I once overheard a couple of them talking about how they misjudged her. According to them, they wished she were more than whatever she was to me.
At this point, all the domestic staff already liked her, including Hilda, who was a difficult woman to please. Whatever she did to make everyone in the house respect and love her was a mystery to me. But I liked it. I was impressed by it.
This woman had transformed my building into a home by introducing peace and happiness. Because of her, the staff learned to loosen up without crossing their boundaries. Every day, the sound of laughter echoed across the hall, and even though it annoyed me at first, I learned to embrace the change.
Despite their newfound freedom, they knew better than to act freely around me. Their fear of my reaction wouldn’t let them. Good. There had to be some order and control, lest everything fall into chaos.
Celine was the light in my dark, the one who made me feel complete. I’d gotten so used to having her around that it was impossible to picture my life without her in it. She was gradually beginning to fill the void inside me, the emptiness I thought I’d carry forever.
It felt like she was the extra piece of me that had been missing all my life. My better half?
Celine gave me a glimpse of what my life could be like. Blissful. Peaceful. Better. She showed me a version of my reality I never thought was possible.
How?
How did she manage to pull this off in a few weeks? How did she slither her way into my stone-cold heart and make me so addicted to her?
I’d gotten attached to her in ways I never thought possible. We shared some sort of connection, and with each passing day, it deepened.
About a week ago, I began noticing some subtle yet glaring changes in her. Her breasts seemed fuller, her skin was always glowing, and her beauty was as though it’d been enhanced. At the same time, she looked a little weaker and more fragile.
I didn’t understand what was happening with her, but I loved her physical appearance. It was pleasing to my eyes. I thought it was just the effect of some good sex, so I didn’t pay much attention to it.
That was until three days ago, when I noticed she was quieter, distant, and distracted. At dinner, she barely touched her food and would often avoid my eyes.
Last night, I asked if she was alright, and she said she was just tired. According to her, she had a lot on her mind. It didn’t seem like she was ready to share. But I figured it had to do with her being here.
So, I didn’t pry, even though I wanted to hear her thoughts. She excused herself halfway through the meal, saying she needed to get some rest. I let her go, hoping to find it in me to speak with her later during the week.
That morning, I was in my study, going through some pending files, when the door opened, and Konstantin walked in. His shoes scuffed against the floor as he approached my desk.
“Boss. Got a minute?” He halted in front of me.
“What is it?” I asked without taking my eyes off the flickering laptop screen.
“I wanted to talk to you about something important,” he said. “And it has to do with the girl.”
I paused, brows furrowing to form faint creases between them. “She has a name, Konstantin.” I looked up at him, glaring.
“Apologies,” he corrected himself. “It has to do with Celine.”
My silence was his cue.
“I’d like to know if she told you anything about her conversation with Hilda three days ago.”
I shifted my gaze back to my screen. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“She may or may not be pregnant.”
The words struck me like a dagger to the chest, and my eyes shot back up again.
“What did you just say?”
“I overheard Hilda telling her that she was with child,” he answered. “And Hilda’s never wrong about these sorts of things.”
He was right. If Hilda assumed Celine was pregnant, then there had to be some truth to it. And I was going to find out.
Without hesitation, I sprang to my feet, walked around my desk, and headed out. While storming through the hallways, I considered dropping by Hilda’s room. But on second thought, I decided it was best to confront Celine instead.