A Scandal in Nueva Aurora

004. Celestial Virtuoso

Chapter 004:
Celestial Virtuoso

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RAINE

Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!

I pressed the doorbell repeatedly at the actor's house, my right pointer finger tapping away as if I found amusement in it. Disguised as the new therapist, I recalled the few sparse details my sister had texted me on our way here—not that it was much help.

Ding! Dong!

"Okay, just let it rest, for goodness's sake. You might break it," Maven whispered to me in a scolding tone.

"Hello?" a voice called from a distance. As the door opened, a woman dressed in simple clothing appeared, her expression curious yet cautious.

"Uh, I'm a therapist, and we just want to—" Charlotte, my disguise, began, but the woman quickly cut me off.

"No one informed me about any therapist coming today. Besides, no one here needs therapy," the woman replied, turning back towards the door. Before she could leave, I quickly stopped her.

I cleared my throat, preparing to speak. "Ma'am, I know you're lying. Don't bother asking how I know—unless you fancy standing there, struggling to keep up with me," I added, adjusting my pink glasses. "See? Now you can guess why I said that."

"Ma'am, he instructed me not to let anyone in. I don't want to upset him," the woman said, though she didn't need to tell me—I could already tell she was the nanny.

"We have golden passes. But please don't mention to him that I'm his therapist—I wanted to surprise him. We're here because he specifically requested us last night after he dismissed Ms. Lauretcha," I said, pulling two golden passes from my pocket and displaying them to her.

She remained silent, swinging the door open. "Come in," the nanny urged, stepping aside to let us pass into the cool interior.

Inside, we were greeted by a spacious living room adorned with furnishings in shades of ash, black, and white. The luxury of the decor was unmistakable, a testament to the wealth that filled the space.

"I'll leave you here for now; I have something to attend to in the kitchen," the maid said before stepping away, leaving us alone in the room.

"Stay here," I whispered to Maven.

"Where are you—" he began, but I interrupted, moving towards the woman before she could slip away.

"Excuse me, ma'am, could you direct me to the loo? I need to go after that long journey," I asked, halting her in her tracks once more.

"Follow me," the nanny said.

I was guided through the quiet hallways, where the decor suggested that the house often welcomed visitors, particularly those my age.

"Just go straight, and that's the bathroom," the maid said before departing. "I'll prepare some coffee for you and..."

"He's my assistant, ma'am," I said, gesturing towards Maven.

I paused a short distance from the bathroom, studying a family photograph nestled among several images of the actor. It depicted an older couple with a young boy of around ten years old. Red paint obscured the parents' eyes, shrouding their faces in an air of mystery.

"Perhaps this is him as a child," I whispered to myself.

A turned-over photograph caught my attention, situated right next to the framed picture but looking more recent.