The Price Of Us

The sprawling mansion stood at the edge of the city like a beast waiting to devour the unwary. It loomed over the hills, surrounded by wrought-iron gates and acres of perfectly manicured lawns that whispered secrets under the night's breeze. I'd heard the rumors about this place-about him. Adrian Moretti, the ruthless mafia boss who ruled over the city's underworld like a king.

I had no business being here, but desperation made people do foolish things. My father's debts had piled up, my younger brother needed his school fees paid, and the bakery job I'd worked since I was seventeen barely kept the lights on. So when I heard the Moretti estate was hiring staff, I ignored every warning bell in my mind and applied.

The first rule I learned was to keep my head down.

The other maids whispered it to me when I was introduced to the staff-a group of nervous-looking women who darted around the house as if trying to avoid being noticed. "Don't speak unless spoken to," Maria, the head maid, had said. "And for God's sake, stay out of Mr. Moretti's way."

I tried to follow those rules, but the house had a strange way of pulling you into its depths.

My first encounter with Adrian Moretti happened three weeks after I started. I had been tasked with dusting the library, a cavernous room filled with shelves that stretched to the ceiling. The scent of old books and leather lingered in the air, and I let myself enjoy the rare moment of peace. But then I heard voices-deep, angry voices coming from the adjoining study.

I froze, my feather duster hovering over a stack of books.

"You let them get away?" Adrian's voice was like velvet dipped in steel. It sent a shiver down my spine, even through the heavy door.

"They were tipped off," another man replied. "We think it might've been someone from inside."

"Find them," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a low growl. "And if it's an insider, make an example out of them."

The room fell silent, but my heart raced. I shouldn't have been there. I knew that much. Just as I was about to tiptoe out, the door swung open.

Adrian Moretti stood in the doorway, his dark eyes locking onto mine. He was taller than I expected, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could have been chiseled from marble. He wore a black suit that clung to his broad shoulders, but it was the intensity in his gaze that made me freeze.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was low, dangerous.

"I-I was cleaning," I stammered, holding up the feather duster like a shield.

His gaze flicked to the duster, then back to me. "And you just happened to be cleaning outside my office?"

I shook my head, words failing me. My pulse pounded in my ears as he took a step closer, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud.

"Did you hear anything?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"No," I lied, the word tumbling out too quickly.

His lips curved into a smile that wasn't really a smile. It was sharp and cold, like a knife's edge. "Good. Because if you did, you'd regret it."

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

"Go," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "And stay out of places you don't belong."

I didn't need to be told twice. I fled the library, my hands trembling as I gripped the feather duster. But as I hurried down the hall, I couldn't shake the feeling that Adrian Moretti was watching me.

That night, as I lay in my small room on the servants' floor, I replayed the encounter in my mind. His voice, his gaze, the way he seemed to see straight through me-it was all burned into my memory. I knew I should be afraid of him, and I was, but there was something else, too.

Something that whispered to me from the shadows of my mind.

I should've left it alone. But the next day, when I returned to the library, I noticed a drawer slightly ajar in one of the desks. Curiosity got the better of me, and before I could talk myself out of it, I opened it.

Inside was a small, leather-bound book with pages covered in neat, coded writing. I didn't understand what I was looking at, but I knew it wasn't meant to be found.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder with each passing second.

Panic surged through me as I slammed the drawer shut and hurried to grab my duster, pretending to work just as Adrian Moretti stepped into the room.

His eyes swept over me, sharp and calculating. "You again."

My heart stopped.

Adrian's gaze pinned me in place, his presence filling the room like a shadow I couldn't escape. I clutched the feather duster tightly, my fingers trembling around the wooden handle.

"Yes, sir," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I was asked to clean the library today."

His eyes narrowed as he approached, the soft sound of his shoes against the polished floor growing louder with each step. I resisted the urge to back away, knowing it would only make me look guilty.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of places you don't belong?" His voice was soft, but the threat in his tone was unmistakable.

I swallowed hard, my pulse thundering in my ears. "I was only doing my job."

He stopped a few feet away, his towering frame casting a long shadow over me. His dark eyes studied me with unnerving intensity, as if trying to uncover a secret I wasn't ready to share.

"Your job," he repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the desk I had just been rifling through.

Panic surged through me. Had I left something out of place? Had I closed the drawer all the way?

"You're nervous," he said, his sharp gaze snapping back to me.

"I'm not," I blurted, too quickly.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "You're a terrible liar," he said, his tone almost casual.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

He stepped closer, and I felt the air around me grow heavy. "I don't like liars, Elena."

The sound of my name falling from his lips sent a shiver down my spine. I hadn't even realized he knew it.

"I'm not lying," I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

For a long moment, he said nothing. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating, until finally, he turned away.

"Get back to work," he said over his shoulder as he walked toward the desk. "And remember what I told you. Stay out of places you don't belong."

"Yes, sir," I murmured, relief flooding through me as I hurried toward the door.

Just as I reached the threshold, his voice stopped me in my tracks.

"And Elena," he said, his tone colder than it had been before.

I turned to find him standing by the desk, his hand resting on the closed drawer where I had found the ledger. His dark eyes met mine, and I knew, somehow, that he wasn't fooled by my lies.

"Don't make me regret letting you stay."

I nodded quickly, then slipped out of the room before he could say anything else.

That night, I lay awake in bed, my thoughts spinning. I had made a mistake by touching that ledger, and I knew it. Adrian Moretti was dangerous, and if he ever found out what I had done, there would be no forgiveness.

But despite my fear, I couldn't stop thinking about him. The way his eyes seemed to see through me. The way he carried himself with the kind of confidence that came from knowing the world was at his feet.

And the ledger.

What secrets did it hold? Why had it been hidden away in the library?

I should have let it go. I should have kept my head down like Maria had told me to. But something about Adrian and the world he inhabited drew me in, like a moth to a flame.

I didn't realize it then, but that moment-standing in the library with Adrian Moretti's dark eyes staring into mine-was the beginning of something I couldn't escape.

Something that would change my life forever.