102

102

Mason's POV

Something was off and I didn't like it.

I sat in my study, swirling a glass of whiskey, staring at nothing in particular. The scent of leather and old books filled the air, the dim candlelight flickering against the walls.

I was never one to care about the minor details of the mansion's upkeep. Cleaning schedules? Who gave a damn? That was someone else's problem.

But today, I'd noticed something.

Something small, something insignificant. E that it wasn't.

Emily.

Bethany's little shadow. She cleaned Bethany's room every single day.

Every single day.

That wasn't normal.

The staff rotated through chores regularly. No one was assigned to the same task every damn day unless I ordered it—and I sure as hell hadn't ordered that.

So why was she there so often?

I took a sip of my drink, rolling the thought around in my mind.

Was Bethany plotting something?

No.