<b>Chapter </b><b>84 </b>
CELINE-
<b>20 </b>
I woke up to silence.
Not the peaceful kind of silence that came with a sleeping house, but the wrong kind. The kind that made my mother’s instincts scream in rm.
Ceasar’s bed was empty.
I bolted upright, my heart hammering against my ribs as I stumbled toward his small bedroom in our staff quarters. The dinosaur sheets were cold, undisturbed. His favorite stuffed elephant sat abandoned on the pillow.
“Ceasar?” I called out, my voice cracking. “Baby, where are you?”
Nothing.
I threw on my robe and raced through our tiny living space, checking every corner, every hiding spot where a three–year–old mis
bathroom. The kitchen. Behind the couch.
Empty. All empty. <ol start="3"><li>The </li></ol>
My hands shook as I grabbed my phone, ready to call the police, when I saw the note propped against the coffee pot, Elegant handwriting on expensive
cream stationery.
‘Miss Brown,‘
‘Ceasar is with me for the day. Do not concern yourself with his whereabouts. He is perfectly safe.’
‘Mrs. Eleanor Reid‘
The paper fluttered to the floor as my knees gave out.
She knew.
Somehow, some way, Mrs. Reid knew about Ceasar. About Hunter. About everything.
And she had taken my sori.
I don’t remember getting dressed or running through the mansion’s corridors. I only remember bursting into the main kitchen where Sally, the head maid, was directing the morning preparations.
“Sally!” I gasped, still clutching my phone. “Mrs. Reid…she took Ceasar…I need to know where…”
Sally’s stern face hardened into disapproval. “Lower your voice, girl. This is a respectable household.”
“You don’t understand,” I said desperately. “My son is gone, Mrs. Reid left a note, but I don’t know where she took him or why…”
“Mrs. Reid doesn’t owe you exnations,” Sally snapped, her gray hair pulled back so tightly it seemed to stretch her features. “If she wanted the <b>boy’s </bpany for the day, that’s her business.”
“He’s three years old!” My voice pitched higher despite her warning. “He doesn’t know her! He’ll be scared and confused…”
“Enough.” Sally’s wooden spoon pointed at me like a weapon. “You’re being hysterical Mrs. Reid is a mother herself. She knows how <b>to </b><b>handle </b>children.
The other staff members had stopped their work to stare. Ana<b>, </b>a sharp–faced maid who had never liked me, smirked from <b>her </b>position <b>by </b><b>the </b><b>pantry</b>.
Elise<b>, </b>usually kind
ufortable but said nothing.
16:47 <b>Sat</b><b>, </b><b>2 </b>Aug
“Get back to work,” Sallymanded. “All of you. And Miss Brown, you have the third floor windows to clean. I suggest you focus on <b>your </b>duties instead of imagining problems where none exist.”
I wanted to scream. It shook her until she understood that this wasn’t normal, that wealthy women didn’t just take their employees‘ children for mysterious day trips.
But I was just the maid. And they were right–I had no power
here.
I stumbled through my morning tasks in a haze of panic. The windows went uncleaned as I stared out at the empty driveway, willing Mrs. Reid’s ck Mercedes to appear.
I knocked over a vase of flowers while dusting and spent twenty minutes on my hands and knees cleaning up water and broken porcin.
When Sally found me scrubbing the same bathroom mirror for the third time, she exploded.
“What is wrong with you today?” she demanded. “You’re making more work than you’repleting! First the vase, then you used furniture polish on <b>the </b>
leather sofa….”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m just worried about…”
“About nothing!” Sally’s voice echoed off the marble walls. “Mrs. Reid is a pir of society. If she wanted to spend time with y grateful, not paranoid.”
, you should be
Ana appeared in the doorway, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Maybe she’s just not used to people wanting to be around her kid,” she said with false
sweetness.
“Must be a shock.”
I turned to stare at her, something cold settling in my stomach. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Ana said, but her smile was sharp. “Just that some of us have noticed things. The way you’ve been actingtely. Like you think you’re special.”
“I don’t think….” <fne01c> N?w ?ovel chapt?rs are published on FindN0vel</fne01c>
“The way you look at Mr. Hunter,” she continued, her voice dropping to a poisonous whisper. “Like you have any right to him.”
Sally’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about, Ana?”
“Oh,e on,” Anaughed. “We’ve all seen it. The morning. The blushing whenever he’s around. Poor girl thinks she can bewitch a man like that with her innocent act.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but before I could respond, my phone rang.
Caroline.
I answered on the first ring, barely managing a hello before the words tumbled out. “Caroline, thank God. Your aunt took Ceasar and I don’t know where or why and no one will tell me anything….”
“Whoa, slow down,” Caroline’s voice was warm but concerned. “Aunt Eleanor took Ceasar? When?”
“This morning. I woke up and he was gone and there was just this note….”
“Celine, breathe. I’m sure it’s fine. Aunt Eleanor can be… difficult, but she wouldn’t hurt a child. Maybe she just found him charming, Kids have <b>a </b>way <b>of </b>melting even the coldest hearts.”
“<b>But </b>why wouldn’t she ask me first? Why také him without permission?”
<b>There </b>was a pause. “I don’t know. But listen, I’ll call Hunter and…”
16:48 Sat, 2 Aug
“No!” The word came out sharper than I intended. “Don’t involve Hunter. Please. He’s in London on business and this will just….”
“Celine.” Caroline’s voice was gentle but firm. “If my aunt took your son without permission, Hunter needs to know. Especially if…”
She trailed off, but I could hear the unspoken words. Especially if she suspected something about Ceasar’s parentage.
“Please,” I whispered, aware that Sally and Ana were listening to every word. “Just… give me a little more time. Maybe she’ll bring him back soon.”
62%
“I’ll give you until six,” Caroline said. “If he’s not back by then, I’m calling Hunter. I’ll also call Aunt Eleanor and casually ask what she’s up to today. Maybe I can get some information.”
After I hung up, the kitchen fell silent except for the tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
“Well,” Ana said finally, “that was illuminating.”
“Get back to work,” Sally snapped, but her gaze lingered on me with new suspicion.
The rest of the day crawled by with agonizing slowness. Every car that passed on the road outside made my heart skip. Ever toward the sound. But none brought news of Ceasar.
ring sent me racing
By five o’clock, I was jumping at shadows. By six, I was pacing the kitchen like a caged animal, ignoring Sally’s increasingly i
At seven–fifteen, just as I was about to call the police myself, I heard the purr of an expensive engine in the driveway.
Iran.
Ledmands.
I didn’t care that Sally shouted after me, didn’t care that Ana and the others followed to watch the show.
I burst through the front doors and down the marble steps just as Baron, Mrs. Reid’s driver, was opening the rear door of the ck Mercedes.
Mrs. Reid emerged first, every silver hair in ce despite the long day. She looked cool and collected in her tailored Chanel dress, her emerald ne catching the evening light.
And there, sleeping peacefully in her arms, was my son.
Relief crashed over me so violently that I nearly copsed. Ceasar looked fine…more than fine. He was wearing new clothes, expensive ones, and his face was clean and peaceful in sleep.
“Ceasar,” I breathed, stepping forward.
“Miss Brown.” Mrs. Reid’s voice could have frozen fire. “How dramatic of you to meet us outside.”
Baron was unloading shopping bags from the trunk…dozens of them from high–end children’s stores. Toys, clothes, books, things that probably cost more than I made in six months.
“Is he…is he alright?” I asked, my voice smaller than I wanted it to be.
“Of course he’s alright.” Mrs. Reid’s tone suggested I was an idiot for asking. “He’s been perfectly well–behaved all day. Such a charming child.”
The way she said it….charming….sent a chill down my spine. There was something proprietary in her voice, something that made every maternal instinct I had bristle.
“I had a lovely day with my…” she paused meaningfully, “…grandson.”
The word hit me like a physical blow. Behind me, I heard Ana’s sharp intake of breath, and Sally’s muttered oath.
She knew. She definitely knew.
“I understa
Hunter in London,” Mrs. Reid continued, her smile sharp as broken ss.
162 <b>Muy </b>
“How unnecessarily dramatic. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised….dramatics do seem to run in certain… bloodlines.”
“I was worried,” I managed. “You didn’t ask p
permission….”
<b>26 </b>
“Permission?” Mrs. Reid’sugh was like ice cracking. “To spend time with my own blood? How quaint,”
She stepped closer<b>, </b>still holding my sleeping son, and her voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more threat than any shout.
“Let me be very clear, Miss Brown. That boy is a Reid. He carries Reid’s blood, Reid’s intelligence, and Reid’s potential. <i>And </i>you…” Her gaze raked over me dismissively.
“You are nothing but an unfortunate obstacle.”
THE
Before I could respond, before I could process the full meaning of her words, her free hand cracked across my cheek with enough force to snap my head
to the side.
Gasps echoed from the assembled staff behind me. My face burned, but not as much as the humiliation that flooded through me.
“That,” Mrs. Reid said calmly, “is for involving my son in your hysterics. For calling him away from important business because emotions.”
Tears stùng my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of her. Not in front of the staff who were watching this like dinner theater.
control your
“I was right,” Mrs. Reid continued, and I could hear the smugness in the other maid’s voice behind me. “You have been trying to bewitch my son. Using your feminine wiles and your child to trap a man far above your station.”
“I haven’t….” I started.
“Silence.” Themand was sharp enough to cut ss. “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”
Baron approached carefully, his kind eyes apologetic as he gently took Ceasar from Mrs. Reid’s arms and handed him to me.
My son stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small body warm and solid against my chest.
“The boy will continue to spend time with me,” Mrs. Reid announced to the assembled audience. “Regr visits. I have much to teach him about his heritage, his proper ce in this world.”
“He’s my son,” I whispered, the words barely audible.
“He’s a Reid,” she corrected coldly. “And it’s time he learned what that means.”
With that, she swept past me into the mansion, leaving me standing in the driveway with my sleeping child and the burning mark of her hand on my
cheek.
Ana pushed past the other staff members, her face alight with malicious glee,
“Well, well,” she said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Looks like our little Cindere isn’t so innocent after all. Bewitching the master and birthing his bastard. How… predictable.”
“That’s enough,” Sally said sharply, but even she looked at me with new eyes. Calcting eyes.
I clutched Ceasar tighter and walked toward our quarters, my head held high despite the whispers that followed in my wake.
But as I closed our door behind us and finally let the tears fall, I knew something fundamental had shifted.
Mrs. Reid had dered war.
And I had <b>no </b>idea how fight back.
<b>4/5 </b>
<b>16:48 </b><b>Sat</b>, <b>2 </b><b>Aug </b>
But as I looked down at my sleeping son….my beautiful, innocent boy who deserved so much better than this–I knew I had to try.
For him, I would find a way to fight.
Even if it destroyed me in the process.
AD