Chapter Three; Misadventure
1638 Words
*DE LUCA ESTATE – MAIDS’ COMMON BATHROOM*
*Morning*
Steam fogged up the large mirrors lining the wall as soft chatter and rushing water echoed across the tiled space. Aria stood under one of the showerheads, letting the warm water rinse over her shoulders. Her hair was tied up, and a soft hum escaped her lips.
She reached for her towel and turned slightly—just enough for the small tattoo at the nape of her neck to show. A delicate inked dove.
“Whoa,” a voice said behind her.
Aria tensed.
Lucia stood a few feet away, wrapped in her towel, eyes focused on the tattoo. “That’s... cool,” she said, walking closer. “I didn’t notice it yesterday. A dove?”
Aria nodded slowly, reaching for her shirt.
“Any special meaning?” Lucia asked, her tone casual, but her eyes curious.
Aria’s fingers paused slightly. “It’s... something from my childhood,” she said, not meeting her gaze. “I don’t really talk about it.”
Lucia raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. Everyone has something.”
She moved to her own locker.
Aria finished dressing in silence. Her hand briefly brushed over the tattoo as she looked at herself in the mirror. The maid uniform fit perfectly almost too perfectly.
Aria sighed.
First day as a maid.
*Later That Night – Maid’s Quarters, De Luca Estate*
Aria sat on her bed, towel wrapped around her damp hair as she rubbed cream into her skin. Lucia lay sprawled on her bunk, humming to herself while the third roommate,Reneta, filed her nails lazily.
Then, the whispers started.
“I heard *he’s* back,” Reneta said in a hushed tone, glancing at the door as if the shadows might snitch. “The Serpent of Milan.”
Lucia raised a brow. “Matteo De Luca?”
Reneta nodded. “He arrived this evening. The private jet landed an hour ago. I heard he already killed someone in Mexico last week.”
Aria paused, lotion forgotten in her palm. *Serpent of Milan*... the name sounded familiar. Eerily familiar.
“I heard he doesn’t even blink when he pulls the trigger,” Sofia added.
“And he never smiles,” Lucia whispered dramatically. “Unless someone’s dying.”
Before Aria could ask anything, the door flung open. *Head Maid Claudia* stood tall and stern.
“You three,” she pointed—Aria, Lucia, Reneta. “Get the Don’s medication from the infirmary and take it to his room. Move quickly. Do not speak unless spoken to. And don’t mess anything up.”
They scrambled.
~THE DE LUCA ESTATE~Don's wing*
The double doors to the Don’s chambers creaked open.
Matteo stepped inside, expression blank, hands in his coat pockets. The room smelled of fading life—old cigars, expensive cologne, and the metallic bite of medicine.
His father, Don Alberto De Luca, lay propped against silk pillows. Pale. Thinner than Matteo remembered.
“Figlio mio…” the Don muttered with a slight smile.
(“My son…”)
“You asked for me,” Matteo said, not sitting.
The Don’s eyes glinted with what little strength remained. “Il tempo stringe, Matteo. Devi sposarti. Prima che io muoia.”
(“Time is running out, Matteo. You must marry. Before I die.”)
Matteo’s jaw flexed. He stepped closer, fists clenched.
“Non ho bisogno di una moglie per governare.”
(“I don’t need a wife to rule.”)
His father's voice hardened. “Hai bisogno di una moglie per portare rispetto al nome De Luca.”
(“You need a wife to bring respect to the De Luca name.”)
Matteo turned away sharply, pacing. “Questo è ridicolo.”
(“This is ridiculous.”)
“She will soften your image,” the Don added.
“Voglio che temano il mio nome, non che lo ammorbidiscano.”
(“I want them to fear my name, not soften it.”)
The room fell into heavy silence.
Don Alberto coughed violently into a handkerchief—stained red.
Matteo’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing.
“If you don’t choose, I will,” the Don wheezed.
Matteo looked over his shoulder, silver eyes darkening.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, the sound of his footsteps echoing.
Click.
The door shut behind him.
His father’s voice trailed faintly in the silence.
“Il serpente non può vivere da solo per sempre…”
(“The serpent cannot live alone forever...)
★
♣Grand Hallway Leading to the Don's Wing~
The corridor was quieter than usual, lined with velvet curtains and paintings of De Luca ancestors. Aria held the tray carefully, her heels tapping softly against the marble.
As they turned the corner to the Don’s chamber—he emerged.
Matteo De Luca.
Dressed in all black, shirt unbuttoned at the top, silver rings on his fingers, and flanked by two suited guards—*Enzo* and *Nico*. Cold silver eyes. Sharp, unreadable expression.
Aria’s breath caught.
Their eyes met.
A fraction of a second—silver on hazel.
His gaze narrowed immediately, a slight frown forming as if she’d offended him by simply existing.
She looked away quickly, stepping aside.
But Matteo *paused*, eyes trailing after her. Something flickered there—confusion? Recognition?
He stared at her retreating figure, at the glint of her *platinum hair* twisted into a messy bun.
“Boss?” Enzo asked beside him. “You good?”
Matteo blinked, then walked on wordlessly, the faintest crease between his brows.
De Luca Estate – Servants’ Quarters, Nightfall
The clang of steel pots, the sharp hiss of steam, and the smell of burned garlic clung to Aria like her apron. Her body ached, but her mind was restless.
She flopped onto the thin mattress in the shared room she now called hers, too tired to speak—until she heard whispers from the hallway.
“…he slit the man’s throat without flinching.”
“Shh! Do you want to get us all killed?”
“I’m just saying. That’s what they call him. *Il Serpente di Milano*…”
“The East Wing is cursed. Only the Don, his son, and his men step foot there.”
Aria’s brows lifted slightly.
*Il Serpente…?* The name slithered through her ears like poison—and invitation.
Lucia’s voice snapped her attention back. “Aria, don’t mind them. It’s just stories to scare the new maids.”
But Aria had already sat up, eyes gleaming with quiet mischief.
“East Wing, huh?” she muttered, untying her apron. “What’s a wing without a little breeze?”
Lucia groaned. “No, no, no. You’re not going anywhere. That wing is off-limits. You step there, you’re finished.”
“I’m not stepping, per se,” Aria grinned. “Just… peeking.”
***
The night had thickened into velvet. While the others snored, Aria slid out of bed, barefoot and ghost-quiet. She knew the hallway creaks now—where to step, where to hold her breath.
Her fingers skimmed the cool walls as she neared the East Wing. The air felt different here—older, colder, more expensive.
Then she saw it: a dark, wooden door, slightly ajar, trimmed with black steel. No one stood guard. No flicker of candlelight from within. Just silence.
Aria’s heart thumped like a bass drum in her ears.
One peek won’t kill me… right?
She tiptoed forward, pressing her ear gently to the wooden panel, holding her breath as she listened. But all she could hear was muffled sounds.
“Ugh,” she whispered. “What kind of soundproof devil wood is this?”
She bent lower, trying to peek through the keyhole.
That was when her scarf caught the bronze handle.
*Crrrkkk—bam!*
The door flung open with the most embarrassing betrayal ever, and Aria stumbled face-first into the room like a rolling yam.
*Silence.*
Her eyes slowly lifted.
Six men stared back at her.
And one of them had silver eyes.
Those silver eyes.
Matteo De Luca.
The Serpent.
He stood up slowly, his black dress shirt clinging to his sculpted frame. The room tensed. Enzo reached for his gun instinctively.
“Boss,” Nico said, stepping forward. “We found… something.”
Aria scrambled to her feet, but her legs betrayed her. She slipped again. “s**t—wait—I wasn’t spying! I was just—cleaning!” she squeaked.
Matteo’s brow raised slightly. “At night?” he asked in smooth, deadly Italian.
*“Che piccolo gatto spaventato…”*
(What a scared little cat…)
He took a step forward, towering over her now. His voice was deep, mocking. “Did my enemies send you? Or are you just naturally nosy?”
Enzo and Nico grabbed her arms.
“I—I swear, I didn’t hear anything,” she stammered, trying to look away from his piercing stare.
He leaned in, the scent of danger and cologne clouding her senses.
“You have five seconds to tell me who sent you, Gattina,” he whispered. (Kitty)
She froze.
Nobody had ever called her that.
She didn’t even know why the name gave her goosebumps.
Her lips trembled.
“Let her go,” Matteo said suddenly, stepping back with a scoff. “If she was sent to spy… she’s terrible at it.”
“Should we watch her, boss?” Enzo asked.
“No,” Matteo said, his silver eyes still lingering on her. “She won’t dare do it again.”
And with that, he turned his back to her.
But Aria… couldn’t move. Her knees were weak, her heart racing.
The Devil had looked her in the eye.
And for the first time…
He knew she existed.
- Writer
