It was six o'clock in the evening. Outside, the storm was raging. Lightning flashed across the sky. The entire staff was in a panic, preparing for the arrival of the new heir, Kearney Bernard.
Barnaby, a senior footman, stood on top of a tall wooden ladder in the grand foyer. He was polishing the massive crystal chandelier. His legs were shaking from exhaustion.
Emmett walked past the ladder, carrying a bucket of water. He glanced up. He saw Barnaby's knees trembling.
Suddenly, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the windows. A second later, a massive crack of thunder shook the floorboards.
Barnaby screamed. He panicked and stepped backward. His foot missed the wooden rung. He fell backward into empty space. Emmett's body instinctively surged forward, his hand reaching out to catch the falling man. But the distance was too great, and the heavy bucket in his hand threw off his balance. He watched, a cold sliver of guilt piercing his chest, as Barnaby hit the hard marble floor.
A loud, sickening crack echoed through the foyer. Barnaby grabbed his leg and screamed in agony. His shin bone was broken.
Elias ran into the foyer. He looked at Barnaby writhing on the floor. Elias's face turned purple with rage. "You useless fool! The dinner service is in an hour!"
Security guards ran in and dragged Barnaby away.
Elias rubbed his temples. He looked around wildly at the terrified lower servants. They needed a senior footman to pour the wine tonight. It was a critical job.
Elias's eyes locked onto Emmett. Emmett was standing perfectly still, holding his bucket. He looked completely calm.
"You," Elias pointed a shaking finger at Emmett. "Go to the locker room. Put on Barnaby's tailcoat. You are serving the wine tonight."
Rory gasped. He looked at Emmett with pure, hateful jealousy.
Emmett didn't smile. He just bowed his head. "Yes, sir."
Ten minutes later, Emmett stood in front of the mirror. He wore the black tailcoat of a senior footman. The custom tailoring fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. He pulled the crisp white silk gloves over his hands. He looked like a predator putting on a disguise.
A deep engine roar rumbled outside. A black, custom-built motorcar pulled up to the front doors.
Emmett walked into the foyer. He stood in line with the senior staff. He was positioned right next to the front door.
The car door opened. A man stepped out onto the red carpet.
Baron Kearney Bernard walked into the manor.
He was tall. His shoulder muscles were coiled tight, like a beast of prey ready to strike. He wore a dark, expensive wool coat. His skin was pale. His dark eyes were angry, paranoid, and completely hostile. He looked at the crystal chandelier like he wanted to smash it.
Viscount Corbin stepped forward. He forced a huge, fake smile onto his face. He opened his arms for a hug.
Kearney didn't stop walking. He shifted his shoulder and completely ignored the Viscount's arms.
"I don't care about your rules," Kearney said. His voice was deep, rough, and freezing cold. "Show me my room."
The Viscount's smile froze. The tension in the room was suffocating.
Clara immediately stepped forward. She put on her sweetest, most vulnerable smile.
"Brother Kearney," Clara said softly. "You must be so tired."
Kearney didn't even look at her face. His eyes moved past her.
His dark eyes locked onto Emmett.
Emmett was standing with his head bowed. But he felt the heavy, burning stare hit his skin. It felt like a physical weight.
The memories of his past life rushed in like a tidal wave. This was the man he had foolishly betrayed, the man who had died because of his blind ignorance. A suffocating grip of guilt seized Emmett's heart. Emmett's fingers curled tightly inside his white gloves.
Kearney stared at Emmett for three agonizing seconds. The silence in the room was deafening.
Then, Kearney pointed a long finger at Emmett.
"Him," Kearney commanded. "He will show me my room."
The Viscount gasped. Clara's sweet smile cracked. They couldn't believe the new heir was choosing a servant over them.
Emmett cursed in his head. He didn't want this. But he had no choice.
Emmett stepped forward. He kept his face completely blank. He bowed. "Right this way, my Lord."
Emmett turned and walked toward the grand staircase. He heard Kearney's heavy boots walking right behind him. He could feel Kearney staring at the back of his neck. Emmett felt like a rabbit being hunted by a starving wolf.
