Chapter 3 The East Wing Rules

Elena woke earlier than usual.

Her body was still adjusting to the mansion's silence-no clattering pans, no neighbors shouting, no generators humming. Just cold marble floors, wide hallways, and the weight of expectations sitting on her chest like a brick.

She quickly wore the uniform Mrs. Marlene had laid out. Simple, neat, black-and-white. Nothing like the colorful prints she wore at home.

She tied her hair, inhaled deeply, and stepped into the hallway.

Mrs. Marlene was waiting.

"Good. You're punctual," the older woman said without smiling. "Come. You must learn the rules of the house before Mr. Harrington wakes."

Elena followed her as they walked down a long corridor lined with tasteful paintings-expensive, serious, and void of warmth.

"The staff begin their day at 6:00 a.m.," Mrs. Marlene said. "Breakfast is served for Mr. Harrington at exactly 7:15. Not a minute sooner, not a minute later. He hates disruptions."

"He sounds..." Elena paused, searching for a word that wasn't intimidating.

"Particular," Mrs. Marlene finished.

That wasn't the word Elena wanted, but she nodded.

Mrs. Marlene continued, "Mr. Harrington values privacy. More than you can imagine." She stopped walking and turned to Elena. "So, listen carefully."

Elena straightened. "Yes, ma'am."

"There are areas of the house you are not allowed to enter. Ever."

Elena blinked. "Ever?"

"Ever," Mrs. Marlene repeated. "The first is the East Wing. No cleaning. No dusting. No wandering. Not even passing through."

Elena frowned. "But... why?"

"Because those are the rules."

That wasn't an answer.

It was an order wrapped in mystery.

Mrs. Marlene moved on before Elena could ask more.

"The second rule: Never approach Mr. Harrington unless he initiates the conversation. He dislikes idle chatter. Don't stare at him. He finds it invasive."

Elena felt her cheeks warm.

How were you supposed to work for someone without ever... looking at them?

"The third rule," Mrs. Marlene said, lowering her voice, "Never-under any circumstance-enter the master bedroom."

Elena almost choked. "Why would I enter the master bedroom?"

"People... get curious," Mrs. Marlene said with a knowing tone. "This job pays double what the agency normally offers. And that is because this household has no space for curiosity."

Elena pressed her lips together.

"I understand," she said.

Mrs. Marlene studied her for a moment-long enough to make Elena shift in place-then nodded.

"Good. Come, you'll start with the library."

They walked again.

"You're replacing someone," Mrs. Marlene said.

Elena's steps faltered. "Replacing? What happened to the last maid?"

Mrs. Marlene's expression tightened.

"She left abruptly."

That was all she said.

But her tone said there was more.

Much more.

They reached the library-floor-to-ceiling shelves, a chandelier, and an enormous window overlooking the gardens. It was beautiful in a cold, intimidating way.

Mrs. Marlene handed Elena a small list.

"Dust the shelves, clean the surfaces, wipe the glass. Quietly. Mr. Harrington often works in the study next to this room. Do not make noise."

Elena swallowed. "Okay."

"And Elena..."

She glanced up.

Mrs. Marlene lowered her voice.

"Do not open the door connecting the library to the East Wing. The last maid didn't listen. Don't make the same mistake."

Elena turned slowly.

A single door stood at the far end of the library.

Old.

Dark.

Out of place.

Her heart kicked.

Mrs. Marlene walked away, leaving her alone in the vast room.

Elena exhaled, grabbing a microfiber cloth.

She leaned close to the first shelf...

And froze.

Because from the direction of the East Wing door...

A soft sound echoed.

A faint, dragging whisper.

Like something being moved across the floor.

Or someone.

Elena stepped back, panic prickling her spine.

The noise stopped.

Silence returned.

Then-

Click.

The library door opened behind her.

She spun around-

And there he was.

Adrian Harrington.

Tall. Sharp . Cold.

Dressed in perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his hair still wet from a morning shower, his expression unreadable.

His eyes locked unto Elena.

The room felt smaller.

The air heavier.

He didn't blink.

Didn't smile.

Didn't look away.

And when he finally spoke...

His voice was low and dangerous.

''You''

Elena's knees nearly buckled.

''What were you doing near that door?''