Beatrice didn't waste any time after closing Haelyn's bedroom door. For her, a well-thought-out plan was an asset that had to be executed immediately before it turned into doubt.
Beatrice didn't head to her own room. Instead, she turned toward the back staircase connecting the main building to the pavilion area and the service garage.
Beatrice stopped at the garage doorway. Her sharp gaze immediately locked onto a middle-aged man sitting on a wooden chair, cleaning a set of wrenches. It was Arthur, the family's trusted driver who had served them since Beatrice's late father-in-law was still in charge.
"Arthur," Beatrice greeted him coldly.
Arthur startled. He stood up immediately, nervously setting down his wrenches. He bowed his head deeply, not daring to meet Beatrice's gaze, which seemed capable of peeling away anyone's secrets.
"Madam. I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd be coming this late," Arthur said hoarsely.
