Chapter 3 - A Maid No More
The West Wing master suite was a place Beatrice had only ever seen through the narrow opening of a vacuum cleaner nozzle.
It featured soaring twenty-foot ceilings with hand-painted gold leaf, broad arched windows overlooking Lake Michigan, and a king-sized four-poster bed draped in ivory Egyptian linen.
When Beatrice woke up the next morning, the sun was pouring through the heavy velvet drapes, casting a warm golden light across the room.
Her face throbbed with a dull, manageable ache. Her split lip was covered in a soothing medicinal salve. Her right wrist was neatly wrapped in soft white gauze.
Sitting on the edge of the massive mattress, staring at her with wide, clear brown eyes, was Lily.
The little girl was wearing her favorite yellow pajamas. She had her stuffed rabbit held tight under one arm, and in her other hand, she held a small glass of ice water with a straw.
“Bee,” Lily whispered softly.
Beatrice’s heart melted. She pushed herself up against the plush pillows, wincing slightly. “Good morning, princess. What time is it?”
“Morning,” Lily repeated, carefully handing the glass of water to Beatrice. “Daddy made breakfast.”
The bedroom door clicked open, and Leo walked in.
He was stripped of his formal suit, wearing a dark cashmere sweater and black trousers. He carried a silver tray laden with fresh croissants, sliced strawberries, poached eggs, and a pot of steaming black coffee.
Behind him walked a young woman wearing a sleek leather shoulder bag.
“How are you feeling?” Leo asked, setting the tray down on the marble nightstand beside the bed.
“I... I feel much better, thank you,” Beatrice said, trying to pull the silk duvet up to her collarbone, suddenly hyper-aware of how large she looked in the delicate ivory bed. “Leo, you really didn't have to do all this. I can go back to my room in the basement—”
“That room is currently being emptied,” Leo interrupted calmly, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to her. “Your things are being moved to the guest wardrobe in the adjacent room. You won't be returning to the basement.”
Beatrice blinked, holding the warm porcelain cup in her hands. “I don't understand.”
Leo gestured to the woman standing behind him. “This is Miss Clara. She’s the top private buyer from Saks Fifth Avenue. She’s here to take your measurements and restock your wardrobe.”
Beatrice nearly choked on her coffee. “My... my what?”
“You are no longer a member of the domestic staff, Beatrice,” Leo said, leaning against the bedpost with his arms crossed. “Starting today, your official title is Director of Household Operations and Personal Companion to my daughter. Your salary will be ten times what you were making as a maid.”
Beatrice stared at him in utter shock. “Ten times? Leo, I don't know anything about running an estate! I just know how to clean grease off stoves and fold fitted sheets!”
“You know how to keep my daughter alive,” Leo said, his dark eyes softening into something infinitely tender. “That makes you more qualified than anyone who has ever stepped foot in this house.”
Lily giggled, climbing onto the bed and resting her head against Beatrice’s hip. “Bee stays.”
Leo reached out and gently touched Lily’s curls, his gaze staying glued to Beatrice’s face. “Yes, baby. Bee stays.”
Before Beatrice could process the staggering turn her life had taken in less than twelve hours, the quiet peace of the bedroom was shattered by the heavy sound of boots marching down the hallway outside.
Mateo appeared in the doorway, his face dark with tension.
“Boss,” Mateo said softly.
Leo didn't turn around immediately. “What is it?”
“Arthur Kensington is at the front gate,” Mateo said. “He brought four city police cruisers and three corporate lawyers. He says if we don't release Victoria in five minutes, he’s going to have the State Attorney issue an arrest warrant for kidnapping.”
Beatrice felt a cold spike of panic shoot through her chest. “The Senator... he’s going to destroy you, Leo. Everyone knows he controls the judges in Chicago.”
Leo slowly turned toward Mateo. His expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened until the muscles near his ear twitched.
“Tell Arthur Kensington to come inside,” Leo said coldly. “Let him bring his lawyers.”
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He looked down at Beatrice and smiled a dark, dangerous smile.
“It’s time the Senator learned who really owns this city.”
