. "Some lies aren't told to be believed — just to break someone."_Unknown
Maeve sat on her bed long after the piano room incident, fingers idly tracing the hem of her sleeve.
That melody… the look in his eyes… it didn't match the man everyone feared.
Why did he stop playing?
The way he walked out, like he was closing a door he hadn't touched in years.
---
Next day.
Katya's voice was piercing.
"Find it! Every single one of you is going to speak until I get my necklace!"
Maids stood in a line, heads bowed, trembling. A few security men hovered nearby, unsure if they were meant to interfere. Ivan, arms folded, tried reasoning with her—but Katya shoved him off.
Maeve descended the stairs, her brows drawn together. "What's going on?"
One of the younger maids glanced between Katya and Maeve, her voice shaky. "I... I think I saw her wearing it. Around two o'clock. It looked like the one you described, ma'am."
Katya turned like a viper.
Silence.
All eyes turned to Maeve.
She stiffened. "I don't even know what you're talking about. I've never seen your necklace—let alone touch it."
"You little—!" Katya marched toward her, hand raised.
And then—
He appeared.
Levi stood a few steps behind Maeve. If looks could kill, Katya would have been chopped meat.
She stopped immediately, her hand suspended midair. "Levi, I—she—"she stuttered. "My maid saw her take my necklace. This is what happens when you show a lowlife a glimpse of wea—"
"Watch your tongue," he said coldly, his eyes giving a stern warning.
Maeve looked back at him. He hadn't looked at her yet, but she felt the quiet shield of his presence settle over her.
"Maeve," he said calmly, "did you take anything from Katya?"
"No," she answered clearly. "I've never even entered her room."
Katya scoffed. "She's lying! She probably slipped in and—"
"The maid said it was around two o'clock," Levi cut in, turning slowly to face the girl. "You're sure of the time?"
Her eyes widened. "Y-yes, sir. Around two. I'm sure."
He stared at her, gaze like an executioner's blade.
"I was with Maeve then," he said calmly.
A breath passed. The girl's knees almost buckled. "I— I must've been mistaken. I'm so sorry—I didn't see clearly. It was probably someone else. I apologize." She turned to Katya, desperation in her eyes.
Katya didn't even glance at her.
"Take her out." Levi said to the security men at the side.
They stepped forward, gripping the maid by her arms.
"No—please—" she sobbed, "Sir, I didn't mean— I just thought—"
"You should've thought before you opened your mouth," Levi said flatly. "You're done here."
Maeve looked away as the girl was dragged out, her wails fading into the hall.
Katya stood still, eyes darting, cheeks burning. Everyone was watching her—judging.
Levi gave her one last glance. "Stop with the games Katya, you are only here because you're a relative."
Then he turned and left.
---
Later.
Maeve walked silently with Noelle. Whispers faded as they passed.
Noelle smirked to herself but didn't say anything until they were out of earshot.
"That was something," she murmured.
Maeve nodded absently. Her thoughts spun.
Katya had looked... humiliated. Not just by being wrong, but by the fact Levi hadn't defended her.
In Katya's world, that must've felt like a war crime.
From the corner of her eye, Maeve noticed her reflection in one of the mansion's tall windows. The gown she wore earlier still clung softly to her frame.
"I was with Maeve then."
He had said that in front of everyone.
No detail. No explanation. Just a quiet wall that couldn't be questioned.
A protective lie that wasn't a lie.
And Katya? She'd felt the burn of it.
***
Anton dropped a thin file onto the desk.
"That's all there is. Which is... not much."
Levi raised a brow. "She's twenty-two. Don't tell me that's her whole life."
"No school beyond secondary. No phone, no social media footprint. No job record. Just… fragments. One dance certificate from a local studio—dated five years ago. And a library card she probably wasn't allowed to use."
Levi sat back. "What the hell was she doing all that time?"
Anton hesitated. Then quietly: "Being invisible, it seems. According to a neighbor—an older woman with a loud mouth—Maeve was more housekeeper than niece. Always cleaning, running errands, keeping out of sight. Said she wasn't allowed visitors. Didn't even get birthday presents. The aunt called her 'the extra mouth.'"
Levi said nothing. Just stared at the file, suddenly heavy in the chest.
Anton added, more carefully, "One of the cousins went to university abroad. Maeve didn't even get a look-in. Said she 'wasn't worth the investment.'"
Levi's fingers curled slightly on the desk. He didn't realize he was gripping the edge.
He thought of the way she moved around the mansion, as if she didn't belong. The way she never asked for anything. Not once.
He had clawed his way out of something cold too. But at least he'd had a name. At least someone taught him to fight.
Maeve? She'd been taught to disappear.
"We're more alike than I thought," Levi murmured.