The next day, she remained standing in front of the closed door of the room where she stayed. She was afraid to go out. She didn’t want to see Andrie after what he did last night. But aside from what the man did, she was confused about what she saw. That scene was clear, unforgettable. It was like a memory she had forgotten but suddenly recalled. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. She nodded. She decided to leave the room. Whatever happened when she encountered Andrie outside, so be it.
Besides, she wasn’t the one who did something wrong. So why was she afraid of him?
Right. With enough courage, she turned the knob and opened the door. A light, fresh breeze from the open balcony at the end of the long hallway greeted her, leading towards the staircase. She glanced around, making sure no one was there, before stepping towards the stairs. She repeatedly told herself she’d return to her room right after having breakfast.
She descended the stairs. She saw some servants busy cleaning. Most of them glanced at her, but some didn’t bother to look, continuing their work.
She glanced at the large clock resembling Big Ben in London, albeit smaller to fit inside the mansion. It showed ten in the morning. She sighed.
Maybe that’s why the maids were looking at her strangely. She woke up late, but she reasoned that she wasn’t obliged to wake up early so she didn’t think much about it.
She glanced around again as she made her way towards the kitchen. She didn’t see Esma or even Andrie. Where could those two be?
Her question was answered when she stepped into the kitchen. Even before she took her first step inside, she spotted Narciso. He was reading the newspaper while occasionally sipping coffee. He didn’t even lift his gaze, so she was sure he didn’t see her and was deeply engrossed in his reading.
Not far from Narciso sat Andrie. He was typing on a cellphone, absorbed. She swallowed hard. Her cheeks suddenly warmed as last night’s scene flashed in her mind. She quickly averted her gaze.
But she couldn’t escape Andrie’s scrutinizing eyes because she saw him lift his gaze and look directly at her. She bit her lip.
She wanted to escape, return to her room. She thought of returning to the kitchen once Andrie’s father was no longer there. Facing Andrie was manageable for her, but not Narciso. She hadn’t forgotten the intensity of his stare the last time they faced each other.
“Come here,” Andrie ordered, causing Narciso to lift his gaze as well.
She silently clenched her teeth in irritation. Andrie was always ruining her plans. Despite her reluctance, she moved forward, careful with each step. She discreetly glanced at Narciso, who was now sipping his coffee while staring at her like a tailless dog walking towards the table.
“We’re done eating. It’s your turn,” Andrie said, calling a servant in the kitchen. “Serve food for Azora.”
The maid quickly nodded and hurried to prepare the food. While waiting, she couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Narciso. She sighed with relief when she saw he was back to reading the newspaper. When she glanced at Andrie, she almost fell off her chair in surprise when their eyes met. He was staring at her!
She quickly averted her gaze and clenched her fists under the table on her lap. What was Andrie planning, openly staring at her like this?
Minutes passed, and the food was ready on the table. She didn’t touch it, so Andrie frowned. “Eat,” he ordered.
She felt even worse. She hated being ordered around like a child incapable of taking care of herself. And he was ordering her in front of Narciso, and she feared the old man’s scolding if he found out that Andrie was constantly visiting her room.
And… does he already know about her transfer to the room next to Andrie’s room?
She quietly ate. But after a few minutes, Narciso cleared his throat and looked up at her. She coughed. She quickly reached for the glass of juice and drank it. Then, tearfully, she set the glass of juice on the table and looked down. She didn’t eat again and waited for Narciso to say something to her.
“Are you seducing my son Andrie?”
She felt her heart stop beating for a moment. She bit her lip and secretly sighed deeply. “N-No,” she replied weakly.
“Good. I don’t want to hear rumors spreading around the house.”
She looked up at Narciso. He was looking at her too, so she quickly averted her gaze and thought about what he said. Rumors? She secretly frowned. Rumors never really disappeared from a big house. From her father’s mansion to the Clasiso mansions.
She didn’t say anything and lowered her gaze back to her plate still full of food. She thought Narciso wouldn’t ask again, but she was wrong.
The old man asked again, “When that happened, was your father there too?”
She furrowed her brow and thought about what he said. The scene of the night Anthony was killed came to mind. Suddenly, her muscles shook. This was what she feared — the old man asking about what happened that night.
She wanted to protect her father and herself, but how could she do it if Narciso was determined to find the evidence scattered and hidden on that night?
She swallowed. “N-No,” she whispered.
Narciso fell silent for a few minutes. Soon, his fingers played on the table as he stared intensely at her. She almost ran out of breath under his gaze.
“I will find the evidence, Azora. Your father and you will never escape the crime you committed,” he promised in a baritone tone.
She felt even colder at his words. “I don’t have anything to do with that incident. I am innocent,” she said, staring back at Narciso.
The corner of his mouth raised, mocking her.