Send.
The dots appear immediately.
How many days?
I don't know. Until she's better? A few days, maybe?
Bring her.
I blink at my screen.
What?
Bring Lily. To the compound. Tomorrow.
I can't bring my daughter to work.
You can if I say you can. Problem solved.
I stare at the screen until my eyes burn.
Problem solved.
Like it's that simple.
But my thumbs don't type a response. Don't argue. Don't thank him.
I just set the phone face-down on my nightstand and let the relief wash over me like a warm bath.
Tomorrow is handled.
I exhale slowly, listening to Lily's soft breathing across the room. She's sprawled across her little bed like a starfish, one arm dangling off the edge, Bunbun clutched against her chest. Peaceful. Oblivious to the chaos her mother navigates just to keep them afloat.
Sleep pulls at me now, finally, the anxiety loosening its grip on my chest.
Tonight Aria leaves for Sicily.
These past few days, I've barely seen her. She's spent most of her time in Bruno's wing—the forbidden zone Giulia warned me about on day one. The few times our paths crossed, Aria looked tired. Worn thin in a way that expensive moisturiser can't fix.
I understand that better than I'd like to admit.
But despite the heavy things lurking in the corners of this job, the truth is...
I love it.
I love the rhythm of the compound. The way morning light floods through those ridiculous floor-to-ceiling windows. The satisfaction of fresh flowers in every room, linens that smell like lavender, a kitchen that actually works instead of fighting me at every turn.
I love that Giulia left detailed notes about everyone's preferences, she knew I'd need a roadmap to navigate this strange family.
I roll onto my side, pulling the blanket up to my chin.
Tomorrow is Friday.
Friday.
The word glitters in my mind like something precious. Because tomorrow isn't just the end of the work week. Tomorrow is my second paycheck.
Three thousand dollars.
