Milene's POV
The soft morning light filtered into my room, but I didn't feel rested. I had barely slept too much on my mind, too many questions. What exactly had mum gotten us into or should I say me?
A knock on the door jolted me out of bed. Before I could answer, Mara stepped in.
"Mr. Moretti requests your presence downstairs," she said. "He wants to introduce you to the staff."
Introduce me?
I nodded silently and slipped into the clothes, she laid out a simple white blouse and tailored black slacks. It was modest but expensive. My hands traced the lines of the stitch and from it I felt out of place. I am supposed to be used to clothing like this but I had long abandoned them because of the debts. I could also so I wore more tailored clothes like this to tea parties than I did roaming around my father's mansion.
Mara led me through the hallways again, I followed her close and the sound of our steps echoed in the hallways. As we entered the main foyer, I saw them, the staff. Lined up in a neat row, the ladies came first before the men and it almost seemed like they were lined up according to how tall each person was.
There were about ten of them: both the men and women, all dressed in black and white uniforms. They held a blank expression that also seemed respectful. I could tell from their looks that most of them weren't in the same age bracket because there were only two young staff with couple of old staffs.
Angelo stood at the center, his presence commanding the room without a word. He was dressed in a sharp navy suit.
"Sir, here is your coffee..." Mara said before going to join the rest of the staff on the straight line thar had been created.
I had totally forgotten about her until she showed up again.
"This," he said, turning toward me, "is Milene."
Just Milene. No last name. No explanation. I wondered if they knew more about me than I did.
"She will be staying here," he continued. "Permanently. Treat her with the same respect you would treat me."
His voice was calm but absolute.
A middle-aged man at the far left gave a slight bow. "Of course, sir."
"This is Carlo," Angelo said, gesturing toward him. "He has been with the family for ages, does the garden work. If you feel bored upstairs you can go to him to teach you a thing or two about flowers or go read something in the garden... the house library will be open to you."
I nodded politely.
Next, he motioned toward a short woman with kind eyes. "Elisa, head of housekeeping. She manages the west wing, so you'll see her often."
"Pleasure to meet you," Elisa said softly, with a small smile. I returned it, grateful for even a hint of warmth.
"And you already know Mara," Angelo finished, casting her a brief glance.
There was silence again, then he turned to me.
"If you need anything, ask them. But remember you're not a guest. You're here because of an agreement. One that still hasn't been explained to you."
I flinched at his bluntness.
"I'm aware," I murmured, trying to sound composed.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You'll find out everything soon. But for now, keep your head down, stay out of the restricted areas, and don't test me."
It wasn't a threat.
It was a rule.
A soft buzz from his phone pulled his attention. He glanced at the screen, then slipped it into his pocket.
"I have to go. Carlo will give you a brief tour of the estate. After that, stay in your wing unless summoned."
He turned, walking away without looking back.
Carlo approached me. "Shall we?"
I turned to Carlo who had a bright smile on his face but somehow, I could not return the smile because my insides were now in a twist.
"Breathe..." I heard Carlo's voice again
I did not realize that I had been holding my breath in, more so I did not think anyone could be as observant as this old man. How did he know?
"I need to have my breakfast first," I replied.
I wasn't hungry just yet; eating was the last thing on my mind right now. I just wanted to speak to my mum about this whole arrangement thing before I lose my mind trying to place pieces together.
Carlo was still standing beside me while the other workers had gone on with their day. I stared at him with my eyebrows slightly raised. "I will find my way to you when I am done here." I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Carlo gave me a slight nod before walking off.
The moment he disappeared, I turned on my heel and hurried back toward the west wing. I needed to speak with mum.
I pulled out my phone as soon as I stepped back into my room. I needed to know what kind of deal she had made. What exactly I was "paying" for.
I tapped her number and held the phone to my ear. Nothing. No ringtone. I glanced at the signal bar completely empty. I moved around the room, holding the phone higher, even tried standing by the massive window. Still no service.
A knot twisted in my chest.
Not giving up yet, I stormed out of the room and headed down the hall, stopping when I spotted Mara arranging fresh towels on a side table.
"Mara," I called, my voice firmer than I expected.
She looked up, calm and collected as always. "Yes, Miss Milene?"
"My phone's not working. There's no service here. Can I use yours? Or the landline?"
She blinked slowly, almost as if she expected this. "Phones are not permitted while we are on duty. Staff members are only allowed to use personal devices during their scheduled breaks, outside the main house."
"No one has a phone here?" I asked, disbelief rising in my throat.
"Not while working. And there is no active landline accessible to guests or staff. Only Mr. Moretti's private line is active within the estate."
I stared at her, stunned. "So, I'm cut off?"
"I wouldn't say that," she replied gently. "You just have to be patient."
I stepped back, the weight of the situation crashing down harder than before.