Chapter 6

• Is he going to fire me over some information? I couldn’t lose this job. I have debts, and I have no place to stay in this foreign city. I can’t just go back home, bringing nothing but failure to my family. Well, of course, I still need money, but this job was way more ethical than receiving unlabored cash.
• “Wait...” I give up. He’s firing me anyway, so why not talk back? “First of all, you signed me up to a one-year contract. You can’t just fire people just because you want to. That’s against the law. My job description is an assistant chef, and what you are asking now isn’t written in the contract. Second, what you are asking for is very private. I can’t just give such information away to strangers, especially to a stranger like you. Why do you want it anyway? I at least want an explanation. Lastly, in all honesty, I can’t trust someone who would speak with me this way. I can’t even see you.”
• “I hired you, Miss Hart. What makes you think I don’t have the right to fire you? And in all honesty, too, I enjoy firing stubborn people, especially those who don’t seem to know when to zip their mouth,” he adds, not hiding the unpleasant tone in his voice.
• “I beg your pardon?”
• “I think you’re forgetting something here. You went into my room, and you watched me while I was in the shower. If that isn’t unlawful enough, then I don’t know what is. But you’ve made your point, and for your information, I’m not just a stranger.”
• “What are you to her then? A child she doesn’t know about?” I mock.
• “No, but she was acquainted with my father. Then I found out you were the last person she interacted with in Venice.”
• Another picture appears on the screen—a picture of Lucia and me walking in Campo San Rocco two years ago.
• “Bastardo,” I mumble in Italian. “Why do you have this?”
• “You see, I’m not supposed to tell you this; I’ve been looking for her for a very long time, but she’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere in Italy anymore.”
• For someone who doesn’t socialize, this man can talk a lot. However, I feel my face blanch with guilt. He does sound a bit desperate.
• If he is so eager, I’d better make a deal. Mom’s medication and payments for my debts should be enough, but this job is important too. I can’t leave this house and lose the opportunity because I opened a wrong goddamn door in the library. I might as well try to offer him my terms.
• I think about the situation thoroughly. I won’t be able to tell him where he can find Lucia or Annettewhatever he prefers—because Lucia told me she was moving to teach at the University of West London. I asked for her email address because I didn’t want to lose the connection. We exchanged emails in the first few months, but one day she stopped answering.
• “I knew her for six months when I was in Venice,” I begin. “She was my teacher, but she’s not in Venice or anywhere in Italy right now. So no, you won’t find her there.”
• There is a long pause on his end. I wonder if he collapsed or just decided to cut our conversation.
• “Where is she now?”
• I jerk when I hear him talk. I thought he’d dismissed me already. “Fine. I will tell you. Let’s make a deal.”
• “This should be worth it.”
• I shrug. “Apart from your offer earlier, you’re not going to fire me.”
• “Miss Hart, aren’t you listening to me? I don’t need people like you in my house.”
• I roll my eyes. That remark hits me hard, but I won’t bend just because his voice is so commanding. “Please, if you’d just listen to me.”
• He doesn’t answer.
• “First, I’m really sorry. I wish you’d believe that what happened today was an accident. This job means a lot to me—”
• “Quit the introduction and tell me your terms,” he snaps.
• “All right. I will accept the support for my mother’s medication, the settlement of my debts, but I won’t accept the additional cash compensation. I want another employment contract. Make it two years,” I demand.
• “Done. Anything else?”
• Whoa! That escalated quickly. He even sounded bored.
• “Tell me, why are you looking for Lucia if she’s related to your father? You could just ask him and—”
• “That’s a private matter, and it doesn’t concern you,” he interjects.
• “Fine. I’m sorry.”
• I knew to stop prodding the issue. I have to fight for my rights and my job, but there is no need to bring up intimately personal matters.
• “What else it is that you want, Miss Hart?”
• “I need the contract first, and then I’ll give you her location.”
• “I’ll have it ready,” he declares. “Oliver will give you another contract.”
• “Do it privately, if you please.” I’m not sure if this was going to work, but I have to try. “This might be too much to ask, but let’s just say I need to trust you. What you want from me isn’t simple. I should at least see the person I’ll be giving the information to.”
• “I—” he pauses. “I cannot do that, Miss Hart.”
• “Let’s do the contract signing privately. That or I’ll leave. Your chance to know where Lucia is will be gone forever.”
• I don’t know where I got the courage to say those words because I’m just as afraid that he’ll say no, and I’ll really lose my job. But in all honesty, it’s not just because of what Oliver said. I can’t make a deal with a person who can’t even show himself.
• “Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?”
• Seems like my proposition wouldn’t work. “Goodbye. I’m packing my things right now because finally I’ve found a reason to.” I stand up and put the phone down. I start counting my steps mentally as I turn.
• One... two... three...
• “Hey!”
• I knew you’d do that! I smile. Lucia seems like a great deal to him. She can’t be his lover because Lucia was already forty-five years old when I met her.
• I walk back, then place the phone to my ear.
• “Yes?” I answer confidently.
• “I don’t meet people just like that.”
• “Yes, but I need to see you sign the contract in front of me. I need to make sure you won’t fire me after you get what you want. Let’s just say that I have trust issues. What’s so hard about that?”
• “How did I ever stumble across a woman like you?” he remarks irritably. I know if he had a choice, he would have me dragged out of his house.
• “And what are you afraid of?” I dare to ask.
• “You better be careful with your words, Miss Hart.”
• What I said to him made me feel guilty right away, but I tense up. “Do it privately or throw me out of your creepy dungeon,” I say with a flat tone and put the phone down. I have to go, I murmur, but I was sure he didn’t hear me.
• “Get back here!” His voice echoes throughout the whole room, and the phone rings once again. “Pick up the damn phone!”
• I rush out of the room. Ms. Lennie is still at the door when I come out, standing like a statue and wearing her expressionless face like an expert. The people in this house don’t have any sense of humor at all—except for Oliver, of course.
• “He didn’t fire me.”
• “I know. He just called.”
• Really? That was fast.
• “I don’t know what you did to our master, but I’m bothered,” she comments. “I’ve known him since he was a kid, and I raised him until he reached eighteen. He closed his life to everyone outside this door, and I can’t believe you actually asked him to come out,” she says, trying to avoid my gaze.
• “I didn’t do anything. But he needed something important, and no one in this world could give that to him, except me,” I said truthfully and proudly.
• Her mouth twitches. “If you're done talking, then follow me now.”
• My shoulders fall. “Where are we going?”
• “To your workstation. You’re going to work now as his private chef.”
• “His what?” I squeal but cover my mouth immediately. “But that’s Mr. Katrakis’ position.”
• She stops. “Are you following me or not?”
• “Oh.” I mirror her pace and follow her to the central kitchen, but instead of stopping, we turn left to another door—like an extension.
• Ms. Lennie opens the door. It’s a kitchen I haven’t seen before, but a smaller one. All equipment provided in the central kitchen is all here—only compacted in less space, but it looks terrific. I will be able to move around here comfortably.
• “Another kitchen? Why? I’m fine with the central kitchen.”
• “This kitchen belonged to someone before, and don’t bother asking who. Master Brandon wants you to use it. Treat this place carefully.”
• I nod obediently. “Am I the only one who’s going to work here?” I ask instead, still feeling astonished.
• “Yes, and thanks to you, Mr. Katrakis doesn’t have to make the Master’s meal anymore. I’m going to leave you here. Treat this kitchen as your own.”
• “Thanks.”
• I can’t figure out if her statement is sarcastic or not. Her tone is monotonous. I never even asked the boss for another job position, and I didn’t mean to take over Oliver’s place. Guilt suddenly floods over me.
• BRANDON
• I’ve never been closer to finding one of the persons who could be the reason for my family’s demise before. Finding those murderers has become my life’s purpose. They ruined my life enough.
• Annette Teller, my father’s fucking mistress. Oliver and I have been looking for her for a long time, and this very intriguing chef is bearing the information in her hands.
• For some reason, this Alayna Hart has triggered something in me—something inexplicable. I’m very meticulous with the food I consume, as it is one of the few things that can bring me joy in this very boring life. Oliver knows I won’t eat something my tongue would despise. But Alayna makes every meal special, despite not following the rules about improvising. Her little handwritten notes, I admit, are entertaining.
• Strangely, the person who can bring delight to my meals is also the person who could end my agony. I craved and longed for justice in this life, and I’m finally close to that reality. That way, I may finally get my redemption.
• Ten years ago, I was there when they died. I saw Elga’s lifeless, ruined body with my own eyes and how my mother cried my name with her last breath. But I couldn’t do anything. I was too weak to even save myself. I was just a guy who only knew how to fuck up his life—someone who only lived for himself and left his family in darkness.
• I can never bring them back, but I should at least give them the justice they deserve.
• However, Miss Hart demanded to see me. It’s one of the things I fear the most. And for the first time in a very long time, I’m stuck behind a wall I created.