Chapter 2 - The Woman in the Robe
Claire did not move.
If she moved, she might scream.
If she screamed, Ethan would turn too soon.
If Ethan turned too soon, the truth would become a fight instead of evidence.
So she stood frozen in the doorway, half-hidden behind the cleaning cart, watching the blonde woman sip wine from Claire’s crystal and shift comfortably in Claire’s robe.
The robe was unmistakable.
Pale pink satin.
Tiny embroidered initials hidden near the inner collar.
Ethan had given it to her on their second anniversary in Venice, when he still acted as if tenderness was not an inconvenience.
Claire remembered wearing it the night they moved into the mansion.
Ethan carried a bottle of champagne through the empty living room and told her, “One day this place will feel like ours.”
Ours.
Now he stood beneath the chandelier, hand resting on another woman’s shoulder, and gave the house away with a smile.
“This house is yours.”
The mistress laughed softly.
“Then tell your staff to stop staring.”
Claire’s fingers clenched around the cart.
Staff.
That was what she looked like now.
A woman paid to clean the mess.
A woman invisible enough to witness her own replacement.
Ethan glanced toward the doorway but did not really look.
His eyes passed over the maid cap, the apron, the cart, the lowered head.
Claire felt the insult of recognition withheld.
He knew every inch of her body when he wanted it.
He knew the shape of her handwriting when he needed signatures.
He knew how to smile in public while gripping her wrist beneath a dinner table.
But dressed as a maid, she became background.
The mistress rose from the sofa.
She moved through the room like she had practiced being photographed there.
Her blonde hair fell loosely over one shoulder. The robe slid around her body. Her fluffy slippers whispered against the marble.
She paused beside a floral arrangement Claire had chosen that morning.
“These are sad,” she said.
Ethan smiled.
“Change them tomorrow.”
The words struck Claire harder than the kiss.
Tomorrow.
Not a visit.
Not a mistake.
Not one desperate affair hidden in corners.
A plan.
A future arranged inside Claire’s home while she was expected to remain absent from it.
Grace’s warning echoed in her mind.
You need to see what happens when you’re not home.
Claire’s breathing turned ragged.
She looked down at the cleaning cart, at the spray bottles, the bucket, the white brush.
Then back at Ethan’s hand on the mistress’s waist.
“She’s wearing my robe…” Claire whispered.
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Ethan did not hear.
But the mistress did.
May you like
Her eyes shifted toward the doorway.
Read Chapter 3 👉 Because the mistress finally noticed the maid watching too closely, and Claire had to decide whether to stay hidden or step into her own life.
