Chapter 2 The Dangerous Offer

The silence in the small room was absolute. Beatriz barely dared to breathe. Darkness enveloped her, along with the smell of old wood and candlewax. Outside, Mrs. Moura's footsteps slowly faded into the hallway, followed by a tense calm. Beatriz's heart hammered in her chest. She wondered what to do. Wait? Run away? Look for her mother without getting caught again? Before she could decide, the door creaked open. The dim light in the hallway outlined Eduardo Moura's silhouette, outlined like a ghost against the night. "Get out," he ordered in a low voice. Beatriz took a step back, suspicious. "I'm not going to give you up," he added, as if reading her thoughts. "Not yet." The way he drew out that last word made Beatriz's skin crawl. She stepped out cautiously. She was only inches away from him. Eduardo was taller, his impeccable clothes contrasting starkly with his rags. He had a dangerous, almost insolent aura, like someone who had always gotten everything he wanted... and was deciding if she would be his next diversion. "What's your name?" he asked. She hesitated. "Beatriz," he whispered. A half-smile curved Eduardo's lips. "Beatriz," he repeated, as if testing the sound on his mouth. "The seamstress's daughter?" She nodded silently. She knew that her mother, though invisible to the masters, was well-known. Her mother mended the dresses of the ladies of the house, sewing secrets and humiliations between each stitch. Eduardo looked her up and down, as if evaluating an object of curiosity. "Why risk so much to come here?" he asked, tilting his head. Beatriz swallowed. She didn't want to tell him about Tomás. She didn't want that arrogant young man to know how desperate she was. "I need my mother. My brother... is sick," she finally murmured, lowering her gaze. For the first time, a trace of seriousness crossed Eduardo's face. His lips pursed, as if that word-illness-were an unexpected crack in his game night. "I could call the guards," he said, crossing his arms. "I could accuse you of attempted theft." Beatriz felt her legs tremble. She took a step back, ready to run. But Eduardo raised a hand, stopping her. "I won't," he added, his tone softening slightly. "On one condition." She raised her head, suspicious. "What condition?" she asked. Eduardo smiled, that slow, dangerous smile that must have broken more than one heart. "He works for me." "What...?" She blinked, confused. "I need someone who isn't officially a servant. Someone discreet." Her eyes shone. "I'll pay you. Better than what you earn mending rags. Better than any misery you've ever known." Beatriz opened her mouth, but found no words. She knew this wasn't just any offer. It was a trap disguised as an opportunity. And yet, Tomás's feverish face appeared before her eyes. The money. The medicine. The chance to get him out of that hell. Eduardo took a step closer. "Think fast, Beatriz. Opportunities don't last long here." And in that instant, Beatriz understood two things: First, that her life was about to change forever. And second, that Eduardo Moura was dangerous in a way she couldn't yet comprehend... but that she was already beginning to feel burning under her skin.