Annabelle stepped into the grand foyer of the mansion, its cold marble floors gleaming under the dim evening light. The familiar silence weighed heavily on her, the kind that made her chest tighten with unease. It was the kind of silence that hinted at something brewing—something she wouldn’t like.
Before she could gather her thoughts, Dominique, one of Derek’s more reserved staff members, approached her swiftly, her heels clicking faintly against the floor. Annabelle paused, startled by the urgency in the woman’s stride.
“Ma'am,” Dominique said in a hushed tone, glancing over her shoulder to ensure they were alone. Her usually stoic face bore an unusual softness. “The house has been... tense today. The boss—he’s been fuming since morning.”
Annabelle frowned, her stomach sinking.
