The Blind Maid Is My Secret Assistant

Chapter 2

Miguel Anguer had always trusted his instincts.

His instincts had helped him identify dishonest business partners, uncover fraudulent contracts, and remove incompetent executives before they could damage the Anguer Corporation.

So when his instincts told him that Anya Margo was hiding something, he listened.

The problem was that he couldn't figure out exactly what she was hiding.

For three days, Miguel watched her.

Not obviously, of course.

He had a reputation to maintain.

A billionaire CEO shouldn't spend his mornings staring at a maid.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Unfortunately, Miguel had become very good at finding reasons to look in Anya's direction.

She was always somewhere nearby.

In the dining room.

In the library.

In the gardens.

In the hallway.

And somehow, she never seemed lost.

That was the first thing that bothered him.

The mansion was enormous.

Even Miguel occasionally took the wrong corridor when he was distracted.

Yet Anya could walk from her room to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the library, and from the library to the east wing without touching a wall or asking anyone for directions.

It was almost as though she could see.

One morning, Miguel stood at the top of the staircase and watched her.

Anya emerged from the hallway carrying a basket of freshly folded towels.

She walked toward the staircase.

Miguel waited.

There were twelve steps.

Anya descended on them without hesitation.

One.

Two.

Three.

She didn't reach for the railing.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Miguel narrowed his eyes.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

She reached the bottom.

Then she turned left.

Exactly where the hallway began.

Miguel followed her.

"Anya."

She stopped immediately.

"Yes, Mr. Anguer?"

"How many steps are there?"

She smiled.

"Twelve."

Miguel looked at the staircase.

"How did you know?"

"I counted them."

"When?"

"The first day."

"You counted them while walking?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"So I wouldn't fall."

Miguel crossed his arms.

"Most people would use the railing."

"I do."

"You didn't."

"I didn't need to."

Miguel stared at her.

Anya smiled innocently.

"You have a problem with my walking?"

"I have a problem with the fact that you walk like someone who can see."

Her smile disappeared for half a second.

Then returned.

"Perhaps I'm simply talented."

Miguel sighed.

"That's becoming your favorite excuse."

"It's a good one."

She continued walking.

Miguel watched her disappear around the corner.

Something wasn't right.

He knew it.

Later that afternoon, Miguel was in the library looking for a particular book.

He had left it on the second shelf three days earlier.

Now it was missing.

He searched the table.

Nothing.

The desk.

Nothing.

The cabinet.

Nothing.

"Anya."

She appeared almost immediately.

"Yes?"

"Have you seen a black leather notebook?"

"The one with the silver initials?"

Miguel froze.

"Yes."

"It's on your desk."

He stared at her.

"How do you know?"

"You left it there this morning."

"I didn't."

"You did."

Miguel walked toward his desk.

The notebook was there.

Exactly where she said it was.

He turned around.

"You remember everything?"

"Not everything."

"Then what do you remember?"

"Important things."

"Was my notebook important?"

"Apparently."

Miguel frowned.

"You remember when I left it?"

"This morning."

"What time?"

"Eight seventeen."

He stared.

"How do you know the exact time?"

"I heard the grandfather clock."

Miguel looked at the clock.

Eight–seventeen was indeed the time he had entered the library.

But he hadn't told her.

He walked closer.

"You remember conversations too?"

Anya tilted her head.

"Some."

"What did I say to Mr. Harris yesterday?"

"Which conversation?"

"The one in the dining room."

Anya smiled.

"You told him to cancel your dinner appointment with the minister."

Miguel's eyes narrowed.

"What else?"

"You said you wanted the financial reports from the Singapore branch before Friday."

"What else?"

"You complained that the coffee was terrible."

Miguel blinked.

"I did not."

Anya smiled.

"You did."

"Who told you?"

"No one."

"You heard us?"

"Yes."

Miguel studied her face.

"You have an unusually good memory."

"I've always been good with details."

"Very convenient."

"Sometimes."

He walked away.

Anya waited until his footsteps disappeared.

Only then did her expression change.

She was becoming careless.

Miguel was observant.

Far more observant than she'd expected.

That could become a problem.

But she couldn't leave yet.

Not until she found what she was looking for.

That evening, Anya entered the Anguer Corporation's private office wing.

The mansion was connected to the company's executive building through a private underground passage.

Only a handful of people knew about it.

Anya had learned about it on her first day.

She moved quietly through the corridor.

She wasn't looking for money.

She wasn't looking for jewelry.

She wasn't looking for anything that could benefit herself.

She was looking for evidence.

Someone had been leaking confidential information from the Anguer Corporation.

Major contracts had been sabotaged.

Competitors had mysteriously received private bids.

Several important deals had fallen apart at the last moment.

And someone inside the company had access to information that only senior executives should have known.

Anya suspected there was a mole.

Her job was to find out who.

She entered the executive archive.

The room was dark.

She closed the door.

Then she removed a small device from her pocket.

It wasn't sophisticated.

It didn't need to be.

Anya knew how to work with limited tools.

She searched through several files.

Nothing.

Then she found something unusual.

A contract from three months earlier.

The file contained confidential information about a major international acquisition.

Anya carefully examined the pages.

The information had been altered.

Someone had changed the delivery schedule.

The change had caused the deal to fail.

She checked the authorization code.

Her breathing stopped.

The code belonged to someone inside Miguel's inner circle.

Someone with executive access.

Anya copied the information.

Then she heard footsteps.

She froze.

Someone was coming.

She quickly turned off the light.

The door opened.

A man's silhouette appeared.

Anya held her breath.

The man walked into the archive.

He stopped.

Then he moved toward the cabinet where she had been standing.

Anya quietly stepped backward.

The man opened a drawer.

He removed a folder.

Then he left.

Anya waited.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Only when she was certain the hallway was empty did she move.

She approached the drawer.

It was still open.

Inside was another folder.

This one contained copies of several confidential reports.

Anya's heart beat faster.

The same authorization code appeared again.

She had found something important.

But there was a bigger question.

Who had access to that code?

She memorized the information.

Then she returned the folder.

As she left the room, she noticed something on the floor.

A cufflink.

Silver.

With the Anguer family crest.

Anya picked it up.

She frowned.

That wasn't good.

At midnight, Miguel was still awake.

He had been working in his office for nearly four hours.

He looked at the clock.

12:36 a.m.

He closed his laptop.

Enough.

He stood.

As he walked through the hallway, something caught his attention.

A shadow.

At the far end of the corridor.

Someone was standing outside his office.

Miguel stopped.

The figure was small.

Familiar.

"Anya?"

The woman turned.

She was wearing her maid's uniform.

Her dark glasses reflected the faint hallway light.

"Mr. Anguer."

Miguel approached.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was cleaning."

"At midnight?"

Anya paused.

"Cleaning is peaceful at night."

Miguel glanced at his office.

"You've been outside my office."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it was dusty."

"The hallway?"

"Very dusty."

Miguel stared at her.

Anya smiled.

"Would you prefer I leave it dirty?"

"No."

He stepped closer.

"How did you find this room?"

Anya's expression remained calm.

"I counted the footsteps."

Miguel frowned.

"What?"

"I counted the footsteps."

"Whose?"

"Yours."

"My footsteps?"

"Yes."

She pointed down the corridor.

"You usually take twenty-three steps from the staircase to your office."

Miguel stared at her.

Twenty-three.

She was right.

But there was something else.

"How do you know when I'm here?"

"I listen."

"You recognize my footsteps?"

"Of course."

Miguel's eyebrow lifted.

"Why?"

"Because you're loud."

"I am not loud."

"You walk like you're angry with the floor."

Miguel almost laughed.

Almost.

Then he remembered his question.

"You're avoiding the question."

Anya's smile faded.

"What question?"

"Why were you outside my office?"

She hesitated.

"I heard something."

"What?"

"A noise."

"What kind?"

"A door."

Miguel looked toward his office.

"My door?"

"No."

"Then whose?"

Anya shook her head.

"I don't know."

Miguel studied her.

He didn't believe her.

Not completely.

But he couldn't prove she was lying.

"Go to bed."

Anya nodded.

"Good night, Mr. Anguer."

She walked away.

Miguel waited until she disappeared.

Then he turned toward his office.

He opened the door.

Everything looked normal.

His files were untouched.

His laptop was locked.

Nothing seemed missing.

Yet Miguel couldn't shake the feeling that someone had been inside.

He looked at the security monitor.

The hallway camera showed nothing unusual.

Except for one strange detail.

Anya had appeared outside his office exactly twelve minutes earlier.

But the security system showed no record of her walking there.

Miguel stared at the screen.

Impossible.

He rewound the footage.

Again.

Nothing.

Anya simply appeared at the end of the hallway.

Miguel leaned closer.

Then he noticed something.

The camera had been disabled for exactly thirty seconds.

Someone had interrupted the recording.

Someone who knew the security system.

Miguel's expression hardened.

This wasn't about Anya.

There was someone else inside the mansion.

The next morning, Anya sat in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

She could hear Miguel approaching.

His footsteps were unmistakable.

Heavy.

Fast.

Annoyed.

As usual.

He entered.

"Good morning."

Anya smiled.

"Good morning, Mr. Anguer."

Miguel sat aPicque from her.

She poured coffee.

He watched her.

"You were in my office last night."

Anya calmly placed the cup in front of him.

"I was outside it."

"Why?"

"I told you."

"You heard a door."

"Yes."

"Which door?"

Anya paused.

"The archive."

Miguel's eyes sharpened.

"What archive?"

Anya realized her mistake.

She had said too much.

She smiled.

"The old storage room."

"There is no old storage room."

Anya slowly lifted her coffee.

"Then perhaps I heard a door that doesn't exist."

Miguel stared at her.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.

It was brief.

Quiet.

But it was genuine.

Anya blinked.

That was the first time she'd heard him laugh.

"You are impossible," he said.

"So I've been told."

Miguel shook his head.

He took a sip of coffee.

Then immediately grimaced.

"Too sweet."

Anya smiled.

"I know."

"You know?"

"You always add two teaspoons."

"I don't."

"You did yesterday."

Miguel looked at her.

She looked innocent.

He narrowed his eyes.

"You really do remember everything."

"Only important things."

"Am I important?"

The question escaped before Miguel could stop it.

Anya went still.

For the first time, she seemed genuinely surprised.

Then she smiled.

"You're my employer."

Miguel looked away.

"Right."

For some reason, he felt disappointed.

Neither noticed Harris standing near the doorway.

The older man watched them with amusement.

Then he quietly walked away.

That afternoon, Anya returned to her room.

She locked the door.

She removed the cufflink from her pocket.

The silver Anguer family crest glimmered under the light.

She placed it beside the copied authorization code.

The pieces were beginning to fit together.

Someone inside the Anguer family was involved.

Someone powerful.

Someone close to Miguel.

Anya stared at the evidence.

She knew what she had to do.

She needed to find out who owned the cufflink.

But there was one problem.

The answer might destroy Miguel's family.

And possibly his company.

She closed her hand around the cufflink.

Then she heard footsteps outside her door.

She froze.

The footsteps stopped.

A voice came from the hallway.

"Anya?"

Miguel.

She quickly hid the evidence.

"Yes?"

"Are you busy?"

"No."

The door opened slightly.

Miguel stood there.

He looked unusually serious.

"I need your help."

Anya smiled.

"With what?"

Miguel held out a file.

"Someone is leaking confidential information from my company."

Anya's heart stopped.

Miguel continued.

"I think the person may be inside my household."

He looked directly at her.

"I need someone I can trust."

Anya stared at him.

For the first time, she felt guilty about lying to him.

Because she wasn't merely his maid.

She had been investigating his company behind his back.

And now Miguel Anguer was asking her to help uncover the traitor.

Without realizing that she already had evidence.

Without realizing that she had already discovered the first clue.

And without knowing that the person responsible might be closer to him than either of them imagined.

Anya slowly accepted the file.

"I'll help."

Miguel nodded.

"Good."

He turned to leave.

"Anya?"

"Yes?"

He looked back.

"Don't lie to me."

Her heart skipped.

Miguel's gaze remained fixed on her.

"I hate being lied to."

Anya forced a smile.

"I won't."

He left.

The door closed.

Anya looked down at the file in her hands.

Then she whispered to herself:

"I'm sorry, Miguel."

Because she had just made her first promise to him.

And she already knew she was going to break it.

The blind maid was hiding a secret.

Miguel was hiding his growing feelings.

And somewhere inside the Anguer household, a traitor was waiting.

The game had begun.