He had oiled it himself the night before, kneeling longer than necessary in the quiet hallway, turning the latch back and forth until even the faintest whisper of friction disappeared. Precision mattered. Silence mattered.
The billionaire pretended to go on a trip to catch the nanny… but what he saw upon secretly returning left him speechless. There was no creaking of the lock. Don Roberto had personally oiled the bolts the night before, setting the stage for his perfect trap. The house was shrouded in that deceptive stillness that…
