Chapter 10 - The Vault Below
For the rest of the day, Beatrice worked while rage quietly remade itself inside her.
At seven, when Victoria had retreated to the master suite with a bottle of vodka and a phone call full of brittle laughter, Beatrice went to the kitchen.
She made a plate of sliced apples, cheddar cheese, and a warm buttered roll. She tucked Lily’s rescue inhaler into her apron pocket, then hesitated.
No. Lily kept one upstairs too.
Beatrice carried the plate up the back stairs.
She found Lily in the closet of her bedroom, curled beneath a row of small dresses, shaking in the dark.
“Oh, honey,” Beatrice whispered.
Lily crawled into her lap the second Beatrice lowered herself to the floor.
“She said Daddy will send me away,” Lily sobbed into her shoulder. “She said he wants a new family.”
Beatrice closed her arms around the child. “That is a lie.”
“She said I ruined everything when Mommy died.”
Beatrice’s breath caught. Outside, rain tapped the window.
“Look at me,” Beatrice said.
Lily lifted her wet face.
“Your daddy loves you more than this house. More than every car in that garage. More than every man who works for him and every dollar people whisper about. You are not a problem, Lily Rossi. You are his heart walking around outside his chest.”
Lily hiccupped.
“And you are mine too,” Beatrice added softly.
The closet door swung open. Victoria stood there.
Her hair was loose now, her lipstick smudged, her eyes bright with liquor and hatred.
“Well,” she said. “Isn’t this precious?”
Beatrice tried to stand, but Lily clung to her.
“She was hungry,” Beatrice said.
“I gave an order.”
“She’s a child.”
Victoria’s face twisted. “She is a spoiled little parasite who has controlled this house long enough.”
She reached down and grabbed Lily by the arm.
Beatrice moved without thinking. She caught Victoria’s wrist.
The room went silent. Victoria stared at Beatrice’s hand as if a chair had suddenly spoken.
“Let go of me.”
Beatrice’s whole body shook. But she did not let go. “You’re hurting her.”
Victoria smiled. Then she drove her knee into Beatrice’s side.
Pain exploded through Beatrice’s ribs. Her grip loosened. Victoria yanked Lily away and dragged her toward the hall.
“No!” Lily screamed. “Bee!”
Beatrice pushed herself up, gasping.
Victoria pulled the child down the stairs. Lily stumbled, coughing now, panic tightening her lungs.
“Miss Kensington, stop!” Beatrice shouted. “She has asthma!”
Victoria did not slow down. She dragged Lily through the kitchen and opened the heavy iron cellar door.
The wine cellar beneath the Rossi estate had been built like a vault. Thick brick walls. Reinforced door. Soundproofing for storms, parties, and whatever else rich men wanted hidden beneath polished floors.
“Please,” Beatrice begged. “Please, she can’t breathe when she’s scared.”
Victoria shoved Lily onto the top step. “Then she should learn not to be scared.”
Lily screamed as she slipped down several steps and landed hard on the stone below.
Beatrice threw herself toward the door. Victoria slammed it.
Beatrice’s fingers caught between iron and frame. She cried out, falling back as the deadbolt slid into place.
For a moment, pain blinded her. Then she heard Lily coughing behind the door.
Not crying. Coughing.
The sound was thin, frantic, wrong.
“Open it,” Beatrice said.
Victoria looked down at Beatrice’s bruised hand and bloody face. “No.”
“She needs her inhaler.”
“She needs discipline.”
“She could die.”
Victoria’s expression did not change. “Then she should have thought of that before disobeying me.”
Something inside Beatrice went still.
Victoria leaned close.
“You’re fired. Pack whatever sad little things you own and get out. If you speak one word to the guards, I’ll tell Leo you attacked me and locked Lily down there yourself.”
Beatrice stared at her.
May you like
Victoria smiled as if she had already won. “Who do you think he’ll believe? His fiancée, or an overweight maid with blood on her uniform?”
Then Victoria walked away.
