Chapter 1
“The last maid was my sister.”
My fingers closed around the bell.
Isolde’s eyes moved toward the ballroom doors.
Not toward Aveline.
Not toward me.
The doors.
That was enough.
I set the bell on the table.
“What was her name?”
Aveline swallowed.
“Celeste.”
I knew the name.
Not well.
A housemaid who worked several Lennox events before Isolde moved into my hotel residence.
Twenty-eight.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Then suddenly gone.
I had been told she resigned.
I looked at Isolde.
“You told me she left for Philadelphia.”
“She did.”
Aveline shook her head.
“No.”
Her voice remained weak, but something harder had entered it.
“My sister never went to Philadelphia.”
Isolde gave her a cold look.
“You don’t know what your sister did.”
Aveline’s face changed.
There.
History.
Not just grief.
I pulled the chair closer.
“Sit back.”
She obeyed.
Then I looked at Rafe, my senior bodyguard.
“Close the doors.”
Isolde’s head snapped toward him.
“Tristam.”
“No one is trapped.”
My voice stayed low.
“The dinner continues after I understand why my fiancée thinks employees need permission to sleep.”
Some guests looked down.
Others suddenly became very interested in their glasses.
Interesting.
Maybe more people knew than I thought.
I turned back to Aveline.
“When did you last see Celeste?”
“Eight months ago.”
“Where?”
“Lennox House.”
Isolde’s family estate.
Of course.
Aveline continued.
“She called me at three in the morning.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“She said if she fell asleep before sunrise, they’d ring the bell beside her ear.”
My eyes moved to the small brass bell.
Same size.
Same sound.
Isolde whispered:
“She was unstable.”
Aveline looked at her.
“No.”
Then at me.
“She was terrified.”
“What did she find?”
Silence.
Then Aveline said:
“A book.”
Isolde stood.
Too fast.
I extended one open hand.
She stopped.
“What book?”
Aveline’s eyes remained on mine.
“A black guest book.”
Isolde’s face went pale.
Then Aveline added:
“My sister said every secret your guests ever whispered at dinner was written inside it.”
The bell stopped being a tool for cruelty.
May you like
It became a signal.
And suddenly two sleepless nights made terrible sense.
