“I was bringing fresh towels for the master bedroom,” I lied, keeping my hands folded tightly over my apron.

I looked at Marcus Hale.

The attorney sat perfectly still in his leather chair, his gray eyes tracking my movements.

He noticed the slight awkwardness in how I held my arms.

He noticed the way the front of my white apron sagged under the weight of the book.

“The maid has work to do, Luca,” Marcus said, his voice flat and calm.

“Let her go back downstairs to her duties.”

“Not yet,” Luca said.

He stood up from the mahogany desk and walked toward me.

The rain lashed against the tall glass windows of the study, a steady, rhythmic drumming.

Luca stopped a foot away from me.

He smelled of expensive tobacco and wet wool.

“You spend a lot of time in Alexander’s room,” Luca said, tilting his head.

“You were there when the doctor arrived.”

“I was only helping Dr. Voss,” I said.

“Is he going to die?” Luca asked, his voice low and conversational.

“Because if he is, it saves us all a lot of trouble.”