Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind the Bookshelf
Adrien turned his back on her.
He walked toward the massive floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on the far wall.
He reached out.
Grabbed a heavy leather-bound volume of Shakespeare.
And pulled it.
With a heavy, mechanical click, the entire bookcase slid inward.
Revealing a hidden staircase plunging down into darkness.
Maya gasped.
She dropped her microfiber cloth.
It hit the floor with a soft thud.
“What is that?” Maya breathed.
“A vault,” Adrien replied flatly, pulling a small silver key from his pocket.
“And tonight, you are going to help me audit it.”
“Audit it? I am a housekeeper, Mr. Moretti. Not an accountant for the mafia.”
“You are whatever I say you are, Maya.”
Adrien gestured toward the dark stairs.
“After you.”
Maya swallowed hard.
She stepped past him.
The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, wrapping around her like smoke.
She descended the stone steps cautiously.
Adrien followed right behind her.
His footsteps echoing like a metronome of doom.
At the bottom of the stairs, a heavy iron door stood ajar.
Faint blue light spilled out from inside.
Maya pushed the iron door open.
Inside lay a sprawling subterranean chamber.
Filled not with gold or diamonds.
But with files, laptops, and corkboards covered in red strings.
Names.
Faces.
Secrets.
Maya stopped dead in her tracks.
“Why are you showing me this?” she whispered, turning to face him.
“Because someone in my inner circle is leaking information to the Rossetti syndicate,” Adrien said, his eyes locking onto hers.
“And you were the only person in the entire mansion who wandered into the conference room uninvited.”
“You think I am a spy?” Maya demanded, her eyes flashing with anger.
“I think,” Adrien stepped closer, cornering her gently against a steel filing cabinet, “that you are either the worst spy in history, or the only innocent person in this entire city.”
Maya’s breath hitched.
Their faces were inches apart.
She could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes.
“I clean toilets, Mr. Moretti,” she whispered fiercely.
“I do not spy.”
May you like
“Prove it,” Adrien challenged.
“Help me find the traitor.”
