Chapter 4 - The War Behind Closed Doors
Returning to Sterling Manor at one in the morning felt entirely different from my first arrival five days ago.
The cold, oppressive atmosphere that had hung over the marble halls seemed to have vanished with Charlotte’s departure. The heavy velvet drapes in the main foyer had been pulled back, letting the silver moonlight flood the white stone floors.
I spent the rest of the night in the East Wing nursery, sleeping on a plush daybed right between the boys' twin beds. Every hour or so, Leo or Toby would reach their little hands out across the space between us just to make sure I was still there. Every time their small fingers brushed my sleeve, I squeezed back, reassuring them.
By 7:00 AM, the mansion was buzzing with activity.
I walked down the grand staircase wearing a crisp cream sweater and tailored trousers—part of the new wardrobe Julian’s staff had delivered to my sprawling private suite in the East Wing. I carried a wooden tray with two small breakfast plates shaped like bear faces, complete with pancake ears and blueberry eyes.
When I entered the sunny breakfast nook overlooking the formal gardens, I found Julian sitting at the glass table.
He had traded his business suit for a dark cashmere sweater, a steaming cup of dark roast coffee sitting next to a stack of financial reports. He looked up as I entered, his eyes lingering on my face for a second longer than necessary.
"Good morning, Maya," he said, his voice deep and smooth in the quiet room.
"Good morning, Mr. Sterling," I replied, setting the bear plates down at the two small children's chairs.
"Julian," he corrected softly, setting his coffee cup down. "If you're going to manage my household and raise my sons, you should call me Julian."
I flushed slightly, tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and nodded. "Julian. Where are the boys?"
"Harrison is showing them the new security dog in the courtyard," Julian said. A subtle smile touched the corner of his lips. "A three-month-old Golden Retriever. I thought it was time they had something to take care of."
My heart melted instantly. "That's... that's wonderful, Julian. They've been asking for a dog."
"I know," Julian said, looking directly at me. "They told me you said a dog would help them feel safe at night."
Before I could answer, the double doors of the dining room swung open with a loud, aggressive thud.
Mrs. Higgins, the head housekeeper—a stern woman who had worked for Charlotte for seven years—marched into the room holding a silver tray with a thick stack of mail and legal documents.
"Mr. Sterling," Mrs. Higgins said, her tone cold and stiff as she glared sideways at me. "Ms. Charlotte's personal attorney is on line one. He states that Ms. Charlotte is currently at St. Jude's Private Hospital receiving treatment for a severe wrist laceration and psychological trauma caused by domestic negligence."
I froze, the serving tongs slipping from my grip onto the table.
Julian didn't even blink. He reached out, picked up his coffee, and took a slow sip.
"Tell her attorney that if he calls this house again, I will file a counter-suit for corporate espionage, child endangerment, and grand larceny," Julian said mildly. "And Mrs. Higgins?"
The housekeeper stiffened. "Yes, sir?"
"Pack your bags. You have two hours to clear your locker."
Mrs. Higgins gasped, her face turning crimson. "Mr. Sterling! I have served this estate for seven years! You are firing me over a servant?!" She pointed a shaking, manicured finger at me.
Julian stood up slowly. The air in the room suddenly turned bone-chillingly cold.
"Maya is not a servant," Julian said, his voice low and vibrating with a power that made Mrs. Higgins stumble back a step. "She is the director of this household. An insult to her is an insult to me. Hand your keys to Harrison on your way out."
Mrs. Higgins threw the silver tray onto the sideboard, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy oak doors behind her.
I stood there, my hands clasped tightly in front of me, staring at Julian in shock. "Julian... you didn't have to do that. I can handle a rude housekeeper."
"No," Julian said, stepping around the table until he was standing just inches from me. The rich scent of cedarwood and dark coffee enveloped my senses. "Charlotte left behind a network of people in this house who worked to keep my sons isolated. I am clearing the weeds, Maya. Every single one of them."
He looked down at me, his gaze dropping to my lips for a split second before returning to my eyes.
"I need people in this house I can trust," he murmured softly. "I trust you."
Before I could process the sudden intensity between us, the sound of barking dogs and high-pitched childish laughter echoed from the garden terrace.
Leo and Toby burst through the glass doors, trailing wet grass and leaves across the pristine floor, carrying a tumbling golden puppy with oversized paws.
"Maya! Look!" Toby shrieked, skidding to a halt in front of me. "Daddy bought us a lion!"
"It's a dog, silly!" Leo shouted, gently placing the puppy on my shoes. "His name is Barnaby!"
May you like
I dropped to my knees, laughing as the puppy immediately began licking my chin while the boys piled onto my lap.
Across the room, Julian watched us, a genuine, radiant smile breaking across his handsome face—a smile that transformed him from a cold billionaire into a man who was finally, truly alive.
