Chapter 7 - THE CHRISTMAS EVE GUESTS
By eight o’clock, the snow had stopped, leaving the grounds of the Grimaldi estate buried under a pristine, silent blanket of white.
Inside, the mansion was alive with the low murmur of politicians, judges, and high-ranking corporate executives mingling by the roaring fireplaces.
Senator Vance stood near the grand piano, holding a glass of champagne, laughing loudly at a joke told by the chief of police.
I sat in the small, quiet study off the main hall, wearing a simple woolen sweater Nicholas had had Luca fetch from my locker in the staff quarters.
The door opened.
Nicholas walked in, loosening his black silk tie.
"They're asking for you," he said.
"Who?"
"The senator. The chief. They noticed the head housekeeper is missing, and they want to know who prepared the catering table."
I stood up, smoothing the front of my sweater. "I can't go out there looking like this. I'm not dressed for guests."
"You aren't going out there as staff," Nicholas said, closing the distance between us. "You are going out there as my guest."
Before I could protest, he offered me his arm.
When we stepped through the double doors into the grand ballroom, fifty conversations ground to an absolute, grinding halt.
He didn't take me to the kitchen.
He led me straight to the center of the room, right in front of Senator Vance.
"Senator," Nicholas said smoothly, his hand resting securely at the small of my back. "May I introduce Emily Monroe. My future wife."
May you like
The senator’s champagne glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the parquet floor in a shower of crystal and white foam.
---
