I saw how he looked at Bella.

  So I’m not the only one affected.

  Arthur’s face was calm, unreadable, but I’ve known him all my life. I’ve seen that flash in his eyes before—once when he found an antique mourning brooch buried in a casket, and another time when Father handed him the keys to the business. It was interest. Curiosity. Possession.

  My dear, cold-hearted brother isn't immune to Bella.

  “Miss Bella,” Arthur began, crossing his fingers like he always does when he’s about to play mind games, “this job requires you to stay late. Doesn’t that go against what you just said?”

  Classic Arthur. Gentle voice, hard words. He wasn’t asking—he was digging.

  Bella didn’t flinch. She looked like she had been waiting for this exact question. Her shoulders squared and a strange smile tugged at her lips. Not a full one, not yet. “That’s why I want this job, Mr. Woods. I plan to move into the staff quarters with my grandmother. That way, I can work late and still take care of her without compromise.” Her voice was steady, her eyes scanning the panel, and finally landing on Arthur. “Also, I know there’s an in-house doctor at Brooks & Sons Co.”

  I leaned back, impressed. “You’ve done your homework,” I muttered.

  Arthur’s face didn’t move, but I saw the twitch at the corner of his jaw.

  “I must say,” I added, louder this time, “I’m impressed, Miss Bell—Isabella.” She gave me a nod, one that was cool and brief but lingered in my mind far longer than it should have.

  Arthur wasn't done.

  “And as you can see, Miss Woods,” he said, his voice slipping into a darker timbre, “this place is surrounded by graves. Hundreds of them. Aren’t you afraid?”

  Oh boy.

  I knew what was coming. I could almost mouth the words before she did.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Mr. Brooks…” Bella paused, letting silence draw attention, “only the dead are in graves. How can the dead harm the living? And to answer your question—no sir, I’m not afraid. Not unless I’m the one lying in one.”

  Arthur’s mouth curled—not into a smile, but something sharper, more intrigued. His fists unclenched. I’ve only seen him do that when he’s made a decision.

  He turned to Mr. Robin and said, “We’ve found the one. Tell the rest to leave.”

  Just like that. No more questions. No more games.

  Arthur turned to Bella, the authority in his voice almost ceremonial. “When can you join?”

  Bella looked stunned for a moment. Then her face lit up like a child told they could keep the stray puppy they’d been hiding in the backyard.

  “Thank you, Mr. Brooks,” she said, her words running over each other. “I’ll work my best. I won’t let you down. I can start tomorrow.”

  And just like that, Isabella Woods was hired.

  I stood, smoothed down my coat, and walked over to her. “So, Miss Bell… Isabella.” I smiled. “Congratulations. The best candidate got the job.”

  She responded in a tone that was suddenly robotic, professional, detached. “Thank you, Mr. Brooks.”

  Ah, the old Bella had vanished behind a curtain.

  “Please,” I said, gesturing casually, “call me Luther. I’m not your boss. He is.” I tilted my chin toward Arthur, who was watching us like a hawk from across the room, eyes locked on me like I was trespassing on sacred ground.

  She shook her head lightly. “Mr. Brooks, you’re part of Brooks & Sons Co., too. Technically, that makes you my boss as well. And I apologize for not recognizing you earlier. It won’t happen again.” Her voice was cool, almost unreadable.

  Then she turned on her heel and began to walk away.

  I caught up beside her. “Okay, apology accepted,” I said quickly. “And I’m sorry, too—for not being upfront. Technically, I was just another panelist today.”

  She didn’t slow down. “I understand.”

  “Let me at least show you to your desk?” I offered. “Maybe even treat you to coffee?”

  She stopped briefly, turned toward me, and said, “I don’t like coffee, Mr. Brooks. But thank you for the generous offer.” She bowed slightly, politely, and continued walking.

  Stung, I stood there as Mr. Robin intercepted her and began explaining paperwork and formalities. I watched her nod along, watched her glance back at me when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  But I was. I always am.

  They disappeared around the corner, and I was still standing there when I felt it.

  A hand on my left shoulder.

  Tight grip.

  Like a vice.

  “I hope you haven’t forgotten the rules, brother,” Arthur whispered in a low, cutting tone. Not a question. A warning.

  I chuckled. I didn’t flinch.

  “Of course not,” I said, peeling his hand away from my shoulder. “I’m the one who made them.”

  But I didn’t look back at him. I kept staring at the hallway where she disappeared.

  Because for the first time in years, I wanted to break every single one.