Alessandro sat motionless in the dim blue light of his office monitors. The video timestamp read 01:14 AM. On screen, the heavy oak door of the east wing nursery creaked open without a sound.

Over the next month, an unusual routine established itself within the fortress-like estate. Every evening at 9:00 PM, Elena would walk Mia to the east wing nursery. Mia would spend twenty minutes humming her nonsensical tunes, placing Mabel in the crib until Sophia drifted off to sleep, before Elena carried her back.

Alessandro began making a point of being present during those visits.

He observed Elena—her gentle nature, her sharp intelligence, and the fierce protectiveness she held for her child. Slowly, the cold barrier between the master of the house and the staff began to erode.

One evening, while the children were resting, Alessandro offered Elena a seat in the nursery ante-room.

"Your husband," Alessandro began abruptly, looking over a glass of amber liquid. "How did he die?"

Elena swallowed hard, unused to him asking personal questions. "Cancer. Three years ago. The hospital bills consumed everything we had. When he passed, the collection agencies sold the debt to... predatory men."

Alessandro’s eyes darkened. "What kind of men?"

"Men who don't care about legal limits," Elena whispered, her hands clasped in her lap. "That’s why I took this job. The gates. The security. I needed a place where they couldn't reach us."

Alessandro took a sip of his drink, his voice dropping into a dangerous calm. "Give me their names."