The Truth

Ch.8: Close One

Working at the Caesar Mansion for the first two months was... well, let's just say it was a unique blend of hell and something vaguely tolerable. My primary interaction with Mr. Caesar involved delivering reports-glamorous, I know. But here's the kicker: this guy was every bit the cliché you'd expect from a billionaire CEO in a dark romance novel.

Let me paint you a picture. The man was so handsome it was almost unfair. He had these blue eyes that looked like they could drown you if you stared too long. Seriously, they were like the freaking ocean. His jawline? Sharper than the knives in the kitchen, and trust me, I'd cut myself on those before. And then there were his eyes-the kind of gaze that could make a woman's clothes fall off with just one look. I totally understood why Alessia was so possessive. If I were married to that, I'd probably be paranoid too.

But here's the thing: there are plenty of other fish in the sea, even if this one happens to be the biggest, shiniest fish in the tank. Alessia clearly didn't get the memo. Speaking of which, every time I caught a glimpse of her heading into her husband's office, she'd come out looking like she just lost a battle with a box of tissues. And not in a cute way either-more like a 'why did I marry this guy?' kind of way.

At first, I felt bad for her. I mean, no one likes to see a grown woman sobbing her eyes out, right? But then Kira, ever the wise sage of mansion gossip, clued me in. Apparently, Alessia's tears were as fake as her last nose job. The woman was a professional actress and model, and let me tell you, she knew how to work those waterworks for dramatic effect. Now I get why she's so successful in her career-she's got the whole 'woe is me' act down to a science.

Anyway, back to Mr. Caesar. Yeah, he was hot, but he also had the personality of a cold, sharp object. Like, if looks could kill, his would be the murder weapon. And the worst part? He knew it. Every time I handed him a report, he'd give me this once-over, like he was scanning me for weaknesses or something. It was unnerving, but I'd learned to just smile, nod, and back out of the room before his aura of doom and gloom could suck me in.

The job itself was fine, though. If you ignore the constant fear of doing something wrong and the occasional melodrama, it was just your standard servant gig in a billionaire's mansion. Cleaning, organizing, running errands-it was all part of the package. But honestly, I'd take that over my last job any day. At least here, the pay was good enough to make the crazy worth it.

So, yeah, two months in and I was still alive. Barely. But I was alive, and that had to count for something, right?

"So he was staring at me, like he really, really wanted to do this, and I was like, yeah," Hazel said, her eyes wide with excitement as she recounted her latest romantic escapade with David, the second butler. Kira and I exchanged a knowing glance, trying to suppress our laughter. Hazel's love life was basically the mansion's favorite soap opera, and we were all invested.

But just as we were getting into the juicy details, the mood in the room shifted. Alessia walked into the maid headquarters, her presence as subtle as a freight train. Hazel immediately clammed up, her face going from animated to deer-in-headlights in record time.

"Oh hey, girls, mind if I join?" Alessia's voice was sugary sweet, but it had that underlying edge that made you want to say 'no' but know you couldn't.

Kira's expression went from blank to a forced smile so fast, it was like watching someone flip a switch. Hazel, ever the master of fake enthusiasm, plastered on a grin and nodded. "Yeah, of course!" she chirped, but I could see the desperation in her eyes.

"What were you talking about?" Alessia asked, settling in beside me like she was one of the girls. Spoiler alert: she was not one of the girls.

"Just our past," Hazel lied smoothly, her voice a little too high-pitched. Kira nodded in agreement, and I followed suit, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Alessia didn't seem to care whether we were lying or not. She was already making herself comfortable, oblivious to the awkward tension that filled the room.

So there we were, stuck in this weird limbo of polite conversation, with Hazel spinning some wildly fake story about her so-called past. Kira and I did our best to play along, nodding and fake laughing at all the right moments. It was one of those 'crazy things you do to keep your job' moments, but Alessia ate it up like she had no clue we were all just trying to keep the peace.

The whole situation was ridiculous, but what could we do? We were three maids, and she was the lady of the house. The power dynamics were pretty clear. So, as Hazel wove her tale and we all pretended to enjoy it, I found myself wondering if this was just how things were going to be from now on-endless fake conversations and awkward moments just to keep Alessia happy.

Well, at least it made for some good stories later. I mean, who else could say they had to fake laugh their way through a conversation with their boss's wife just to survive the workday?

As Hazel wrapped up her story, I could feel Alessia's eyes shift toward me, like she was expecting me to chime in with my own tale. But there was no way I was getting myself tangled up in that mess. Lying wasn't exactly my strong suit, and the last thing I needed was to accidentally spill the truth or worse, contradict one of Hazel's fabrications. So, I politely declined with a simple, "Oh, I'm not much of a storyteller," and left it at that.

Alessia sighed dramatically, the kind of sigh that could probably get half the earth's population to ask what's wrong. "Ahh... my hubby hasn't been around yet. Who knows where he is," she said, her voice dripping with faux concern. It was like she was trying to bait us into revealing something, anything, about Ryan's whereabouts.

I opened my mouth to say something generic and safe, but before I could get a word out, Kira's hand clamped down on my arm, her grip firm but not painful. The message was clear: Don't. Say. A. Word.

Ah, so that was the game Alessia was playing. She wasn't just fishing for gossip-she was setting traps, trying to see who might slip up and give her some useful intel. I had to admit, the woman was sharp. She knew exactly what she was doing, playing innocent while digging for dirt.

"No one knows, My lady," Hazel chimed in, her smile as bright as ever, though there was a definite undercurrent of tension. Her voice was sweet, but the subtext was clear: Don't involve us in your schemes.

Alessia seemed to ponder this for a moment, her eyes flicking between the three of us. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head, trying to decide if we were telling the truth or if we were just covering for her husband. The whole situation was ridiculous, like we were all characters in some twisted soap opera, where every word and gesture had a hidden meaning.

Finally, Alessia seemed to let it go, leaning back in her chair with a small, satisfied smile. "Well, I suppose he'll turn up eventually," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if the subject was no longer of any importance. But I could tell she was still watching us, still trying to gauge our reactions.

We all breathed a little easier when Alessia finally stood up, smoothing out her dress. "I'll leave you girls to your chatting, then," she said with a saccharine smile, before sashaying out of the room as gracefully as she had entered.

The second she was out of earshot, I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Well, that was fun," I muttered, the sarcasm thick in my voice.

Kira just shook her head, clearly relieved the encounter was over. "Welcome to the mansion," she said dryly. "Where every conversation is a potential landmine."

Hazel chuckled, though it was more out of nervousness than anything else. "Yeah, and Alessia's got the map to all of them."

We shared a look, the kind that spoke volumes without saying a word. It was clear that working here was going to be a lot more complicated than just cleaning rooms and serving meals. But for now, we'd survived another round with Alessia, and that was a small victory in itself.