Chapter 4 - The Unseen Trap
The next evening, Nathaniel hosted a private dinner for four high-profile investors in the formal dining room. Victoria was in her element, wearing an emerald velvet dress and diamond necklace, charming the guests with effortless sophistication.
Nathaniel sat at the head of the table, looking distinguished, but Grace noticed the subtle lines of strain around his eyes. He looked exhausted, carrying the weight of a massive upcoming corporate merger that his late father had dreamed of completing.
Grace supervised the dinner service with quiet precision. She moved through the dining room like a ghost, ensuring glasses were filled and plates were cleared without making a sound.
Whenever Nathaniel caught her eye, there was a fleeting moment of intense focus in his look—a silent question that he hadn't yet found the opportunity to ask. Victoria did not miss these brief exchanges; her eyes narrowed every time Nathaniel looked in Grace's direction.
At 10:00 PM, the guests departed. Nathaniel escorted them to their limousine, leaving Victoria alone in the main salon.
Grace was gathering the silver dessert spoons when Victoria walked into the room, holding a glass of scotch.
"You're very persistent, Grace," Victoria said softly, stepping close enough that Grace could smell her expensive perfume. "Most people in your position would have taken a generous severance and run. Why stay? Is the humble maid holding out hope for something more?"
Grace kept her face expressionless as she placed the spoons into a felt-lined tray. "I stay because I have a job to do, Miss Ashford."
"A job?" Victoria laughed softly, a low, mocking sound. "You scrub floors and arrange flowers. You are completely replaceable. Nathaniel doesn't care about you. To him, you are an appliance—like the furnace or the refrigerator. You make his life comfortable, and the moment you break down, you will be thrown out."
Grace stopped her work and turned to face Victoria. The soft light of the chandelier reflected in Grace's steady eyes.
"An appliance does not know where the bodies are buried, Miss Ashford," Grace said quietly, her tone smooth and measured. "And an appliance does not keep copies of the foundation's quarterly audit logs."
Victoria’s glass froze halfway to her lips. The color drained slightly from her cheeks, replaced by a sudden, dangerous stillness.
"What did you say?" Victoria whispered.
"I said the silver is cleaned, ma'am," Grace replied seamlessly, picking up the tray. "I will be locking up the kitchen now. Goodnight."
Grace walked out of the room, leaving Victoria standing frozen in the middle of the salon.
It was a risky move, a deliberate provocation. Grace knew that by dropping that subtle hint, she would force Victoria to act rashly. Victoria would be compelled to check the safe or attempt to destroy the audit logs tonight—and that was precisely when Grace planned to catch her.
Two hours later, at 12:30 AM, the estate fell completely silent.
Grace sat in her darkened room, dressed in dark clothing. She checked her phone. A small motion-sensor app, connected to a tiny hidden camera she had placed near the library entrance earlier that afternoon, vibrated in her palm.
The camera showed a figure in a black coat slipping into the West Wing library.
It was Victoria.
May you like
Grace took a deep breath, grabbed a small digital storage drive and her phone, and slipped out of her room. This was her only chance. If she could catch Victoria in the act of accessing the safe and download the live transaction logs, she would have the proof she needed to break Victoria's hold over Nathaniel once and for all.
Grace moved like a shadow down the long, silent corridors, her heart pounding a violent rhythm against her ribs.
