Chapter 27

Delilah blinked, gathering herself. 

She looked at Ruby with that cool, indifferent expression she’d mastered over the years. 

"I disabled the audio because I felt like it," she replied, voice low but steady. "I found it unnecessary for you to be listening to my conversation."

Ruby scoffed, her arms dropping to her sides as she took a step forward. 

"Listening?" she echoed, her tone daring Delilah to challenge her. "Just admit it, Delilah—you’re keeping something from us. From me and Helen."

Delilah tilted her head, her eyes shifting to where Helen was quietly pulling up the blinds on the café’s front windows, her back to them as she worked. 

She gestured toward Helen. 

"Look at her, Ruby. She’s actually busy with work rather than suspecting me," Delilah said, her voice carrying a subtle hint of reproach.

Ruby turned, glancing over her shoulder at Helen, who was diligently adjusting the "Closed" sign, flipping it to "Open" without a second thought. 

She looked back at Delilah, a dry laugh escaping her lips. "Well, Helen probably doesn’t care about you, then."

Delilah’s gaze sharpened, her lips pressing into a faint smile, a chill threading through her words. 

"Helen does care," she countered, her eyes unblinking as she held Ruby’s stare. "But unlike you, she doesn’t push for answers that aren’t hers to demand. She knows when to focus on what actually needs to be done."

Without waiting for Ruby’s reaction, Delilah stepped past her, brushing against her shoulder as she moved to the opposite window. 

She gripped the cord of the remaining blind and pulled it up, letting light spill into the room. "Now, let’s get the café open. The customers won’t serve themselves."

Ruby watched her, mouth pressed into a thin line, but Delilah didn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. 

Instead, she walked to the counter, adjusting a few things.

---

Later that afternoon, after a busy day at the café, Delilah transferred Helen's payment—7.5% of the ten million dollars. 

Helen’s face lit up with excitement as she accepted the money, barely able to contain her joy. 

She gave Delilah a quick, grateful smile before rushing off, eager to pick up Zoe from school.

Ruby, too, had received her share, a generous 15%, but her reaction was different. 

Though she offered a thankful nod, Delilah could still feel Ruby’s lingering determination to figure out who Marco truly was to her. But for now, that curiosity would have to remain unanswered.

As evening approached and the café’s doors closed, Delilah made her way to Marco’s mansion. 

The cab's drive was quiet, giving her a rare moment to reflect. 

By the time she arrived, the setting sun cast a warm, golden glow across the grand entrance. 

Mrs. Hayden, Marco’s housekeeper, was waiting at the door.

"Welcome home, signora," Mrs. Hayden greeted her warmly, reaching out as if to offer help. "Shall I carry your bag?"

Delilah glanced down at her small clutch, amusement flickering across her face. 

It was hardly a "bag" by any stretch, but Mrs. Hayden’s eagerness to help was evident. 

Delilah wondered if Marco’s influence had softened the housekeeper’s initial hesitation toward her. 

She could guess he’d spoken to Mrs. Hayden about the incident with the black book.

Delilah offered a polite smile, her voice soft but firm. "There’s no need, thank you."

Mrs. Hayden nodded, but as Delilah moved to step inside, she sensed the housekeeper’s presence close behind her. 

She paused and turned, noticing a faint look of unease in Mrs. Hayden’s eyes.

"Is something on your mind?" Delilah asked, her gaze steady.

Mrs. Hayden shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with her fingers. "I… I wanted to apologize for prying into your book. It was wrong of me. I thought it looked… suspicious, but Sir Marco explained it was only a journal for your books." She bit her lip, her voice softening. "I misjudged you, and I’m truly sorry."

Delilah raised an eyebrow, letting the words linger. "As some kind of assassin, right?"

Mrs. Hayden’s fingers fidgeted more, but Delilah reached out, resting a hand on her shoulder. The older woman seemed to shiver slightly under the touch.

"I’m just a simple woman running a café," Delilah said softly, her gaze firm but almost teasing. She lifted her hand, showing her clean palm. "See? No blood here. You really should trust me, Mrs. Hayden. I’m not the person you imagine."

Mrs. Hayden gave a quick nod, eyes downcast. "I trust you, signora."

"Good," Delilah replied. Satisfied, she smiled faintly. "I’ll be heading up to rest now."

"Of course," Mrs. Hayden murmured, bowing her head as Delilah made her way toward the staircase.

The truth was, Delilah knew Marco must have spoken firmly with Mrs. Hayden after he returned from his earlier visit to the café. 

Marco obviously had a way of handling things, ensuring no one meddled with his affairs, and clearly, he’d put the matter to rest.

Once upstairs, Delilah walked toward the bedroom, her thoughts drifting to the day’s events. 

But as she passed the library, she heard faint voices from within, piquing her curiosity. 

She moved quietly to the door, easing it open just enough to peer inside.

Through the slight gap, she saw two men standing near Gino. 

One was overweight and bald, while the other was lean and sharply dressed. Their faces held a certain intensity, their low voices discussing something in guarded tones.

Gino spoke, his tone calm yet demanding. "Boss wants the financial reports now. Hand them over, so we don’t waste any more time."

The lean man reached into his bag, pulling out a stack of documents. "Everything’s here, organized by quarter. You’ll see the numbers match up perfectly."

Gino took the papers, skimming through them with a practiced eye. "They’d better. You know how Boss is with precision."

The bald man swallowed, his eyes darting nervously. "We’ve double-checked everything, Gino. No discrepancies."

Gino grunted. "Good. Boss doesn’t tolerate mistakes, not with the kind of stakes we’re handling."

Delilah held her breath, her mind racing as she took in the scene. These weren’t ordinary men—they were part of Marco’s world, a world she was only beginning to glimpse.

Suddenly, she sensed a presence behind her. 

A low, familiar voice whispered close to her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"What are you doing, Delilah? Snooping on me?"