Chapter 5
Rosalie admitted Bianca had asked about Livia’s hair weeks earlier.
“How short could it be cut without upsetting Alessandro too much?”
My blood went cold.
Bianca denied it.
Rosalie did not back down.
“You asked me in the linen room.”
“I asked about styling.”
“No.”
Rosalie’s voice shook, but she kept going.
“You asked whether children remember haircuts.”
I stared at Bianca.
She looked at Rosalie with pure hatred.
That confirmed more than denial ever could.
I turned to Rosalie.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She threatened my job.”
Bianca laughed.
“You work for me too.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
The word landed hard.
“She works for this household.”
Bianca rolled her eyes.
“Same thing.”
“No.”
I stepped between them.
“You keep confusing proximity to me with ownership.”
Her face tightened.
That was the deeper pattern.
My staff.
My daughter.
My house.
My past.
Bianca had slowly begun treating all of it like property she inherited through engagement.
Rosalie continued.
“She told me once the wedding happened, things would change.”
“What things?”
“Livia’s room.”
My breathing slowed.
“How?”
Bianca spoke before Rosalie could.
“I wanted her moved to the east nursery.”
I stared.
The east nursery was on another floor.
Far from my bedroom.
“Why?”
“She is old enough.”
“She’s three.”
“You keep saying that like it excuses everything.”
I almost smiled.
“Everything she does is approximately what three-year-olds do.”
Bianca folded her arms.
“She sleeps outside your room when she has nightmares.”
“Yes.”
“She interrupts meetings.”
“Sometimes.”
“She still asks about Sofia.”
“Yes.”
Bianca’s voice sharpened.
“And I’m supposed to live beside a dead woman forever.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Then I looked at the engagement ring on the floor.
May you like
“You were supposed to live beside a child who lost her mother.”
She had never understood the difference.
