Chapter 3 - The Reckoning of Mrs. Gable
The silence of the house was shattered by the arrival of Dr. Valli.
The tires of his luxury car shrieked against the driveway,
and the front doors were thrown open with a violence that woke the sleeping statues.
Adrien met them in the foyer,
his eyes as hard as flint.
"In the cottage,"
Adrien commanded,
pointing the way.
"She has a fever that could melt lead."
"If she dies,
Valli,
don't bother coming back out."
The doctor,
usually a man of great ego,
didn't say a word.
He simply nodded and ran toward the back of the estate.
As the doctor disappeared,
a light flickered on at the top of the grand staircase.
Mrs. Gable appeared,
wrapped in a dressing gown of severe,
gray silk.
She looked down at Adrien,
her expression one of mild annoyance,
until she saw the look on his face.
"Mr. Romano,"
she said,
her voice thin and sharp.
"You're home early."
"I apologize for the state of the hall,"
"I was unaware—"
"Why is Elena dying in my cottage?"
Adrien interrupted,
his voice vibrating with a power that made the chandeliers rattle.
Mrs. Gable stiffened,
clutching the railing.
"She is unwell,
sir,"
she said,
trying to maintain her composure.
"I have been managing the situation."
"A maid’s illness is not something that should concern a man of your stature."
"I have already arranged for a replacement from the agency."
Adrien began to climb the stairs,
each step slow and deliberate.
Mrs. Gable took a step back,
her face paling.
"You told a three-year-old girl,"
Adrien said,
his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper,
"that her mother would be sent away if she couldn't polish my shoes."
"The girl is a distraction,
sir,"
Gable stammered.
"She was interfering with the household efficiency."
"Efficiency?"
Adrien repeated,
reaching the top of the stairs.
He towered over the woman,
his presence a physical weight.
"This house is not a factory,"
"and those people are not machines."
"They are Romanos."
"By blood or by service,
they are mine."
"And you,"
he said,
pointing a finger at the door,
"are no longer part of this family."
"Sir?"
she gasped,
her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Pack your things,"
Adrien ordered.
"You have twenty minutes."
"After that,
security will escort you to the gate."
"If you ever speak the name Romano again,"
"I will ensure the world forgets you ever existed."
He didn't wait for her response.
He turned and walked back down the stairs,
his coat billowing behind him.
He didn't care about the years of service.
He didn't care about the rules.
He cared about the black polish on a toddler's hands.
He cared about the humming in the dark.
May you like
The King was back,
and the rules were changing.
