Chapter 22 Chapter 22
Chapter 22
SELENE
As she bustled around preparing my modest breakfast, I studied her. Mrs. Chen had worked for the Sterling family for decades, first for Derek's grandmother, then for Derek when he'd established his own household. She'd been here when I'd moved in two years ago, a constant presence in the background of my life.
Did she know? Whatever secrets this family was hiding, surely longtime staff would be aware of them. But Mrs. Chen had always been nothing but warm and professional, treating me with genuine kindness.
"Mrs. Chen," I said carefully, "how long have you worked for the Sterling family?"
"Oh, must be nearly thirty years now," she said, setting a plate of perfectly golden toast in front of me along with a delicate teacup. "I started when Mr. Derek was just a boy."
"You've seen him grow up, then."
"Indeed I have." Her expression grew fond. "Such a serious child, even then. After his parents' divorce, he came to live with Miss Rosalie, and he was so withdrawn, so guarded. She worked hard to bring him out of his shell."
I spread jam on my toast, trying to appear casual. "Did you notice anything... unusual about the family? Anything strange?"
Mrs. Chen's hands stilled for just a moment in their task of wiping down the counter. "Strange, ma'am?"
"I just mean, every family has their quirks, their secrets." I took a bite of toast, not looking at her directly. "I'm still learning about the Sterlings, even after two years."
She was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was careful. "The Sterling family has always valued their privacy, Mrs. Sterling. There are some things that aren't my place to discuss."
It was a gentle rebuke, but a rebuke nonetheless. I'd pushed too hard, made her uncomfortable.
"Of course," I said quickly. "I didn't mean to pry."
"If you have questions about the family, perhaps you should speak with Miss Rosalie," Mrs. Chen suggested. "She's always been very open with you."
Open. That was one way to describe last night's conversation, though "cryptic and concerning" might have been more accurate.
I finished my breakfast in silence, thanked Mrs. Chen, and retreated to the library. The Sterling mansion had an extensive library, floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books Derek probably never read. But I'd discovered early in our marriage that it was a peaceful place to think, to escape.
I pulled out my phone and called Sarah.
"Hey," she answered immediately. "How are you feeling after last night?"
"Confused," I admitted. "Sarah, did you notice anything weird at the gala? About Derek, or his family, or any of the guests?"
"Weird how?" She sounded puzzled.
"I don't know. Just... the way people acted around Derek. Like they were afraid of him or something."
Sarah was quiet for a moment. "I mean, he's a powerful guy, Selene. Rich, influential. People are naturally going to be a bit deferential."
"No, it was more than that." I struggled to articulate what I'd sensed. "It was like... like they saw him as dangerous."
"Well, he can be pretty intimidating," Sarah said. "And he wasn't exactly friendly to you last night. I saw that dance, remember? The tension was visible from across the room."
"Did you see him with Jasmine? After the dance?"
"On the balcony? Yeah, I saw them talking. I'm sorry, honey. That must have been awful."
I closed my eyes, fighting back the familiar pain. "Rosalie pulled me aside last night. She said some things that didn't make sense. About Derek being complicated, about the family having secrets."
"Every rich family has secrets," Sarah said pragmatically. "Offshore accounts, shady business deals, affairs—it's practically a requirement."
"This felt different." I paused, debating whether to mention the glowing eyes. "Never mind. I'm probably just being paranoid."
"You've been under a lot of stress," Sarah said gently. "The pregnancy, the problems with Derek, the gala. It's a lot to handle. Maybe you should talk to someone? A therapist?"
"Maybe," I agreed, though I knew I wouldn't. How could I explain to a therapist that I thought my husband's eyes glowed in the moonlight?
After we hung up, I wandered through the library, trailing my fingers along the spines of books. Most were business texts, biographies of great leaders, histories of various industries. But one shelf held older volumes, leather-bound and dusty.
I pulled one out at random—a book on folklore and mythology. As I flipped through the pages, a section on werewolves caught my eye. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
Werewolves. Right. Next I'd be looking up information on vampires and ghosts.
But something made me keep reading. The description of pack hierarchy, the way dominance was established through eye contact and physical submission. The accounts of eyes that glowed gold or amber in certain light.
I slammed the book shut. This was ridiculous. I was letting my imagination run wild, seeing connections that didn't exist.
My phone buzzed—a text from Rosalie.
Darling, are you free for lunch today? I'd like to continue our conversation from last night. Just you and me.
I stared at the message, my heart rate picking up. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to pretend last night's conversation had never happened. But I needed answers.
What time? I typed back.
Noon at the Rosewood Bistro. I'll have my driver pick you up.
I had two hours. Two hours to prepare myself for whatever revelations Rosalie was planning to share.