Scene 1 (The Night of Three)
The door to Aaron's room banged open, and in a matter of seconds, there was a rush of footsteps. Marcus and Alexa practically spilled inside together, as their breaths were quick and urgent. The little boy sat upright in bed, and his small fists knuckled his eyes as tears clung stubbornly to his lashes. His sheets were also tangled, and his chest heaving as though he'd been running through some terrible dream.
"Papa!" Aaron's voice cracked; it was raw with fear. He stretched his arms out toward Marcus, sobbing into his father's chest the second he was within reach. "Don't leave me again! Don't go!"
Marcus's jaw tightened, and his hand smoothed down his son's hair; it was firm but trembling at the edges. "I'm right here, Aaron. I'm not going anywhere tonight." His voice was gentler than Alexa had ever heard it. It was like it belonged to someone entirely different from the cold, commanding man who interrogated spies in his study.
Aaron sniffed, then turned his watery gaze to Alexa, as if suddenly remembering she was there. "You too," he said, as his little voice was wobbling. "Don't leave me either. Both of you stay. Please. Sleep beside me."
The room froze.
Alexa blinked. She was startled, her hand even tightened around the edge of her slim night robe. Marcus's head snapped toward his son, and then back toward her; his face was then carved in disbelief. They stared at each other over Aaron's locks like two adults caught in a strange, unspoken contract they hadn't signed.
"Aaron…" Marcus started, his tone somewhere between firm and pleading. "That's not—"
But before he could finish, Aaron's small body went rigid with another tantrum. He kicked at the blankets, fists pounding the mattress. "No! You always leave! You both do! If you love me, stay here! Both of you!" His cries came like waves, as it was desperate and piercing.
Alexa's throat tightened. She had faced danger without flinching, fought shadows without a heartbeat's hesitation, but this: a child's heartbroken demand, left her almost defenseless. With a soft sigh, she climbed onto the bed, then she slipped behind Aaron, curling her arm around him, pulling him gently against her chest. "Shh… It's okay. I'm here."
Aaron quieted just enough to cling to her, his small fingers gripping her wrist like she was an anchor. His breathing steadied slightly, but though hiccups still rattled through him.
Marcus, still standing stiff at the bedside, let out a controlled breath and reluctantly sat on the other side. He smoothed his son's hair again, as his large hand brushed down to the pillow. Somehow, as Aaron nestled between them, his tiny body bridged theirs, and Marcus's hand brushed against Alexa's in the dark.
A spark. Barely there, as it was fleeting… but undeniable.
Neither pulled away.
Alexa swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on the ceiling while Marcus's gaze lingered on his son, though his awareness of her was sharp as a blade. For a fragile, wordless moment, they looked less like they were strangers brought together by circumstance, and more like something dangerous—something whole.
At the door, however, another pair of eyes watched the three.
Nina.
She clenched her hand at the edge of the doorframe so tightly her knuckles went bone-white. Rage burned through her chest like fire that was busy licking up dry wood. She had followed Marcus in a half-dream of worry, but what she found instead was unbearable: Alexa—that outsider—in the place Nina had always imagined for herself.
Her breath came ragged, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and venom.
"They look like…" she whispered to herself, her lips trembling, "…a family."
The thought alone made her stomach twist. As she turned sharply, her skirt swishing as she stormed back to her quarters. Slamming the door behind her, she pressed her back to the wood, her chest rising and falling as fury and heartbreak warred inside her.
Her voice cracked in the silence as she began her bitter monologue. "No… no, she can't take this from me. I've given everything to this house. To him. And now… now she thinks she belongs?" Her nails dug into her palms until they stung her. "I'll show her. I'll show them all."
And in the darkness of her room, Nina's jealousy bloomed like a poisoned rose, ready to choke everything it touched.
Scene 2 (Nina's Poisoned Heart)
Nina paced her small quarters like she was a caged animal, as her bare feet dragged across the creaky wood. The air was thick with her fury, and every breath catching like a spark ready to ignite something catastrophic. She gripped the vanity's edge so tightly it groaned under her fingers, and her reflection in the mirror stared back with wide, glassy eyes—feverish, wild, and wounded.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, as the image of Alexa curled protectively around Aaron while Marcus sat just inches away replayed in her head again and again until it burned into her brain. The sight had cut deeper than any knife.
"That should've been me," she whispered roughly to her reflection. "It was supposed to be me."
Her lips trembled before they curled into a bitter smile. "I've been here longer than her!. I've been loyal. I've served. I've waited. Every day, every night, I thought… someday. Someday, he would look at me and see more than just a maid, that someday, he would finally realize..."
Her voice cracked as tears made her vision blurry, though they weren't soft or fragile tears; they were jagged and poisoned, and then she immediately wiped them angrily with the back of her hand.
"But instead… he brought her." Nina spat the word like it was venom. "Snow-haired, perfect-eyed Alexa. With her mysterious little smiles and her obviously hidden secrets. Do they not see? She's dangerous. She's not here for him, or for Aaron—she's here for herself. And I'll be the one to expose her."
Nina's fingers then trailed across the mirror's surface, tracing her own reflection as if painting her fantasy. Her voice softened into a dreamy murmur; words soaked in yearning.
"Sometimes I imagine it—me, standing beside Marcus. I'm holding Aaron's hand. We'd look like a family... We would be a family. I'd be his safe place. His confidant. The one who understands his grief, his loss. Not Alexa! Not her!!"
Her eyes darkened as her mouth twisted. "Even Rosalina… even she had what I deserved. She had his love first; she stole what should've been mine." A sob tore through her throat. It was ragged and broken before dissolving into a bitter laugh. "I hated her for it. I hated every perfect smile, every time she touched his arm, every look he gave her that I wished was for me."
Nina's nails dug into her palms, leaving faint crescents of red. "And now she's gone. Gone, and I thought finally… finally, I'd have my chance. But then Alexa walked in, and he looked at her like he looked at Rosalina, and it makes me sick!"
Her voice dropped into a growl, thick with venom. "She thinks she can replace me? Replace Rosalina? No, I will never let that happen while I'm still alive and breathing under this mansion. I'll rip that mask off her face. I'll show Marcus who she really is. And when I do, he'll come to me. He'll see who's truly loyal, unlike that..."
Nina's laugh echoed in the room—half-sob, half-madness. "I won't lose again. Not to her. Not to anyone."
Her reflection seemed to sneer back at her as she leaned close to the mirror, her whisper so soft it was almost frightening.
"I took out everyone I needed to…" She smiled, sharp and trembling. "…and you won't be the last."
And with that confession hanging in the air like smoke from a dying flame, the room sank into silence. The fury still crackled in her eyes, her shadow stretching long and warped across the floor.
But for Alexa—for Marcus—for anyone in that house—this was just the beginning of Nina's vengeance.