Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Called Herself Her Mother
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“Grace.”
Dominic said the name only once.
Across the ballroom, a woman in a black service dress stopped moving.
Grace Hart was thirty-seven.
Quiet.
Dependable.
She had worked at the Castellano estate for nearly six years.
Everyone knew Maisie as her daughter.
Grace had never corrected them.
Now Dominic watched her face drain of color.
“Come here.”
Grace approached slowly.
Maisie immediately moved toward her.
Grace wrapped one protective arm around the child.
Dominic held up the bracelet.
“What is this?”
Grace looked at Vivienne.
That glance told Dominic more than words.
“Look at me.”
Grace did.
“Is Maisie your daughter?”
Silence.
Maisie looked up.
“Mom?”
Grace’s eyes filled.
Dominic repeated the question.
“Is she your daughter?”
Grace swallowed.
“No.”
Maisie stepped backward.
“What?”
Grace crouched immediately.
“Sweetheart—”
“You said you were my mom.”
“I said I would raise you like my own.”
“That’s not the same!”
Grace’s face broke.
“No. It isn’t.”
Dominic felt the entire ballroom listening.
He turned.
“Everyone out.”
Nobody argued.
Within minutes, the huge room emptied except for Dominic, Maisie, Grace, Vivienne, and two trusted household staff members standing near the doors.
Vivienne tried to leave.
Dominic looked at her.
“You stay.”
She froze.
Grace took Maisie’s hands.
“Your mother’s name was Elena.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
Even hearing the name hurt.
Maisie whispered, “The woman in the picture?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she?”
Grace’s tears spilled.
“She died when you were very little.”
Maisie stared at her.
The child had apparently always been told her biological mother died shortly after giving birth.
That part was true.
The lie was Grace’s identity.
Grace was Elena’s younger sister.
Maisie’s aunt.
Dominic’s voice came low.
“Why did you pretend she was yours?”
Grace looked toward Vivienne again.
“Because Elena asked me to protect her.”
“From who?”
Grace said nothing.
Vivienne laughed bitterly.
“This is becoming absurd.”
Dominic turned.
“Quiet.”
Grace reached into the pocket of her uniform.
Her hands trembled.
“I promised Elena I wouldn’t tell Maisie anything until she was old enough.”
“Anything about me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Grace looked at him.
“Because Elena thought coming near you would get her daughter hurt.”
Dominic felt that accusation land.
He had enemies.
He had never pretended otherwise.
But something still didn’t fit.
Elena had left without a goodbye.
Without a call.
Without even one message.
“Did Elena know I was Maisie’s father?”
Grace closed her eyes.
Before she could answer, Vivienne snapped—
“He wasn’t!”
Dominic turned.
Grace stared at Vivienne.
And for the first time, something like anger appeared on the maid’s face.
“You told me never to say that.”
The room went dead silent.
Dominic stepped toward Vivienne.
“You told her what?”
Vivienne realized too late that she had spoken.
May you like
👉 Grace had kept Maisie’s identity secret because she was frightened—but Dominic was about to learn that the fear had not started with Elena. It had started with Vivienne.
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