Chapter 8 : Under Watch
1017 Words
Damien De Luca returned to the estate late that evening.
The black convoy rolled through the massive iron gates before stopping in front of the mansion.
The moment Damien stepped out of the vehicle, the guards straightened.
He adjusted the sleeve of his black suit and walked toward the entrance without acknowledging anyone.
The servants who happened to be nearby immediately moved aside.
No one needed to tell them what to do.
His presence was enough.
Damien entered the mansion.
As he passed the dining hall, he briefly glanced through the open doors.
The workers were having dinner.
The room became noticeably quieter.
Damien didn't stop.
His eyes moved across the tables for only a moment before he continued down the corridor.
Among the workers, Elenia watched him disappear.
She quickly lowered her gaze.
She had seen him before from a distance, but this was the first time she had been close enough to understand why everyone became so tense whenever he appeared.
There was something about him that made the entire atmosphere change.
Elenia picked up her spoon again.
She told herself not to think about it.
He was simply the man who owned the estate.
Nothing more.
---
Damien entered his private study.
He removed his jacket and placed it over the back of a chair.
His chief of security was already waiting.
"Sir."
Damien looked at him.
"Report."
The man hesitated.
"There was an incident in the east wing while you were away."
Damien's expression hardened slightly.
"What kind?"
"A new worker was found near the restricted corridor."
Damien turned.
"Who?"
"Elenia Romano."
He paused.
The name meant nothing to him.
"Explain."
"She was seen walking toward the restricted area."
"Did she enter?"
"No, sir."
"Did she touch the door?"
"No."
"Then why are you reporting it?"
"Because she shouldn't have been anywhere near that corridor."
Damien stared at him.
"What did she say?"
"She said she got lost."
A brief silence followed.
Damien walked toward the security monitor.
"Show me the footage."
The chief immediately pulled up the recording.
The screen showed one of the east-wing corridors.
Elenia appeared carrying cleaning supplies.
She walked slowly.
She stopped at an intersection.
Looked left.
Then right.
She continued down the wrong corridor.
Damien watched without speaking.
The footage showed her stopping a few meters from the restricted entrance.
She looked at the door.
Then at the keypad.
She didn't touch it.
A guard appeared.
Elenia immediately stepped back.
The guard spoke to her.
She answered.
Then she hurried away.
Damien paused the recording.
"How long has she been working here?"
"Less than a week."
"Background?"
"Her file says she came from the Romano household."
Damien's eyes narrowed slightly.
The Romano family.
He remembered the agreement.
Their debt had been settled.
Elenia had been part of the arrangement.
Nothing about her background appeared unusual.
Still, Damien didn't like unexplained incidents.
"Did she attempt to access the restricted area?"
"No, sir."
"Was she carrying anything besides cleaning supplies?"
"No."
"Did she speak to anyone before she got there?"
"Not that we found."
Damien looked at the frozen image on the screen.
She genuinely looked lost.
But appearances were not evidence.
"Keep a close eye on her."
The security chief nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Don't interfere with her work."
"Understood."
"Just watch."
"Yes, sir."
Damien's gaze remained on the screen.
"Any suspicious movement, you report it to me immediately."
The chief nodded.
"Of course."
Damien finally looked at him.
"And if you fail to report something important..."
His voice became colder.
"You won't get a second chance."
The chief swallowed.
"Understood, sir."
"Leave."
The man immediately left the room.
Damien turned off the monitor.
The matter should have ended there.
A new worker had gotten lost.
Nothing more.
At least, that's what it appeared to be.
---
Meanwhile, Elenia had already returned to her room.
She sat on the edge of her bed, exhausted.
Her feet hurt.
Her shoulders ached.
She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
Then she remembered the east wing.
The wrong corridor.
The black door.
The security guard.
Elenia opened her eyes.
"Would I get in trouble for that?"
She had never intended to go there.
She had simply gotten lost.
But what if they didn't believe her?
What if they thought she had deliberately gone there?
She swallowed.
Maybe she should have asked someone for directions instead of wandering around.
She picked up her broken phone and stared at the black screen.
Everything was becoming more difficult than she had imagined.
She missed home.
She missed the freedom she used to take for granted.
But she couldn't go back.
Not yet.
Elenia placed the phone down and pulled the blanket over herself.
She tried to sleep.
A few minutes later—
Knock.
Knock.
Her eyes flew open.
A cold rush swept through her body as adrenaline rushed through her veins.
Her heart began pounding.
For one terrifying second, she thought about the restricted corridor.
Had someone found out?
Was one of Damien's guards outside her door?
Was she about to be punished?
Elenia slowly sat up.
"Who's there?"
A familiar voice answered from the other side.
"It's one of the maids."
Elenia's shoulders remained tense.
"Why?"
"Nothing is wrong. I was only asked to pass a message to you."
Elenia hesitated.
"What message?"
"You've been assigned to help in the west garden tomorrow morning."
She blinked.
"That's all?"
"Yes."
The footsteps disappeared down the corridor.
Elenia remained sitting on her bed.
She pressed a hand against her chest.
Her heartbeat slowly began to settle.
She let out a quiet breath.
For a moment, she had been certain someone had discovered her mistake.
But apparently, nobody had.
At least...
Nobody had told her that they had.
Elenia lay back down and closed her eyes.
She had no idea that several rooms away, a security system had already recorded her every movement.
And she had no idea that the man who owned the estate had watched that recording himself.
For now, she was simply another worker.
But she was no longer completely unnoticed.
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