Chapter 1
“Rachel, don’t turn it off.”
Those six words stopped my heart.
My finger froze above the Bluetooth speaker, and I slowly turned toward the doorway.
Dominic Vale was standing there.
Six-foot-three. Broad shoulders. Tattooed arms. Dressed entirely in black.
The most feared mafia boss in Westchester County had just caught his new housekeeper breaking the one rule nobody dared question.
NO MUSIC. EVER.
And somehow, instead of firing me, he said something even more terrifying.
“Bring that speaker tomorrow.”
I swallowed. “Why?”
His dark eyes never left mine.
“Because there’s something in this house I want you to hear.”
My name is Rachel Bennett. I’m twenty-nine years old, and six days earlier, I had accepted a housekeeping job at Dominic Vale’s enormous estate.
The salary was incredible.
The rules were strange.
And the silence was unbearable.
No radio. No humming. No singing.
Not even Christmas music.
Nobody explained why.
Unfortunately, I was about to find out.
That afternoon, Dominic wasn't supposed to return until evening.
So I made one spectacularly stupid decision.
I connected my Bluetooth speaker, turned the volume up, grabbed a feather duster, and transformed his luxurious formal parlor into my personal concert stage.
I sang.
I danced.
I even serenaded a marble statue.
What I didn't know was that Dominic returned at exactly 2:17 p.m.
And he wasn't alone.
Marcus Cole, his security chief, stood beside him.
When I finally spun around, both men were watching.
My soul practically left my body.
I lunged toward the speaker.
“I thought you were out!”
“I was,” Dominic replied.
“That explains why I thought you were out.”
Marcus immediately looked away, fighting a smile.
Dominic surveyed the spotless room, then the feather duster clutched in my hand.
“Was there an audience I wasn't informed about?”
“No, sir.”
He glanced at the statue.
“He looked impressed.”
For one impossible second, I thought the dangerous man might actually smile.
Instead, he gave me that mysterious instruction.
“Tomorrow. Bring the speaker.”
The next morning, at exactly 11:43, Marcus appeared.
“He's ready.”
“For what?”
Marcus looked at my bag.
“You know what.”
He escorted me upstairs, toward two enormous dark walnut doors in the forbidden west wing.
“Nobody gets invited in there,” he whispered.
Wonderful.
Dominic waited at the end of the hallway.
Without explanation, he unlocked a room.
And everything I thought I knew about him changed.
A magnificent grand piano stood beneath towering windows.
Hundreds of records covered the walls.
There were vintage speakers, a guitar, and stacks of handwritten sheet music.
But the photographs caught my attention.
A beautiful young woman with dark hair and a radiant smile appeared in almost every picture.
Sometimes she sat at the piano.
Sometimes she stood beside a much younger Dominic.
“Who is she?” I whispered.
“My sister.”
His expression softened.
“Her name was Sofia.”
“Was?”
“She died ten years ago.”
Suddenly, the mansion's suffocating silence made sense.
It wasn't about power.
It was about pain.
Dominic opened the piano bench and retrieved a small digital recorder.
“I found this behind a loose panel three days ago.”
He placed it in my trembling hands.
“Seventeen recordings. Sixteen are songs.”
“And the last one?”
His jaw tightened.
“I couldn't finish listening.”
“Why?”
“Because before it begins, Sofia says my name.”
I stared at him.
“Why do you want me here?”
He looked toward the photographs.
“Because yesterday was the first time music played in this house in ten years.”
His voice cracked almost imperceptibly.
“And I didn't want it to stop.”
Then he pressed play.
Static hissed.
A woman's voice emerged.
Warm. Gentle. Alive.
“Dom, if you're hearing this, then I finally found the courage to tell you the truth.”
Dominic went completely still.
Then Sofia whispered:
“The accident wasn't an accident.”
My blood turned cold.
“And the person responsible is still inside your house.”
Suddenly, a floorboard creaked outside.
Dominic's head snapped toward the locked door.
A shadow appeared beneath it.
Someone was standing there.
Listening.
May you like
Then, slowly...
The door handle began to turn.
