Veronica’s voice came from Ethan’s phone with perfect clarity.
“Don’t touch that.”
There was a rustle of leather, followed by the faint tap of something being pulled across the glass coffee table.
Then Lily’s small voice.
“I only look.”
“You’re dirty,” Veronica replied.
“Dirty girls don’t touch nice things.”
The recording ended.
No one moved.
Morning light stretched across the bedroom floor, touching the polished legs of the bed and the abandoned silk robe near Veronica’s feet.
The room was so quiet that Ethan could hear Lily breathing against her mother’s shoulder.
Veronica stared at the phone.
“You recorded me?”
Ethan looked at her as though he had never seen her before.
“The security system records raised voices and unusual activity in the common rooms.”
“That is a violation of my privacy.”
“You said it in the living room to a three-year-old child.”
Veronica stood.
Her posture remained elegant, but one hand closed around the edge of the duvet.
“I was protecting an expensive bag.”
“From a child’s finger?”
“She should not have been there.”
Lily lifted her head.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Ethan turned immediately.
“No, Lily.
You have nothing to apologize for.”
The firmness of his voice made her blink.
Rosa shifted the child higher in her arms.
Her own face remained pale.
“Mr.
Mercer, may I take her back to our room?”
Veronica seized on the request.
“Yes.
Please do.
This has gone far enough.”
Ethan did not take his eyes off Rosa.
“Before you go, I need you to answer something honestly.”
Rosa’s fingers tightened around Lily’s rabbit.
“How many times has Veronica spoken to either of you like that?”
Rosa glanced at Veronica.
That glance answered before she did.
Veronica crossed her arms.
“Careful, Rosa.”
Ethan’s head turned.
The warning had been quiet, almost graceful, but it changed the air in the room.
“Do not threaten her,” he said.
“I didn’t threaten anyone.”
“You reminded her that you have power over her.”
Veronica gave a short laugh.
“We do have power over her.
She works for us.”
Rosa looked down.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“She works for me,” he said.
“And apparently I have done a poor job of understanding what that has meant inside this home.”
