Chapter 31 The strange woman and Noah
Rain POV
I didn’t let go of them for a long time.
Lia’s small body was rigid against mine, her fingers fisted in my shirt like she was afraid I would vanish if she loosened her grip. Noah had gone quiet after the shock, his tears drying into hiccupped breaths as exhaustion dragged him down.
“Look at me,” I whispered softly, brushing Lia’s hair back. “You’re okay. Both of you are okay.”
She shook her head violently. “She’s coming back.”
“No,” I said firmly, even though my heart was still racing. “She’s not here now. And I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Noah lifted his head slightly. “You promise?”
I met his eyes. “I promise.”
I hated promises. Life had taught me they were fragile things. But in that moment, I meant it with everything in me.
I stayed with them through dinner they barely touched, through Lia refusing to change out of her uniform, through Noah insisting the lights stay on. I told them stories—soft ones, silly ones—anything to pull their minds away from pale skin and sharp teeth.
When Lia finally drifted off, her lashes wet and clumped together, I carefully eased her into bed. Noah followed minutes later, his thumb in his mouth, breathing slow and deep.
Only then did I straighten.
My body was tense with something sharp and unresolved.
I stepped into the hallway and closed the door quietly behind me.
Precious was already there.
He stood stiffly near the staircase, hands clasped behind his back, his face unreadable.
“We need to talk,” I said, not bothering to lower my voice.
His eyes flicked to the children’s door. “This is not the time.”
“It’s exactly the time,” I snapped. “You stood there and did nothing.”
His jaw tightened. “Mind your tone.”
“Mind your conscience,” I shot back. “Those are children.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he hissed. “You think I wanted her here?”
“Then why didn’t you throw her out?”
Silence stretched between us.
Finally, he said quietly, “Because I couldn’t.”
I stepped closer. “You’re the head butler of this house. You run everything. You tell me when to breathe and when to eat. Don’t tell me you couldn’t remove one woman.”
His eyes hardened. “There are… limits.”
“To what?” I demanded. “Your job?”
“To my life.”
That stopped me.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
He exhaled slowly, clearly done talking. “You are an employee here, Rain. You would do well to remember that.”
I laughed bitterly. “You think I care about that right now?”
“You should,” he replied coldly. “Because I can fire you.”
I stepped right into his space. “Do it then. But before you do, tell me who she was. Because those kids recognized her. They were terrified. And you—you looked like you’d seen death itself.”
His lips thinned. “Watch your tongue.”
“Tell me,” I insisted. “Or I start asking questions you won’t like.”
Before he could answer, the front door opened.
Cold air rushed in, carrying the smell of rain and wet earth.
Rosee walked in.
His coat was soaked, his hair damp, droplets trailing onto the marble floor as he shut the door behind him. His presence shifted the entire atmosphere instantly—sharp, commanding, heavy.
“What is going on?” he asked, voice clipped.
Precious straightened immediately. “Sir.”
Rosee’s gaze slid to me. “Why are voices raised in my house?”
I didn’t hesitate. “A woman came here today.”
That got his attention.
“What woman?” he asked slowly.
“A strange one,” I continued. “She was already in the sitting room when I arrived. The children...” my voice tightened, “—they were terrified. Noah wet himself. Lia could barely breathe.”
Rosee’s jaw flexed. “Why wasn’t I informed immediately?”
“I tried,” Precious said carefully. “But...”
“But nothing,” I snapped. “She showed her teeth. Precious couldn’t make her leave.”
Rosee’s eyes darkened. “Her teeth?”
“Yes,” I said. “Like knives.”
The rain outside intensified, pounding against the glass in thick sheets. Thunder rolled low in the distance.
Rosee turned slowly to Precious. “Who was she?”
Precious hesitated.
“I asked you a question,” Rosee said, voice dangerously calm.
“She is… Sahra,” Precious finally said.
The name hit the air like a gunshot.
Rosee’s expression changed—not shock, but fear. His brows drew together slightly, his lips flattening.
My heart skipped.
Sahra.
The name echoed in my head, stirring something unpleasant.
“Why does that name sound familiar?” I murmured.
Rosee shot me a sharp look. “You stay out of this.”
Before I could respond, a sound sliced through the house.
A scream.
High-pitched and Panicked.
The hallway blurred as we sprinted toward the children’s room. Rain hammered against the windows, thunder cracking so loud it shook the walls.
I burst through the door first.
The window was open.
Curtains flapped wildly, rain spraying the floor, cold air flooding the room.
“Noah?” I called out.
Nothing.
Lia stood frozen near the bed, her face white, her eyes huge and unfocused.
Rosee rushed to her, gripping her shoulders. “Where is your brother?” he demanded. “Lia, where is Noah?”
She didn’t respond.
“Answer me!” he barked, shaking her slightly.
She broke. She started sobbing uncontrollably, collapsing into herself.
I pushed Rosee aside without thinking and wrapped Lia in my arms.
“It’s okay,” I whispered urgently. “Lia, look at me. Where’s Noah?”
Her small body shook violently.
“She…” she hiccupped. “She took him.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?” Precious asked hoarsely from behind us.
But Rosee already knew.
“Shit,” he muttered.
The word barely left his mouth before thunder crashed overhead, rattling the glass.
I held Lia tighter, my mind racing.
The strange woman.
The fear.
The promise I had made.
My voice shook as I asked the question I already dreaded the answer to.
“Who is Sahra?”
Rosee didn’t answer.
He was already moving—toward the door, toward the storm.
"Wait, where are you going?" I called after him.