Chapter 2 - THE PERFECT WOMAN
Victoria Kensington understood wealthy men.
She had grown up around them.
Her father owned hotels, private clubs, shipping interests, and enough politicians’ phone numbers to make people answer at midnight.
Victoria knew when to smile.
When to touch a man’s arm.
When to pretend not to understand something.
When to let powerful men believe an idea had been theirs.
Leo was different.
He did not need admiration.
He did not need reassurance.
And he hated flattery.
That made him difficult.
Lily made him vulnerable.
That made him possible.
Victoria had entered Leo’s life nine months after Sofia’s death.
Carefully.
She never tried to replace Sofia.
Not openly.
She simply became useful.
She attended charity dinners when Leo refused.
She charmed investors who found him intimidating.
She remembered birthdays.
She dressed perfectly.
She never raised her voice.
And in public, she treated Lily like glass.
“Such a beautiful little angel.”
“Just like her mother.”
“You must be so proud, Leo.”
People loved Victoria.
Beatrice did not.
She could not explain why.
At first, there was nothing obvious.
Then small things began happening.
Lily’s favorite blanket disappeared.
Victoria said the laundry staff had lost it.
Beatrice found it two days later inside a storage cabinet Victoria never used.
Lily was told Beatrice had gone home when Beatrice was still working downstairs.
A tea tray arrived in the nursery containing almonds even though Lily had a mild allergy.
The chef swore Victoria had approved the menu herself.
Each incident could be explained.
Together, they felt wrong.
Beatrice began keeping notes.
Not because she planned to accuse anyone.
Because she had learned something from being overlooked.
Invisible people saw things.
One Thursday afternoon, Beatrice entered the sunroom carrying folded towels.
Victoria was sitting beside Lily.
A white gift box rested between them.
“What’s that?”
Beatrice asked.
Victoria smiled.
“A present.”
Lily did not touch it.
Victoria opened the box.
Inside was an expensive blue dress.
“You’ll wear this tonight.”
Lily shook her head.
Victoria’s smile stayed in place.
“It wasn’t a question.”
Beatrice stopped folding.
Lily whispered, “I want the yellow one.”
“That old thing?”
“My mom bought it.”
Victoria’s jaw tightened.
Only for a second.
Then the smile returned.
“Sweetheart, your mother isn’t here.”
The room went still.
Beatrice slowly placed the towels down.
“Miss Kensington.”
Victoria turned.
“Yes?”
“Mr. Rossi asked that Lily choose her own clothes for family dinners.”
Victoria’s eyes hardened.
“I don’t remember asking you.”
“No.”
Beatrice kept her voice level.
“You didn’t.”
Lily slipped off the couch.
She hurried behind Beatrice.
Victoria watched her do it.
The humiliation was small.
But real.
“Lily.”
The girl hugged Beatrice’s waist.
Victoria stood.
“You are confusing that child about your place in this house.”
Beatrice looked at her.
“My place is wherever Mr. Rossi tells me to work.”
“No.”
Victoria stepped closer.
“Your place is downstairs.”
Beatrice’s cheeks burned.
She had heard versions of that sentence her entire life.
From employers.
Guests.
Women who thought kindness toward staff was something to perform when others were watching.
Beatrice lowered her voice.
“Maybe.”
She put one hand gently over Lily’s.
“But she’s scared.”
Victoria smiled.
“I think she’s becoming manipulative.”
Beatrice stared at her.
“She’s six.”
“Exactly.”
Victoria reached for Lily.
The child pulled back.
Victoria’s smile disappeared.
“Come here.”
“No.”
The word came from Lily.
Quiet.
Firm.
Victoria looked stunned.
Beatrice almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
Then Leo entered.
“What’s going on?”
Victoria changed instantly.
“Nothing.”
She laughed lightly.
“Lily doesn’t like the dress I bought her.”
Leo looked at Lily.
“What do you want to wear?”
“The yellow one.”
“Then wear the yellow one.”
Victoria’s mouth tightened.
“Leo, we have guests.”
“And?”
“It looks old.”
“It was Sofia’s last birthday gift to her.”
Victoria went silent.
Leo looked toward Beatrice.
“Would you help her get ready?”
“Of course.”
Beatrice led Lily from the room.
As she passed Victoria, she smelled her perfume.
Expensive.
Sweet.
Cold.
That night, Leo’s dinner guests arrived.
Among them was Dr. Raymond Price.
He was supposedly an old family friend of the Kensingtons.
Beatrice recognized him immediately.
Not from a dinner.
From Lily’s medical file.
Dr. Price was one of the physicians who had examined Lily after Sofia’s death.
That alone would not have concerned her.
What concerned her was what happened twenty minutes later.
Beatrice was carrying wine glasses past Leo’s study.
The door was almost closed.
Inside, Victoria whispered.
“You said the panic episodes would continue.”
Dr. Price answered.
“They should.”
“They’re getting better.”
“That wasn’t expected.”
Victoria’s voice sharpened.
“The maid is interfering.”
Beatrice stopped.
Her heart began beating faster.
Dr. Price lowered his voice.
“She cannot be allowed to influence the child’s statements.”
Statements?
Beatrice leaned closer.
Then a hand touched her shoulder.
She nearly dropped the glasses.
Mateo stood behind her.
He looked at the study door.
Then at her face.
“What did you hear?”
Beatrice whispered.
“I’m not sure yet.”
Mateo’s eyes narrowed.
“Then you’d better become sure.”
Inside the study, Victoria said one final thing.
May you like
And both of them heard it.
“Leo can never find out what Lily saw the night Sofia died.”
