Chapter 6 - Whispers in the Pantry
Working in the east wing brought a strange new rhythm to Adeline’s life. Her tasks were meticulous: organizing historical documents, cataloging Alio’s private art collection, and serving his meals when he worked late into the night.
Alio was a man of few words, but his presence was overwhelming. He was fiercely disciplined, working eighteen-hour days, making decisions that affected thousands of lives with a calm, unyielding precision. Yet, in the quiet late-night hours when it was just the two of them in the vast office, Adeline saw subtle glimpses of a different man—a man who quietly funded orphanages across the state, who paid full pensions to the families of fallen workers, and who carried the crushing weight of an empire on his shoulders.
Despite her protection in the east wing, the rest of the mansion was becoming a powder keg.
Camille Thorne visited the estate three times a week, her presence growing increasingly hostile. She was infuriated by Adeline's promotion, viewing it as a direct insult from Alio.
One afternoon, while Alio was away in the city attending a board meeting, Adeline went down to the basement kitchen to collect a fresh carafe of iced tea.
As she entered the pantry, she heard raised voices near the wine cellar.
"You promised me it would look like an accident!" Camille’s furious voice echoed softly against the stone walls.
Adeline froze, pressing her back against a heavy wooden shelving unit lined with preserves.
"I did what you asked, Miss Thorne," a man's voice replied—a voice Adeline instantly recognized as the cleaning crew supervisor who had inspected the broken ladder. "I sawed the rung just like you said. How was I supposed to know Vicaro would call off the entire party and lock down the gallery?"
"You incompetent fool!" Camille hissed. "Now he’s got guards on the east wing, and he moved that pathetic maid into his private office! She’s in there every day while I’m kept at arm’s length!"
"I need my money, Miss Thorne. My brother’s debt to the Vicaro family—"
"You’ll get your money when the job is finished!" Camille snapped. "The Senator is losing patience. We need that shipping ledger before the end of the month, or the wedding is off, and your brother goes to the bottom of the river. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Miss Thorne..."
Adeline held her breath, her chest tight with terror. She waited until the sound of Camille’s sharp heels faded up the stairs before she dared to move.
She turned to leave the pantry, but as she stepped into the hallway, a heavy hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, spinning her around.
It was the supervisor. His eyes were wide with panic, his face pale and sweating.
"You heard," he whispered, his grip tightening on her arm, bruising her skin. "You heard everything."
"Let me go!" Adeline gasped, struggling against his grip.
"If you tell Vicaro, I’m a dead man!" the supervisor growled, pulling a small pocket knife from his belt. "And you won't live to see your sister again!"
Before the blade could open, a shadow fell over them both.
A heavy iron frying pan came down with deafening force against the side of the supervisor's head. The man collapsed instantly onto the stone floor, unconscious.
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Standing behind him was Birdie, holding the copper pan, her breathing heavy but her hands completely steady.
"I told you," Birdie said calmly, stepping over the fallen man, "down here in this kitchen, we take care of our own. Come on, girl. We’re going to the boss."
