Chapter 2 - The Whispers of the Past
By 2:00 AM, the mansion was dark and quiet. Upstairs in the staff quarters, Rosa Delgado sat on the edge of her small twin bed, watching Mia sleep. The toddler’s breathing was soft and rhythmic, her thumb tucked securely into her mouth.
Rosa gently reached out and touched the jagged, uneven patch above Mia’s temple. Anger, hot and heavy, rushed through her veins, replacing the paralyzing fear she had felt earlier. How dare that woman touch her baby?
A knock at her door broke her train of thought.
Rosa opened it to find Adrien standing in the hallway. He had taken off his tuxedo jacket and unbuttoned his collar, looking exhausted but intensely focused.
“Mr. Hastings,” Rosa whispered, stepping into the hallway and pulling the door almost shut behind her. “Is everything alright?”
“I need to talk to you, Rosa. Downstairs. In my study.”
Rosa’s heart thundered against her ribs. She nodded, grabbed her sweater, and followed him down the grand staircase.
In the study, Adrien poured two glasses of water, handing one to her. He sat across from her in a leather armchair, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees.
“Rosa, how long have you worked for me?”
“Two years, sir. Since Mia was a year old.”
“And where were you before that?”
Rosa swallowed hard. “I worked at a diner in upstate New York. Before that, I lived in Chicago, doing odd jobs.”
Adrien leaned in closer. “Where did Mia come from, Rosa?”
The question hung in the air like a heavy curtain. Rosa felt her throat tighten. “She’s my daughter.”
“I know she’s your daughter,” Adrien said softly. “But who is her father?”
“He... he isn’t in the picture,” Rosa lied, her eyes darting to the floor. “He left before she was born. I don’t speak about him.”
Adrien reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph of his sister, Elena. He placed it on the glass coffee table between them.
“Do you know who this is?”
Rosa looked down at the photo. Her eyes widened slightly, a subtle flinch that Adrien’s sharp eyes didn’t miss.
“That’s your sister, Elena,” Rosa said, keeping her voice as steady as possible. “You have her portrait in the gallery.”
“Elena died three years ago in a car crash near Milwaukee,” Adrien said, watching Rosa’s face intently. “She was pregnant when she left Chicago. The police report said she died along with her partner, and the unborn child was lost. But looking at Mia tonight... Rosa, Mia has Elena’s eyes. She has the Hastings family’s chin. It’s a trait that has been passed down in my family for four generations.”
Rosa’s breath hitched. She stood up abruptly. “Mr. Hastings, I respect you, and I am grateful for your kindness tonight, but if you are implying that my daughter belongs to your wealthy family, you are mistaken. Mia is mine.”
“I’m not trying to take her from you!” Adrien said quickly, standing up as well. “Rosa, please. If Elena somehow gave birth before she died... if Mia is my niece...” His voice cracked, revealing a deep, painful vulnerability that Rosa had never seen in the formidable billionaire. “Please, just tell me the truth.”
Rosa looked into Adrien’s eyes. She saw no malice there, no arrogance—only the raw grief of a brother who had missed his sister every day for three years.
Tears welled in Rosa’s eyes. She crossed her arms, holding herself tightly.
“Elena didn’t die in that car crash,” Rosa whispered.
Adrien stopped breathing. “What?”
“The man she was with—Julian—he was a dangerous man, Adrien,” Rosa said, her voice trembling. “He was involved with heavy gambling debts and bad people. Elena realized too late what kind of man he was. She tried to leave him, but he threatened her. He told her if she ran back to the Hastings family, he would destroy your company and bring scandal to your name.”
Adrien’s fists clenched. “Why didn’t she come to me?! I could have destroyed him!”
“She was terrified!” Rosa cried. “She came to me instead. We met in college, Adrien. Elena and I were secretly best friends before my family lost everything and I had to drop out. She showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night, heavily pregnant and bruised. I hid her. A month later, she gave birth to Mia in a small, private clinic under a fake name.”
Adrien felt the world spinning around him. “Where is she? Where is Elena?”
Rosa wept, covering her face. “Two months after Mia was born, Julian’s loan sharks found out where we were. Elena knew they were coming. She took Julian’s car to draw them away from the house so Mia and I could escape. She... she crashed on the icy highway while they were chasing her. The car exploded. There was nothing left.”
Silence filled the study, heavy and suffocating.
“Elena sacrificed herself to save Mia and me,” Rosa sobbed. “Her last words to me were, ‘Protect my baby. Don’t let the Hastings name put a target on her back until she’s safe.’ So I took Mia. I faked documents, changed my routine, and became a ghost. I applied for a job in your house two years ago because I wanted Mia to grow up knowing, even from afar, the family she belonged to... but I was too afraid to tell you.”
Adrien stood frozen, tears silently streaming down his face.
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Mia wasn’t just a maid’s child. She was his blood. She was Elena’s daughter—the last living piece of his beloved little sister.
Without a word, Adrien walked over to Rosa and pulled her into a tight, desperate embrace. “Thank you,” he choked out. “Thank you for protecting her. Thank you for keeping her alive.”
