016

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016

\---

The tension in the room was almost palpable as Charlotte stared at the package lying on her bed. Her hands trembled as she opened it, revealing a stack of photographs. The blood drained from her face when she realized what they were.

The pictures showed her and Jasmine—some taken at their old apartment, others from parks they frequented, and even one from the day they’d moved into Astor’s villa. Each photo was unsettlingly candid, the angles suggesting they had been taken without her knowledge.

Her heart pounded as she sifted through the images, her mind racing. Who could have done this? And why?

By the time she reached Astor’s office, her anger was boiling over. She pushed the door open without knocking, her grip on the photos tightening.

“Astor,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the silence.

Astor looked up from his desk, his brow furrowing. “Charlotte,” he said coolly. “What’s the matter?”

She stormed over to his desk and slammed the photographs down in front of him. “Care to explain this?”

Astor glanced at the photos, his expression unreadable. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Where did you get these?”

“They were left in my room,” Charlotte said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. “Someone’s been watching me and Jasmine, and I want to know who.”

Astor’s gaze flicked back to the photos, his jaw tightening slightly. “This isn’t my doing,” he said after a moment, his tone calm but firm.

“Then whose is it?” Charlotte demanded.

Astor stood, towering over her as he placed his hands on the desk. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is that you focus on the agreement we made. This is a distraction.”

“A distraction?” Charlotte repeated, her voice rising. “Someone is stalking me and my daughter, and you’re calling it a distraction?”

“Enough, Charlotte,” Astor said sharply. His tone silenced her, though her anger simmered just beneath the surface. “I’ll handle it. You need to trust me.”

Trust. The word felt like a slap to the face.

Charlotte shook her head, stepping back. “I don’t trust you, Astor,” she said coldly. “And I don’t know why I ever agreed to this in the first place.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the office.

\---

The kitchen was bustling with activity when Charlotte entered, needing a moment to clear her head. Marta and a few other staff members were preparing dinner, their movements practiced and precise.

“Miss Walker,” Brandon said, appearing at her side. His voice was kind, but his expression was concerned. “Are you alright? You seem... upset.”

Charlotte hesitated before nodding. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, though her tone betrayed her unease.

Brandon didn’t press further, instead gesturing toward the table where Marta was arranging a tray. “Dinner’s almost ready. You and Jasmine should eat something. It might help.”

Charlotte offered him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Brandon.”

As she moved toward the table, she caught snippets of conversation from the staff.

“Did you hear about the photos?” one of the maids whispered to another, glancing in Charlotte’s direction.

“Yes,” the other replied. “Do you think it’s true? That someone’s watching her?”

“Maybe it’s Mr. William,” Marta said quietly, her voice tinged with suspicion. “He’s been acting strange lately, hasn’t he?”

Charlotte felt a chill run down her spine. She didn’t want to believe it, but the idea wasn’t far-fetched.

\---

That evening, Charlotte found Jasmine in the living room, playing with a puzzle. The sight of her daughter’s carefree smile helped soothe some of her anxiety.

“Mommy, look!” Jasmine said, holding up a piece triumphantly. “I found the corner!”

“Great job, sweetheart,” Charlotte said, sitting beside her. She wrapped an arm around Jasmine, pulling her close. “You’re so clever.”

Jasmine giggled, oblivious to the turmoil swirling around them.

“Mommy,” she said after a moment, “can Daddy help me with the puzzle later?”

Charlotte stiffened slightly. “Maybe,” she said, forcing a smile. “We’ll see.”

Jasmine nodded, content with the answer, and returned to her puzzle.

\---

As night fell, the villa grew quiet, the only sounds the faint rustling of trees outside and the occasional creak of the old floors.

Charlotte sat by the window in her room, staring out at the darkened grounds. Her thoughts kept circling back to the photographs. Who had taken them? And why had they been left for her to find?

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, expecting Jasmine.

Instead, Brandon stepped inside, carrying a small tray with a cup of tea.

“I thought you might need this,” he said, setting it down on the bedside table.

Charlotte offered him a faint smile. “Thank you, Brandon. That’s very thoughtful.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the photographs that still lay on the desk. “Miss Walker... do you think it’s safe here? For you and Jasmine?”

The question caught her off guard. She glanced at the photos before meeting his gaze. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I don’t have much of a choice right now.”

Brandon nodded slowly. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know,” he said, his voice sincere.

“Thank you,” Charlotte said softly.

As Brandon left, Charlotte felt a small sense of relief. At least someone in the house seemed to care about her and Jasmine’s safety.

\---

Later that night, long after Jasmine had fallen asleep, Charlotte lay awake in bed, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Her unease grew when she heard the faint sound of footsteps outside her door.

She sat up, her heart pounding as she strained to listen. The footsteps were slow, deliberate, as if whoever was outside was trying not to be heard.

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat as a shadow appeared under the doorframe. It lingered there, unmoving, for what felt like an eternity.

Her mind raced with possibilities. Was it Astor? William? Or someone else entirely?

She clutched the blanket tightly, her pulse racing as she waited for the shadow to move.