🖤 The Maid Whose Dying Brother Made the Mafia Boss Claim Everything

Chapter 10 - The Lie That Sounded Like Freedom

Victor called back immediately.

Sadi let it ring twice before answering because she needed the lie to breathe.

If Mick was tracing anything, if Caldwell had access to hospital calls, if Rina was listening through some old staff line no one remembered existed, they needed to believe Sadi had stepped away from Victor's protection.

Still, when she answered and heard Victor's silence, guilt pressed against her ribs.

"Don't start," she said.

"I haven't spoken."

"Your silence is shouting."

Mara's mouth twitched despite everything.

Victor's voice was flat. "You hung up on me."

"I hung up near you. For effect."

"I didn't enjoy the effect."

"It wasn't designed for enjoyment."

Another silence.

This one felt different.

"You lied about a copy," he said.

Sadi looked down at her bandaged hands.

"Maybe."

"Sadi."

There was that tone again, the one that made her name feel less like an employee record and more like something he was trying not to hold too tightly.

"I don't know if it's a lie," she admitted. "When I thought the drive was junk, I showed Sam over video because he likes tech. He told me old flash drives can be copied automatically if you plug them into a smart TV with the right port."

Sam's voice came from the sofa, weak but proud.

"I said maybe."

Sadi pointed at him. "You are supposed to be recovering, not contributing commentary."

Victor said, "Where is this TV?"

"Staff lounge."

Mara leaned forward.

"Did you plug it in?"

"For a second. I wanted to see if it had a name so I could tag it for lost and found. It showed a folder, then the screen froze. I pulled it out."

Sam lifted one hand. "Depending on the system, cached thumbnails or partial file directories could still be there."

Victor exhaled once.

"That's why Mick bit. He doesn't know whether it's possible either."

"Will it help Nicky?" Sadi asked.

"If they believe you have the only leverage not in their hands, yes."

"Then use me."

"No."

"Victor—"

"We use the story. Not you."

At the clinic, Paul listened with hollow eyes.

"If she can draw them out—"

"She doesn't go near them," Victor said.

"It's my son."

"And if they take her too, we have two hostages and fewer options."

Paul looked away, ashamed by relief and rage in equal measure.

Sadi heard the exchange through the phone and understood something about Victor that he probably preferred hidden.

He did not only command men.

He carried the moment they broke.

Mick called back seventeen minutes later.

This time Victor listened from a separate line while Mara sat beside Sadi with a notepad.

"You made a mistake hanging up," Mick said.

"No," Sadi replied. "I made a point."

"You've grown teeth because Costello smiled at you?"

"Victor doesn't smile."

"Careful."

"I have the copy. I want Sam and Nicky safe. I want my debt gone. And I want written proof that Sam's grant doesn't disappear when Senator Caldwell gets angry."

Mick laughed.

"Listen to the maid negotiating like a lawyer."

"I clean rich people's messes. I know what paperwork matters."

Mick's laughter faded.

"Where is it?"

"Public place. Noon tomorrow. You bring Nicky. Alive. Unhurt."

"And Costello?"

"Victor doesn't know I'm calling."

The lie came easier than it should have.

Maybe because some terrified part of her wanted it to be true. Not because she wanted distance from Victor, but because she hated needing him. Need was a door other people kept finding.

Mick gave her a location.

The old train station market.

Crowded. Loud. Full of exits.

Perfect for betrayal.

After he hung up, Victor said nothing for a long moment.

"That was good," Mara said.

Sadi looked at the phone.

"Why does that not feel like a compliment?"

"Because being good at fear is expensive."

The next morning, Sadi insisted on going to the staff lounge herself.

Victor refused four times. She won on the fifth by pointing out that the old smart TV only responded to the staff remote, which was kept in a tin of batteries nobody but housekeeping could open without dumping everything onto the floor.

"That is the worst security system I've ever heard of," Victor said.

"That's because rich people secure vaults and forget junk drawers."

He looked at her for a second too long.

"You're enjoying being right."

"A little."

The staff lounge smelled of old coffee and lemon disinfectant. Victor stood by the door while Sadi knelt in front of the TV cabinet and removed the back panel.

Her hands hurt. He noticed.

"Let me."

"You don't know which wire is loose."

"Do you?"

"No, but I look less ridiculous finding out."

This time, Victor almost smiled.

Almost.

Sam guided them over video from the safe house, pale but animated by the chance to be useful.

"Go to storage," he said. "Then external cache. If the TV recognized the drive, there might be a folder name. Maybe preview files."

Sadi clicked through menus until a file list appeared.

Most folders were empty.

One was not.