49

49
Emilia’s POV
It was the small things I noticed first. The subtle changes that whispered something was different, even if I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Extra men loitering by the gates, the usual staff looking a bit tenser than usual, and Allesio’s perpetual scowl seeming even deeper. Maybe it was nothing-Alaric always had a rotating roster of security, and after a while, you start to lose track of the familiar faces. But this felt different. It felt like there was a deeper reason behind the tighter security.
I tried to brush it off. What did I know about Alaric’s business anyway? Maybe it was just a precaution, another one of his endless, layered defenses. Still, when I glanced out the window and caught sight of two new guards standing like statues at the end of the driveway, I couldn’t ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut. I turned away, focusing on the task at hand: preparing Francesca for the charity event happening later today.
It was supposed to be a simple gathering, a small charity brunch Alaric had organized. He’d finally mentioned it offhandedly last week, his voice casual, but I could tell it was important. The kind of event where all the families would come together, playing nice and smiling, all while discussing deals and alliances under the surface.
Francesca was in high spirits, twirling in front of the mirror in her little blue dress. Her laughter was infectious, and I found myself smiling despite the bad feeling gnawing at me. .
“You look like a princess,” I told her, kneeling down to fix a stray curl.
She beamed, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck. “You’re coming with us, right?”
“Of course,” I promised. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I meant it too. I’ve never been to am event like this and I was shy, but Francesca’s enthusiasm had me feeling a tad bit excited to go. And it wasn’t just about her enthusiasm anymore. It was also the fact that I wanted to keep an eye on her myself. To make sure that no one harmed her. 8
The drive to the venue was uneventful, aside from the heavy escort that followed us. I watched the cars in the rearview mirror, the black SUVs trailing behind us. Francesca was too busy chatting to notice, her excitement bubbling over as she babbled about all the pastries she hoped would be at the event.
Once we arrived, I was swept up in a wave of introductions and greetings. Alaric moved through the crowd like a king among his subjects, all charisma and control. I hung back, holding Francesca’s hand tightly. The room was packed with people I didn’t recognize-wealthy men in tailored suits, women draped in expensive fabrics, their laughter too sharp, too rehearsed. I could tell there was more going on beneath the surface, hidden in the polite smiles and stiff handshakes.
Francesca pulled away from me at some point, spotting a group of kids playing near the dessert table. I hesitated but let her go, keeping her in my line of sight as she ran off, her curls bouncing with every step.
Minutes passed, and I lost track of her for a moment as I got pulled into a conversation with one of the women-a wife of someone important, I guessed, based on the way she looked me up and down. Her tone was polite, but her eyes held a hint of something else. Judgment? Curiosity? I wasn’t sure.
“You must be Francesca’s nanny,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Yes,” I replied, trying to keep my own smile in place. “She’s a wonderful child.”
“She certainly is,” the woman agreed, though her gaze flicked past me as if searching for someone more interesting to talk to. I used the opportunity to look around, my heart skipping a beat when I realized I couldn’t see Francesca anymore.
I excused myself quickly, scanning the room as casually as I could manage. No sign of her by the dessert table. My pulse quickened. This place was huge-too many people, too many places a small child could slip away unnoticed. I tried to stay calm, moving through the crowd, calling her name softly so as not to draw attention.
But the longer I searched, the more the panic clawed up my throat. Where was she? I’d only taken my eyes off her for a minute. It wasn’t like Francesca to wander off this far; she knew better. I rounded the corner, pushing through a group of men who gave me annoyed looks, and there she was, crouched behind a large potted plant, talking quietly to another child.
“Francesca!” I breathed out, relief washing over me so fast I felt dizzy.
She looked up, blinking in surprise. “Mommy!” she squealed, running over to me.
I knelt down, gathering her into my arms, holding her tight for a moment longer than necessary. “You scared me,” I whispered. “You can’t just run off like that.”
“I was just playing,” she said, her voice small and guilty. “I’m sorry.”
I forced a smile, brushing her hair back. “It’s okay, sweetie. Just stay close to me from now on, alright?”
She nodded solemnly, slipping her hand back into mine. I took a deep breath, steadying myself, but the scare had rattled me more than I wanted to admit. And as I led her back to the main hall, the cryptic threats from the letter I’d received rang in my head.
And I had found another letter. Just two days ago, I found another letter folded nestly on the dresser. There was no sender’s address, only my name written on the front in a scrawled unfamiliar script. At first, I’d thought it was a note from one of the staff, maybe a reminder about something small. But when I opened it, the words inside had made my blood run cold.
“You don’t belong here. Leave, or she will suffer.”
No signature, no indication of who had written it. Just a stark warning, accompanied by a crude sketch of a small figure that looked disturbingly like Francesca. I’d crumpled it up and thrown it away, convincing myself it was some kind of sick prank. But now, after the scare of losing her even for a moment, I couldn’t get the words out of my head.
I knew I should tell Alaric. It was reckless not to. But a part of me hesitated, a part that feared his reaction. He’d blame me, wouldn’t he? For not being more careful, for not telling him immediately. And Worse, what if he thought I was bringing trouble into his home, into Francesca’s life?
“Let’s go,” I murmured, taking her hand and leading her back into the hall. Alaric joined us toward the end, lifting Francesca up onto his shoulders as she giggled, all smiles and sunshine again. He looked at me then, and for a brief moment, his gaze turned wary as if he could sense that I was hiding something from him.
“Everything okay?” he asked quietly, so only I could hear.
I forced another smile, nodding. “Yeah, just a long day.”
The look he gave me made it very obvious that he didn’t believe that, but he didn’t say anything else to me, turning his attention back to Francesca as she chattered on about the cakes and cookies she’d eaten.
But as we drove back to the mansion, I kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, my heart still lodged in my throat. Maybe it was just paranoia. Maybe I was overreacting. But I couldn’t take that chance-not with Francesca.
As the car sped into the driveway of the mansion, I made up my mind. I had to tell Alaric about the threats. I couldn’t keep this from him any longer. I have no choice but to tell Alaric about the letter. Whatever his reaction, I needed him to know. Because if there was a threat lurking this close to Francesca, he was the best person who could protect her from it.