Under His Roof, Her Game

Silk-lined lies

ELARA

The scream jolted me awake.

I sat up in bed, clutching the sheets to my chest, my heart thudding in my ears. For a second, I thought I’d dreamed it, but then I heard voices—loud, angry, echoing up the grand staircase. Boots pounded against the marble floor, doors slammed, and someone shouted, “Get her out of here!”

I slid out of bed, my bare feet cold against the polished floor. I moved toward the door, my hands trembling as I reached for the handle. The noise was louder now—men barking orders, the clatter of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

I cracked the door open and peeked into the hall.

What I saw made my stomach turn to ice.

Two of Mateo’s men were hauling a black body bag down the corridor, its shape unmistakably human. One man’s gloved hand gripped the zipper as it slid closed with a sickening sound.

“Oh God,” I whispered, pressing a hand to my mouth.

The men didn’t see me, but I stepped back instinctively, hiding in the shadow of the doorway as they carried the bag out of sight.

“Don’t let anyone see,” one of them muttered.

“I’m not blind,” the other snapped.

I pressed my back to the wall and forced myself to breathe slowly, quietly, so no one would hear me.

Then a voice sliced through the chaos, low and furious.

“Clear this out now.”

Mateo.

I shut the door quickly and stumbled back, my legs weak. My hands shook as I clutched the edge of the vanity table. I had no idea what was happening—only that someone was dead.

And I was trapped here.

---

The knock on my door was sharp and unexpected.

I jumped, my breath catching. “Yes?”

The door opened, and one of the guards stepped inside. He was tall and broad, his face as hard as stone.

“Mr. Navarro wants everyone downstairs,” he said. “Now.”

I swallowed. “Why?”

“Just go.”

I grabbed my robe and tied it tightly around me as I followed him down the staircase. The mansion felt colder than usual, the shadows darker. The guards I passed in the hallway barely looked at me, their expressions grim.

The dining room was already crowded when I stepped inside. The household staff lined up against one wall, eyes wide and frightened. Guards stood like statues near the door.

And at the head of the room, Mateo.

He was dressed in black, his hands in his pockets, his jaw tight. The usual cold indifference in his expression was gone, replaced by something much darker.

He glanced at me briefly as I entered, but his gaze softened for just a second before he turned away.

“Something happened last night,” he said, his voice low but carrying across the room. “Lucy is dead.”

A ripple of shock moved through the room. A maid gasped and pressed a hand to her mouth.

I stared at Mateo, frozen. Lucy. She had been here just two nights ago, draped across his lap, laughing in my face like I was furniture. I had hated her in a quiet, useless way… but now she was gone.

Mateo’s gaze swept over the staff like a blade. “If anyone knows anything, now is the time to speak.”

No one moved.

He let the silence stretch, and it was unbearable. I stood at the back of the room, my hands knotted together, my heart hammering so hard I thought I might be sick.

Finally, Mateo stepped forward, his expression unreadable. “I don’t care if you’re a cook or a guard or one of my oldest men. If I find out someone in this house betrayed me, I will bury you myself. Are we clear?”

“Yes, boss,” the staff murmured in unison.

I swallowed hard and lowered my head, afraid to meet his eyes.

“Everyone can go,” he said after a moment. “Elara—stay.”

My stomach dropped.

The others filed out quickly, their footsteps echoing down the hall. When the last door shut, I stood alone with Mateo, unsure where to look.

He crossed the room slowly, his steps deliberate, until he was standing in front of me. He wasn’t close enough to touch me, but close enough that I could feel the weight of his presence.

“Are you scared?” he asked quietly.

I blinked up at him, startled. “Yes,” I whispered.

His eyes searched mine. “Good.”

I flinched at the coldness in his tone, but he reached out unexpectedly and brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. The touch was gentle, almost protective.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, his voice softer now. “But you should be afraid of whoever did this.”

I nodded quickly, even though my throat felt tight. “I—I don’t know anything,” I said. “I swear.”

“I know,” he said simply.

The certainty in his voice made me blink. He didn’t suspect me at all.

He stepped back, his expression hardening again. “Stay in your room today. I don’t want you wandering around the house while I deal with this.”

“Yes, Mateo,” I said softly.

---

Back in my room, I locked the door and pressed my forehead against it, my body trembling.

I didn’t know how long I stood there before I moved. My feet carried me across the room to the vanity. I pulled the top drawer open, my hands fumbling as I pushed aside hairpins and folded scarves.

At the very back, hidden beneath the silk lining, my fingers brushed against something small and hard.

I hesitated.

Then I pulled it out.

A single diamond earring.

Gianna’s.

I stared at it in my palm, my breath shallow. It felt heavier than it should, a glittering reminder of what had happened last night.

I closed my hand around it, my nails digging into my skin.

No one knew it was there.

And no one ever would.

I slipped it back beneath the lining and shut the drawer, my hands shaking. Then I sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around myself, rocking slightly as the weight of the silence settled over me.

I was scared.

I was trapped.

And if I wanted to survive in this house, I would have to stay small.

Invisible.