, arrested.
She pushed the door open. The bedroom was an opulent expanse of white silk, mirrored furniture, and custom-carved marble. The scent of Verónica’s perfume hung heavy in the air, a suffocating reminder of the woman’s presence.
Clara walked straight to the grand mahogany vanity table. On top of it sat a large, antique jewelry chest made of dark rosewood and inlaid with mother-of-pearl. It was a beautiful piece, but to Clara, it looked like a casket holding a family's soul.
She lifted the heavy lid. Inside lay hundreds of thousands of dollars in diamonds, emeralds, and solid gold cuffs—the spoils of Verónica’s marriage. Clara ignored the glitter of the stones. She began feeling along the velvet-lined walls of the interior, searching for the secret compartment Doña Leonor had described.
Her fingers pressed against a small, raised brass pin hidden beneath the ring velvet in the back left corner. With a soft click, a false bottom popped upward, revealing a small, velvet-lined drawer hidden beneath the main body of the chest.
Inside lay three things: a thick stack of forged medical documents bearing the letterhead of the Klinik am See in Zurich, a burner cell phone, and a heavy, rusted iron key attached to a simple leather strap.
Clara reached for the key, her fingers closing around the cold metal. This was it. This was Doña Leonor’s freedom.
Suddenly, the sound of a sports car's engine echoed through the open balcony doors. Clara ran to the window, peering down into the grand driveway.
It was Verónica’s red Ferrari. She was back two hours early.
Panic, cold and sharp, flooded Clara’s system. She could hear the heavy front doors of the mansion opening downstairs, followed by Verónica’s sharp voice yelling for the butler.
"Andrés! Tell the maid to bring a bottle of sparkling water to my room immediately! The spa was completely unacceptable today!"
Clara looked at the key in her hand, then looked back at the secret compartment. If she took the key now, Verónica would notice it missing the next time she opened the chest, and Clara would be trapped. She needed to make a choice—save herself, or risk everything for the woman in the dark.
With a trembling hand, Clara pulled a small piece of soap from her cleaning apron pocket. She pressed the heavy iron key hard into the soft bar of soap, creating a perfect, deep impression of the key's teeth and shaft. She did it twice, ensuring every detail was captured in the waxy substance. Then, she placed the key back into the secret compartment, snapped the false bottom shut, and closed the jewelry chest.
She grabbed her dust cloth and began wiping down the mirror just as the double doors of the bedroom flew open.
Verónica stood in the doorway, her face tight with irritation, her sunglasses still covering her eyes. She stopped, her gaze immediately locking onto Clara.
"What are you doing in here?" Verónica hissed, her hands dropping to her hips.
"I'm finishing the dusting, madame," Clara said, keeping her voice low and steady, though her hands were shaking beneath her apron where the bar of soap was hidden. "I wanted to ensure your vanity was clean before you returned."
Verónica walked over to the vanity, her eyes scanning the surface. She looked at the rosewood jewelry chest, then looked at Clara’s uniform pockets. For a second, the silence in the room was absolute.
"Get out," Verónica said quietly, her voice dangerous. "And if I find you in my bedroom again without Andrés supervising you, I will make good on my promise from the other night."
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"Yes, madame," Clara said, bowing her head and pulling her cleaning cart out into the hallway.
As soon as she was around the corner, she leaned against the wall, gasping for air. She had the mold. Now, she just needed to find someone who could make the key.
