Silence hung between them like a thick fog.
Carlo's eyes were locked on Jane's phone. His jaw clenched. "Tell him the truth before I do," he read out loud. "Who's sending you this?"
Jane slowly reached for the phone, but he stepped forward and took it before she could grab it.
"You've been hiding something," he said firmly. "And I've been patient. But now—"
"I'm not a threat," Jane cut in softly, her voice trembling.
Carlo narrowed his eyes. "Then what are you?"
She looked down. "Just someone trying to survive."
"Someone trying to survive doesn't keep pictures hidden in a Bible. Doesn't get messages from strangers. Doesn't lie about who they are."
Jane's breath caught. "You went through my things?"
Carlo didn't deny it. "I had to. You're in my house. Around my son. My mother. And now... now I know I've seen you before."
Jane backed up until she felt the wall behind her. "I didn't come here to hurt anyone."
"Then why *are* you here?" he demanded.
Her heart thudded in her chest. The truth burned at her throat, but she wasn't ready to set it free.
"If I tell you… everything will change," she whispered.
Carlo's gaze softened just slightly. "Try me."
She hesitated. "Years ago… something happened. My mother was left broken. Alone. And the man behind it all was named Carlo Steele."
Carlo took a sharp breath. "What?"
"She never told me everything, only that a powerful man used her and left her for dead. She almost didn't survive. And I… I promised her I'd find him. That I'd face him one day."
Carlo's voice dropped. "Are you saying that man is me?"
"I don't know yet," Jane whispered. "That's why I came. To find the truth."
A long silence followed.
Carlo looked stunned. "What you're saying… if it's true, then—" He shook his head. "No. I was just a teenager back then. I didn't—" He turned away, breathing hard. "This doesn't make sense."
Jane stepped closer. "I didn't come to destroy your life. I just needed answers. But now… things are more complicated than I ever imagined."
Carlo looked back at her. "Because of Danny?"
Jane nodded slowly. "He's a good boy. And your mother… she's kind."
"And me?" Carlo asked, his voice quieter.
Jane's lips parted, but she said nothing.
He stepped toward her, eyes unreadable. "What if I'm not the man you're looking for? What if I'm not the villain in your story?"
"Then I don't know what to believe anymore," Jane whispered.
Suddenly, the house phone rang downstairs.
Carlo turned toward the sound but didn't move.
Jane took a deep breath. "Maybe it's better if I leave."
"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice low. "Not until I get to the bottom of this."
She stared at him, her heart pounding.
"I'll have someone trace that number," he added. "Whoever is sending these messages… they're trying to scare you. Or me."
Jane looked down. "They're doing a good job."
Carlo didn't reply. He turned and walked out of her room, closing the door behind him.
Jane collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.
The truth had cracked the surface.
But deeper secrets were still buried.
And someone out there wanted them to come out—no matter the cost.
***
Downstairs, Carlo answered the ringing phone.
"Steele residence," he said.
A man's voice spoke through the static. "You don't know who you're living with."
Carlo's grip on the phone tightened. "Who is this?"
"You'll find out soon. Just like she will."
The line went dead.
Carlo stood frozen, the dial tone humming in his ear.
Someone was playing a dangerous game.
And they had just made their move.
***
The next morning, Jane woke to a strange silence. The mansion felt... different. Tense.
As she entered the kitchen, Mrs. Steele looked up from the newspaper.
"There's something you should see, dear," she said quietly, sliding the paper toward her.
Jane's eyes dropped to the headline on the front page.
**"Billionaire's Nanny Linked to Scandal from the Past"**
Her face drained of color.
A blurry photo of her—leaving the hospital with her mother years ago—was splashed across the page.
Next to it: a smaller photo of Carlo.
Jane's hands shook.
"They know," she whispered.
Mrs. Steele's voice was calm, but firm. "You need to talk to Carlo. Before this gets worse."
Before Jane could respond, the butler appeared at the door.
"Miss Jane," he said, "Mr. Steele would like to see you. In his private study."
Jane stood slowly.
Her legs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds.
As she walked toward the study, her mind raced.
Who leaked the photo?
Was it the person texting her?
And what would Carlo do now?
She reached the door.
Knocked.
A deep voice answered, "Come in."
Jane opened the door—and froze.
Carlo wasn't alone.
A tall man in a gray suit stood beside him, holding a file.
Carlo looked up, his expression unreadable.
"Jane," he said, "this is Detective Harris."
Jane's breath caught.
The man nodded at her. "Miss Jane, I have some questions about your identity... and your connection to a case that was never closed."
Jane took a step back.
Her past had finally caught up.
And there was no place left to hide.