HENRY’S POV
I sat back in my new apartment, the leather of the couch squeaking as I shifted to get more comfortable. A week ago, I never thought I’d be here, living in a space twice the size of my old rat-infested dump, but there I was. And it was all thanks to Sir Henry.
I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a slow breath as I watched the rain trickle down the windowpane. It had been a whirlwind since Sir Henry Stonewood approached me with his offer-a life-changing deal that pulled me out of a sinking ship and straight into this luxurious high-rise.
The terms were clear: find the truth about Joan and Derrick’s relationship. Sir Henry had been specific in his instructions-he didn’t just want rumors or speculation; he needed proof that their so-called “relationship” was nothing but a sham. The first few days were quiet, but now, things were picking up. I’d noticed that Joan and Derrick were a lot more careful in public. It seemed real enough. It was more than enough to convince anyone who wasn’t paying attention, but I was. And Henry was paying me handsomely to do just that.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars. The number still sent a rush of adrenaline through me. The kind of money I’d only dreamed of. Debts? Gone. Eviction notices? Torn to shreds. My wife was well taken care of now. She had all the supplements she needed for the baby. We’d even bough anough stuff for our child.
And now, I’d upgraded. But with the luxury came responsibility-and danger. Sir Henry was not the type of man you wanted to disappoint, and I knew my career-hell, my life-depended on getting him the proof he needed.
I’d been at every outing Joan and Derrick attended, blending into the background like a shadow. I watched how they moved, how they talked. They were good, I’d give them that. But I was better. I’d caught subtle looks-Derrick’s eyes lingering on Joan a second too long, the flicker of hesitation in Joan’s voice when Derrick touched her arm. It wasn’t love. It was something else entirely, and I was going to figure out what.
But that wasn’t enough for Sir Henry. He wanted more-something concrete. And I had to get it. That’s why I decided to take it a step further.
Henry’s connections ran deep, and with his help, I’d managed to infiltrate the mansion. I applied for a job as one of the male servers. They were always hiring, rotating through staff for their lavish parties and events. After all, what better way to get close to them than to blend in with their daily lives? With the server’s uniform in my hands I stared at the mansion from afar, wondering what kind of secrets lurked behind those grand walls.
The mansion was something out of a fairy tale-huge and luxurious with guards patrolling the gates and cameras keeping watch over every inch of the estate. But even fortresses had weak spots, and I was determined to find them.
The first step was simple: gather intel. And for that, I needed to charm the right people. I’d already made friends with a few of the staff-maids, cooks, drivers. Emily was particularly easy to charm. Sarah on the other hand was not so friendly. I asked them innocent questions, lacing my words with curiosity and friendliness. I was just the new guy, after all, trying to fit in.
Emily was friendly but not a gossip so I had to switch to another person. One of the female party servers who was around enough, Ingrid.
“Ingrid,” I said one afternoon as we took a break in the kitchen. “Have you ever seen Joan and Nr Derrick up close? I mean, what are they really like?”
Ingrid, always eager to share gossip, leaned in a little closer “Oh, they’re… well, they’re interesting, that’s for sure. They act all lovey-dovey in front of people, but it seems so fake, you know? Everyone here talks about it.”
My heart skipped a beat. Bingo.
Another maid, who’d been quietly listening, chimed in. “Yeah, sometimes I wonder if they even like each other. Sir Derrick… well, Derrick’s a bit of a mystery.”
I nodded, pretending to think it over. “Really? That’s strange. You’d think a couple like them would be… closer.”
Ingrid scoffed. “Please, they’re not fooling anyone who works here. But no one talks about it, at least not where the bosses can hear. Joan used to be a maid, you know.”
I filed that away in my mind. These two might not have the answers I needed, but they were close enough to the action to give me breadcrumbs. It was all about following the trail.
Later that day, I found myself walking through the mansion’s east wing, where the servants’ quarters were located. I bumped into Miss Sullivan, the head of the household staff, who oversaw everything and everyone. If there was anyone who knew the real de between Joan and Derrick, it was her. But Miss Sullivan was no fool. She was sharp. Her eyes were sharp like steel, and getting anything out of her wouldn’t be easy.
“Good afternoon, Miss Sullivan,” I said, offering her a polite nod as I passed by.
She barely acknowledged me. “Jonas, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, keeping my tone respectful.
She studied me for a moment, her gaze assessing. “You’re new here. Keep your head down and do your job. That’s how you last in this household.”
“Of course, ma’am. I was just curious about… well, about Mr. Derrick and Miss Joan. It’s not every day you get to work for such a powerful couple.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Curiosity killed the cat, Jonas.”
I swallowed, nodding quickly. “Just making conversation. I’ll get back to work.”
As I walked away, I could feel her watching me, and I knew I’d have to tread carefully around her. Miss Sullivan was no pushover, and if she got wind of what I was really after, it could blow up in my face.
But the pieces were starting to come together. Slowly but surely.
That night, I sat in my small room within the mansion, staring at my phone. There were messages from Henry, demanding updates. He was growing impatient, and I could feel the pressure mounting. I knew what he was capable of-ruining careers, ruining lives-and I wasn’t about to be his next casualty.
The mansion’s staff had been whispering about certain areas-restricted zones where only the family and their most trusted associates were allowed. If there was anywhere the truth was being hidden, it was there. But getting access to those places was another story. It would take time, patience, and more charm than I’d ever had to use in my life.
I thought about Joan and Derrick, about the way they acted in public, the forced smiles, the careful distance they kept. There was something off about them-something I couldn’t quite put my finger on yet. But I would. I’d already come too far to turn back now.
By the end of the month, I’d have what I needed. The truth about their relationship. Proof that it was all a lie.
As I lay back on my bex next to my wife, staring at the ceiling, I made a silent vow.
No matter what it took, I’d get to the bottom of this. Sir Henry Stonewood was a dangerous man, and failure wasn’t an option.
My career, my life, everything depended on it.