“I will not forget this humiliation, Rafael,” Bruno said coldly.
Rafael didn’t respond.
Bruno turned instead.
His footsteps struck the marble with deliberate force as he walked away, each step sharper than the last—anger controlled but not contained.
The sound echoed through the vast foyer, bouncing off the high ceilings like the house itself was being made to remember his exit.
First the sharp precision of his shoes.
Then the uneven rhythm of restraint breaking into retreat.
Then, slowly, silence.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my shoulders to lower.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
“Save your gratitude.” His voice remained indifferent. “I didn’t do it for you.”
Instead, they only confirmed what I already knew.
“I did it for Tess.”
I nodded slightly, because arguing with his honesty felt pointless.
At least his intentions were not dressed in false affection. That was something I could understand, even if it didn’t soften anything.
I turned my face slightly, orienting myself to the vast space around me.
“Is there anyone else working in this house that I should know about?” I asked.
Rafael answered without hesitation. “There’s an executive chef and two sous-chefs running the main kitchen.”
“A head housekeeper and her team of six for the interior.”
A faint pause.
“Exterior groundskeepers and gardeners maintain the property. A butler oversees daily operations.”
I listened carefully, trying to build an invisible map in my mind from nothing but words.
“Two personal valets,” he continued, “a sommelier for the wine cellar, a private tutor for Tess when needed, and a full security detail that rotates in shifts.”
My lips parted slightly at that.
A sommelier.
Security detail.
Rotating shifts.
This wasn’t a household. It was an operation.
And I was now part of it.
“They will treat you with the respect owed to my wife,” he added.
