Chapter 2 - The Inside View
Grace returned a few minutes later, clutching a thick, gray woolen sweater against her chest. She passed it discreetly through the iron bars of the gate, her eyes scanning the long driveway to make sure no other guards were watching from the terraces.
"It’s not much, but it’s warm," she said, her breath fogging in the cool morning air.
"Why do you care?" Adrian asked, his curiosity finally overriding his caution as a billionaire used to controlling everything. "Most people would have walked away, or called the police like your friend Victor."
Grace paused, her gaze drifting past him toward the massive, sprawling limestone mansion in the distance. "I grew up with very little, sir. I know what it’s like to be looked at as if you’re a ghost, invisible to the world. Mr. Whitmore... he’s a man who believes in absolute power and perfection, but he doesn't seem to believe in basic human decency. I try every day to make sure I don't become like that."
Adrian felt a sharp, burning sting of guilt right in the center of his chest. Was that truly how his staff perceived him? As a cold machine who saw human beings merely as assets or disposable liabilities?
"What's your name?" he asked quietly.
"Grace Miller," she replied, offering a faint, tired smile that reached her eyes. "And you really should move on. The night shift guard, Mr. Henderson, is much less patient than Victor. If he finds you lingering here, he won't use words; he'll use his club."
Adrian nodded, clutching the heavy woolen sweater tightly around his shoulders. "Thank you, Grace Miller. You might have just saved me more than you realize."
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She laughed softly, a genuine sound of amusement echoing in the quiet morning. "Saved you? It's just a sweater. Go find somewhere warm to get some sleep."
As she walked back toward the mansion to resume her duties, Adrian stood in the shadows. He knew he had a lot of work to do, starting from the very top of his management chain down to the security booth.
