Chapter 1 - The Cracks in the Marble
“My name,”
he repeated,
his voice dropping to a register that vibrated in the small space of the kitchen.
“Call me Dominic.”
Bea felt the air leave her lungs,
leaving her lightheaded and frozen against the cold granite of the counter.
The mixing bowl in her hand felt heavy,
suddenly like a lead weight she couldn't put down.
She looked at his eyes,
those dark,
searching depths that usually looked through her as if she were made of glass.
But now,
they were heavy with an intensity she didn't know how to navigate.
“I can't,”
she whispered,
the words barely a breath.
“The staff,
Mrs. Bell,
they would never allow it.”
Dominic took a step closer,
his presence swallowing the light in the room.
He didn't look like a businessman now;
he looked like the predator the world whispered he was.
“Mrs. Bell does not run this estate,”
he said,
his gaze drifting to the pulse jumping in her neck.
“I do.”
“And I am tired of you hiding yourself,”
he added,
his voice softening but losing none of its edge.
Bea’s heart hammered against her ribs,
a frantic bird trapped in a cage of her own making.
She thought of the night before,
the way she had danced in the dark,
feeling free and untethered.
Had he seen her?
The thought sent a shiver of heat down her spine.
“I am just the maid,
Mr. Russo,”
she said,
trying to reclaim her invisibility.
“I am here to work,
to clean,
and to care for Leo.”
Dominic reached out,
his fingers hovering just inches from her arm,
not touching,
yet the heat was undeniable.
“You are the only person in this house my son trusts,”
he noted,
his jaw tight.
“You are the only person who makes this museum feel like a home.”
He finally closed the distance,
his hand coming to rest on the counter beside her,
effectively trapping her.
“Why do you hide,
Beatrice?”
he asked.
“Why the oversized sweaters?”
“Why the lowered eyes?”
She couldn't look away,
the magnetic pull of his gaze drawing her in.
“Because it’s safer,”
she confessed,
the truth slipping out before she could stop it.
“Safe from what?”
he demanded,
his eyes flashing with a sudden,
dark anger.
“From people who think they can own me,”
she said,
her voice gaining a sliver of strength.
Dominic went still,
the silence in the kitchen turning heavy and thick.
He thought of the men he dealt with,
the world of shadows he inhabited,
and the blood he had washed from his hands only hours ago.
He realized she wasn't just hiding from him;
she was hiding from the world.
“No one will ever own you here,”
he promised,
his voice a low,
deadly vow.
“Not while I am breathing.”
He pulled back then,
the sudden loss of his warmth making her feel cold.
“Dinner is at seven,”
he said,
restoring the professional mask.
“You will sit at the table again.”
“And you will wear something that doesn't hide who you are.”
He turned and walked away,
leaving Bea standing in the kitchen,
clutching her cardigan to her chest.
She looked down at her hands and realized she was shaking.
For years,
she had been a ghost,
a shadow moving through the lives of the rich and powerful.
But Dominic Russo had just shone a spotlight on her,
and she didn't know if she was ready to be seen.
Upstairs,
Leo’s laughter echoed through the hallway,
a reminder of the one person who kept her anchored to this place.
She had to stay for him,
she told herself.
But as she looked toward the doorway where Dominic had disappeared,
she knew the truth.
May you like
The invisible girl was gone,
and the woman who replaced her was terrified of the fire she had just glimpsed in her master's eyes.
