Current location: Novel nest Everyone Left the Mafia Boss to Die. The Maid They Mocked Brought Him Back. Chapter 10 — My Place at the Table

"Everyone Left the Mafia Boss to Die. The Maid They Mocked Brought Him Back." Chapter 10 — My Place at the Table

Chapter 10 — My Place at the Table

Conversation stopped halfway down the stairs.

I felt it before I saw the men waiting below.

Lorenzo stood near the dining room with a glass of water. Dominic was speaking to an older man in a charcoal suit. Beside them, a silver-haired guest turned toward the staircase.

Their eyes moved from Gabriel to me.

My hand tightened on his arm.

He didn’t hurry me.

At the bottom step, Lorenzo came forward.

“Matilda.”

He smiled without surprise, as though he had expected me all along.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you.”

Gabriel introduced the other men.

Nathan Bellamy managed several of the family’s commercial properties. Victor Sloane represented a company interested in leasing warehouse space near the lake.

Neither carried a visible weapon.

That should have made the evening feel ordinary.

It didn’t.

Sloane looked at my dress, then at my hand resting on Gabriel’s sleeve.

“I believe we’ve met.”

“I’ve served dinner here before.”

“Yes. That must be it.”

He smiled.

“You’re the maid.”

The words weren’t shouted. He delivered them almost pleasantly.

Still, I felt Gabriel’s arm become rigid beneath my fingers.

I spoke before he could.

“I worked in housekeeping. I’m currently reviewing purchasing and staff procedures with Mrs. Bell.”

Sloane glanced toward Gabriel.

“I wasn’t aware you were expanding the management team.”

“Then now you are,” Gabriel said.

There was no threat in his tone.

He didn’t need one.

Bellamy stepped forward.

“Mrs. Bell mentioned the new ordering process. Apparently, it’s already caught a supplier charging us for deliveries that never arrived.”

“Two invoices,” I said. “She noticed the dates didn’t match the stock records.”

“And you followed up.”

“We both did.”

He nodded.

“Good work.”

It was such a straightforward compliment that I almost missed my chance to accept it.

“Thank you.”

We entered the dining room.

Gabriel’s chair had been restored to the head of the table.

A place was set at his right.

I stopped beside it.

Vanessa stood near the sideboard. When she saw me looking at the chair, she stepped forward and drew it back.

“May I?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

I sat.

Across from me, Dominic opened his napkin. Lorenzo settled beside him.

Gabriel lowered himself carefully, his cane placed within reach.

For a moment, I remembered Carmine occupying that chair.

The memory was so vivid that I looked at the floor beneath it, half expecting the coffee tray to be there.

Gabriel’s hand rested beside my plate.

Not touching.

Near enough.

I unfolded my napkin.

Dinner began with ordinary things. Weather. A delayed repair at one of Bellamy’s properties. A dispute over parking spaces at a medical office building.

Then Sloane brought out the lease proposal.

I listened while the men discussed it.

My job didn’t give me a reason to comment on commercial property. I didn’t pretend it did.

But when the conversation turned to late-night access and cleaning requirements, I recognized the problem immediately.

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Sloane wanted unrestricted entry to the whole building.

Bellamy wanted the company to use its own contractors.

Nobody had explained who would be responsible if those contractors damaged equipment or left secured doors open.

I waited for a pause.

“Would the access apply to areas outside the leased space?”

Sloane looked at me.

“That’s a legal detail.”

“It’s also a practical one,” Bellamy said. “What are you thinking?”

“If the cleaning crew can enter the rest of the property, someone needs to know which keys they have and when they’re returned.”

Dominic’s gaze lifted.

I remembered Vanessa with the silver bowl.

Carmine asking for Gabriel’s study key.

“I’d want a record,” I continued. “People assume keys are small things until someone has the wrong one.”

Bellamy made a note.

“We can limit access and add a sign-out requirement.”

Sloane looked displeased, but he nodded.

Gabriel continued eating.

He didn’t congratulate me in front of everyone. He didn’t make a performance of having listened.

The discussion simply changed because I had spoken.

That mattered more.

After dinner, Bellamy asked whether Mrs. Bell and I could send him our updated purchasing procedure. Two of his buildings had problems with inconsistent maintenance orders.

“I’ll ask her,” I said.

“Please do.”

Sloane offered me his hand when the guests prepared to leave.

“Good evening, Ms. Higgins.”

“Good evening.”

He had remembered my name.

I watched their car lights move down the driveway before turning back toward Gabriel.

Lorenzo and Dominic remained in the foyer.

“There’s something from the warehouse,” Dominic said.

Gabriel’s expression changed.

“Tomorrow.”

“It concerns the remaining shipment.”

“Then secure it tonight. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”

Dominic nodded.

Lorenzo glanced at me.

“I’ll have a car ready if you want to go anywhere this weekend.”

“Thank you.”

When they left, Gabriel and I returned upstairs.

He walked more slowly now. I could tell dinner had tired him, though he wouldn’t say it.

In the sitting room, he lowered himself into the chair by the fire.

I took off my earrings and set them on the table.

“You can keep those,” he said.

“I know. I’m taking them off because my ears hurt.”

He looked faintly amused.

“Good.”

I sat opposite him.

For a while, we listened to the fire.

Then I asked, “What happens to the people who helped Carmine?”

His gaze moved toward me.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to hear things. I already do.”

He didn’t answer immediately.

I waited.

“Some worked for him without knowing what he’d done. They’re being reassigned or dismissed.”

“And the ones who knew?”

His silence gave me part of the answer.

“Gabriel.”

He rested his hand on the chair arm.

“The men who helped arrange the shooting aren’t being given another opportunity.”

I looked down.

The room felt quieter.

“I’m not asking you to describe it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But I need you to understand something.”

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He watched me.

“I can work with Mrs. Bell. I can help manage properties and staff. I can sit beside you at dinner.”

I took a breath.

“I won’t sign documents I don’t understand, and I won’t say something is clean because you ask me to.”

He held my gaze.

“Good.”

I frowned.

“You say that as if it’s easy.”

“It won’t always be.”

“Then don’t make me prove it by putting me in that position.”

His jaw tightened.

For several seconds, I wondered whether I had finally asked too much.

Then he nodded.

“You’ll have independent advice for anything you’re asked to sign. And the work you do will stay on the legitimate side.”

“I want my wages paid into my own account.”

“They already are.”

“I want access to my records.”

“You’ll have it.”

“And if there’s something you can’t tell me, say that. Don’t give me an explanation that makes me feel foolish when I discover the truth.”

He leaned forward, careful of his injuries.

“I can do that.”

I studied his face.

He had not offered to become another man.

I was grateful he hadn’t.

I could choose him only if I understood what choosing him meant.

“What did you think of tonight?” he asked.

“I was frightened.”

“I noticed.”

“Then I wasn’t. Not the whole time.”

“You handled Sloane well.”

“He thought I’d apologize for sitting down.”

“He won’t make that mistake again.”

I smiled.

Gabriel reached into the small drawer beside his chair.

He took out a dark velvet box.

My smile vanished.

He held it without opening it.

“I planned to ask you after dinner,” he said. “Then you started asking questions I should have expected.”

My heart beat against my ribs.

“Gabriel.”

“I’m not asking because you saved me.”

He opened the box.

A ring lay inside, a clear stone set between two smaller ones.

“I’m asking because I want a life with you after we stop talking about that night.”

I stared at it.

He continued quietly.

“I want you arguing with me about which room needs repairs. I want you at the table when there’s nothing dramatic to discuss. I want to come home and know I can tell you the truth.”

Tears blurred the stone.

“Marry me, Matilda.”

I looked from the ring to his face.

Everything I wanted seemed close enough to touch.

That was why I had to ask.

“If I say no, will I still be free to decide where I go?”

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