Chapter 28 — The Package for Lila
Lila received the package at Victor’s house because fear makes clever people stupid, and Lila had always believed any room with marble floors belonged to her. It arrived just after lunch, delivered by a courier in a blue jacket who asked for her signature.
I was polishing the console mirror in the front hall.
Lila signed without looking at the label. That was her first mistake.
Her second was opening it where people could see her face. Inside was a brown envelope, a slim memory drive, and a single sheet of white paper.
No threats. No insults.
Just four printed words. Choose your side carefully.
I watched her read them in the reflection of the mirror. Her lipstick stayed perfect.
Everything else changed.
She slipped the drive into her handbag so quickly that anyone untrained might have missed it. I was trained by humiliation.
Humiliation teaches detail. Lila looked around the hall and found me in the mirror.
“What are you staring at?” “The glass, miss.”
“Then clean it.”
“It is clean.” Her eyes sharpened.
For one second, I thought she would make a scene. Instead, she folded the paper and walked towards the study.
Victor refused to see her.
That was new. His door remained closed while Peter, his nervous assistant, stood outside repeating, “Mr Lang is not available.”
Lila smiled at him. It was not a warm smile.
“Tell him I have something he needs.”
Peter went inside. He came back paler. “Mr Lang said later.”
Later. One word, and Lila understood her value had changed.
When powerful men say later, they mean after I decide whether you are useful or disposable.
Lila turned, phone already in hand. Ryan did not answer her first call.
Or her second. By the third, her fingers had begun to shake.
I carried fresh flowers past her and heard the fourth voicemail.
“Ryan, pick up. If you think I am going to sit here while you and Victor push this onto me, you are insane.” She stopped when she realised I was near.
“Move,” she snapped. I moved.
Not far. In the pantry, the small service hatch carried sound from the rear corridor better than loyalty ever had.
Lila made another call.
This time, Victor answered. “You need to see what I received,” she said.
A pause. “No, I am not discussing it over the phone.”
Another pause.
Her voice dropped. “Because someone knows about the hotels.” Good.
The package Marcus arranged did not include everything. That was deliberate. Enough to terrify. Not enough to explain.
Fear needed room to grow before it turned useful to us later.
Lila listened, then laughed quietly. “You want me quiet? Then give me protection.” Victor must have said something unpleasant.
Her face went blank. “No, Victor. I kept records too.”
There it was.
I closed the service hatch before I smiled. By evening, Lila was no longer strutting through the house.
She moved like a woman checking every window for eyes. At 6:15, she caught me by the side corridor.
“You.”
I stopped. “Miss?” “How long have you worked here?”
“A few months.” “For whom before?”
“Agency families.” Her gaze cut into me. “What is your surname?”
I lowered my eyes. “Hart.”
The colour left her face so fast it was almost beautiful. “Hart,” she repeated.
“Yes, miss.” Her mouth opened, then closed.
She knew enough to fear the name, not enough to understand the woman.
That was my advantage. My phone vibrated in my apron.
Marcus: Package delivered. Lila called both men. She is unstable. I looked at Lila’s polished face and shaking hands.
Unstable was not weakness.
It was an opening. And Lila Monroe had just begun looking for a way out that led through Ryan.