He had missed this.
That was the part Luca could not forgive.
Not yet.
He led Nora through the hall toward the front of the house.
At the turn near the library, she slowed.
“What is it?”
She looked toward the staircase.
“Mama will wake up.”
“Where is she?”
“Our room.”
“Show me.”
Nora hesitated.
“Mr. Harland said staff rooms are private.”
Luca stopped.
“Did he say private from me?”
She nodded.
Something cold moved through him that had nothing to do with the laundry sink.
The house belonged to Luca.
The staff wing had been renovated six years earlier precisely because he disliked servants sleeping in closets and basement rooms the way they had in the house where he grew up.
He had approved larger bedrooms.
Private bathrooms.
A small common kitchen.
He had inspected them after construction.
Then stopped looking.
He had assumed policy remained reality because paper said it did.
“Take me to your mother.”
Nora led him upstairs.
The staff corridor looked normal until he reached the end.
One door had a strip of tape over the latch.
Not locked.
Marked.
Nora pushed it open.
Elena Marquez lay on a narrow bed beneath two blankets.
Her face was flushed.
A wastebasket sat beside the mattress.
Half a glass of water stood on the floor.
The radiator was cold.
Luca touched it.
Nothing.
He turned.
“Nora, has the heat been off long?”
She shrugged.
“Mama says sweaters are free.”
Luca closed his eyes.
“Stay here.”
He stepped into the hallway and called his physician.
Not because Elena worked for him.
Because she looked ill enough to need assessment.
Then he called the building engineer.
“Staff wing radiator circuit.”
A pause.
“Sir?”
“Check it now.”
“It was shut down last week.”
Luca’s voice went very quiet.
“Why?”
“Mr. Harland said occupancy had dropped and it was wasteful to heat the whole line.”
“How many people live here?”
“Six staff members currently.”
“Turn it on.”
“Immediately.”
Luca ended the call.
Nora stood behind him holding the towel around her hands.
“Am I in trouble?”
He crouched.
“No.”
“Is Mama?”
“No.”
“Mr. Harland said—”
“Mr. Harland is not making decisions about your mother today.”
Her eyes widened.
“Did he get fired?”
“I haven’t spoken to him yet.”
“Are you going to yell?”
Luca considered that.
“No.”
She looked disappointed.
Children have a straightforward sense of justice.
Luca stood.
“Stay with your mother until the doctor comes.”
“Can I finish your shirt?”
“No.”
“But the stain—”
“I own other shirts.”
That seemed to surprise her.
He left before she could negotiate.
Harland was in Luca’s office.
Exactly where Nora had said.
He sat behind Luca’s desk reviewing payroll reports.
When Luca entered, Harland looked up.
“You’re early.”
Luca closed the door.
“Yes.”
Harland smiled.
“City meeting go badly?”
“Apparently not as badly as things here.”
The smile faded.
Luca placed the soaked shirt on the desk.
Blue water spread slowly across the papers.
Harland stood.
“What happened?”
“A three-year-old washed it.”
Harland stared.
“What?”
“In ice water.”
“I don’t understand.”
“That is becoming obvious.”
Harland looked toward the door.
“Elena brought her child into the laundry?”
“No.”
Luca leaned forward.
“Elena is sick in her room. Nora heard you tell her that people who don’t work cannot stay here. So the child came downstairs to work in her place.”
Harland’s expression shifted.
Not guilt.
Annoyance.
“That was not intended literally.”
“She is three.”
“I spoke to Elena, not the child.”
“The child heard you.”
Harland spread his hands.
“Luca, household staff have responsibilities. Elena has missed five shifts in six weeks.”
“Why?”
“Personal problems. Illness. Childcare. There is always something.”
“Did you document medical leave?”
“She doesn’t qualify for extended leave under the household contract.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Harland’s jaw tightened.
“I manage the property because you hired me to manage it.”
“Yes.”
“And I cannot run it if employees decide attendance is optional.”
Luca looked at him.
“How long has the heat been off in the staff wing?”
Harland went still.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“That has nothing to do with Elena.”
“How long?”
“A week.”
“Why?”
“Energy costs.”
Luca almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
“Energy costs.”
“The wing is underutilized.”
“Six people live there.”
“Six staff members.”
The distinction landed.
Staff members.
Not people.
Luca remembered his father saying similar things.
The kitchen boys.
The cleaners.
The drivers.
Roles first.
Humans second.
“Who authorized it?”
“I did.”
“Did you tell facilities the rooms were occupied?”
Harland’s face hardened.
“I was within my operating authority.”
Again.
Not an answer.
Luca pressed the intercom.
“Mrs. Bell.”
His executive housekeeper answered.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti?”
“Come to my office.”
Harland looked irritated.
“Maria has nothing to do with this.”
“We’ll find out.”
Maria Bell entered three minutes later.
Sixty-two.
