Chapter 10 - THE TRUTH ABOUT THE BROKEN VASE
The vase had not been an accident.
I learned that in February.
Luca called me to the estate after investigators uncovered additional security footage.
I sat in Nicholas's study while Luca opened a recording from the hallway camera.
The timestamp showed Christmas Eve.
6:42 p.m.
Richard stood near the staircase.
He glanced toward the entrance.
Then reached down and pulled a section of silver garland across the marble floor.
He positioned it directly in the path between the staircase and the console.
I stared.
The video continued.
Richard stepped away.
Moments later, I appeared carrying decorations.
He called me over.
Ordered me to move the vase.
I walked toward the console.
My shoe caught the garland.
The vase fell.
I covered my mouth.
“He did that on purpose.”
Nicholas's expression was grim.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Luca opened another document.
Richard had been trying to dismiss several employees before the payroll audit began.
He had already prepared termination paperwork for me.
The broken vase gave him an excuse.
But there was something else.
The vase was not an irreplaceable family heirloom.
It was a reproduction purchased fifteen years earlier.
Its insurance value was less than three hundred dollars.
I stared at the report.
“Three hundred?”
Nicholas nodded.
“Richard told you it belonged to my grandfather.”
I began laughing.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I'd nearly frozen to death over an object worth less than one month's groceries.
Then the laughter broke.
I started crying.
Nicholas moved toward me.
Stopped.
“May I?”
I nodded.
He sat beside me.
I leaned against his shoulder.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then I whispered:
“I thought I'd ruined everything.”
Nicholas looked down.
“You didn't ruin anything.”
I closed my eyes.
“I was so scared.”
“I know.”
His voice was rough.
“I know.”
I looked up.
“Why are you being so kind to me?”
He hesitated.
Then answered:
“Because you deserve kindness.”
My heart tightened.
“And because I care about you.”
The room became very quiet.
Nicholas looked at me.
“I don't want you to feel pressured by that.”
I swallowed.
“I don't.”
He waited.
Then I said:
“I care about you too.”
His expression changed.
Hope.
Fear.
Something almost boyish.
But he didn't kiss me.
May you like
Instead, he took my hand.
And for that moment, it was enough.
