Arlan Aditama stood outside the teak wood door with mixed feelings. The wall clock in the corridor kept ticking, but Kenzo's usually deafening cries suddenly disappeared completely. Silent. The silence felt more intimidating to Arlan than his son's screams.
The two minutes he had promised had passed. His large hand gripped the doorknob, unsure whether he should barge in or wait longer. His mind drifted to Amara—the village girl who seemed so fragile, yet had the courage to drive him out of his own baby's room.
"What is she doing?" Arlan muttered under his breath. His earlier rage had now turned into a burning curiosity. Arlan was not used to being out of control. In his company, he was king. In this house, he was the ruler. But this little girl had just created her own territory inside his room.
Silently, Arlan inserted the spare key into the keyhole. He turned it slowly, so slowly that it didn't make the slightest clicking sound. He pushed the door open only a few inches, creating a small gap to peek inside.
Inside, the main lights had been turned off, leaving only the dim light from the bedside lamp in the corner of the room. Arlan squinted. He saw Amara bending over in front of Kenzo's crib. The girl was smoothing the baby's blanket with very gentle movements.
Kenzo was fast asleep. Really fast asleep. The baby's breath was regular, his tiny hands open beside his head, showing a peace that Arlan had not seen in weeks. No more red face from crying, no more frustrated struggles.
Amara hurriedly buttoned the top of her uniform. Her movements seemed awkward and full of panic. She repeatedly wiped the front of her clothes with her palms, as if something had spilled there.
Arlan pushed the door open completely and stepped inside. The sound of his shoes hitting the marble floor made Amara jump in surprise. The girl immediately turned around, her back to Kenzo's crib with a pale face.
"How did you do that?" Arlan's voice sounded like a sharp whisper in the silence of the night.
"Sir... w-when did you come in?" Amara's voice trembled. She looked down deeply, her hands clasping each other in front of her stomach, trying to cover her chest which seemed a little damper than before.
Arlan did not answer. He stepped closer to the crib and looked at his son. Kenzo was completely calm. But as Arlan approached, he inhaled a very strong scent in the air. It was not the sharp smell of canned formula. It was a sweet, warm, and very fresh scent. A scent that seemed to draw out the primitive side of Arlan.
"Why is he able to sleep so quickly? What did you give him?" Arlan turned and stared at Amara with his eagle eyes. He stepped forward, forcing Amara to retreat until her back hit the cold wall.
"I... I just cradled him, Sir. Maybe Kenzo just needs skin-to-skin contact to feel safe," Amara replied stammering. Her heart was beating so fast that she was afraid Arlan could hear it.
Arlan narrowed his eyes, looking at the slightly crooked collar of Amara's shirt. "Just cradling? Then why do you look so scared? And why are you sweating cold?"
Arlan raised his hand, his fingers almost touching Amara's shoulder. He could feel the heat radiating from the girl's body. Something was wrong, he knew it. This girl was hiding something very big behind her naive attitude.
"I don't like being lied to, Amara," Arlan whispered right in her ear, making Amara's hair stand on end. "If I find out you gave my son something dangerous to keep him quiet, I won't hesitate to throw you in jail."
Amara could only shake her head, tears starting to well up. "I would never hurt Kenzo, Sir. For God's sake... I just want him to be calm."
Arlan was silent for a moment, staring at Amara's trembling lips. The suspicion was still there, but the sweet aroma emanating from Amara's body was starting to intoxicate his logic. Arlan pulled his hand back, trying to restrain the strange passion that suddenly arose in the midst of his anger.
"Go to your room. Lasmi will show you where it is. Tomorrow morning, we will talk again. And remember one thing... never lock this room's door again when you are with Kenzo."
Amara nodded quickly and almost ran out of the room. Meanwhile, Arlan remained standing there, looking at his sleeping son while inhaling the remnants of the sweet scent that Amara had left behind. Arlan knew that this girl was no ordinary nanny. And he was determined to uncover what Amara was really hiding behind her uniform.
Amara half-ran down the wide and quiet second-floor corridor. The sound of her feet, which were only covered in thin socks, did not make a sound on the expensive wool carpet, but the echo of her own heartbeat felt like the beating of drums in her ears.
Every time she remembered Arlan's sharp gaze and how the man had cornered her against the wall earlier, her knees felt weak. She felt like a deer that had just escaped the clutches of a tiger, but she knew the tiger had not given up; he was just waiting for the right time to pounce again.
"Madam... Ms.Lasmi," Amara whispered when she saw the shadow of someone at the end of the hall near the pantry.
Lasmi, who was tidying up some milk bottles in the pantry, turned around with a worried face. "Amara? What's wrong? Your face is so pale, like you've seen a ghost."
Amara immediately approached Lasmi and gripped the woman's arm with a trembling hand. "Madam... where is my room? I want to rest. I... I'm afraid of making the wrong move."
Lasmi put down the bottle she was holding, then led Amara to the back area of the mansion, which was reserved for the workers, but was still far more luxurious than Amara's house in the village. "Did Mr. Arlan scold you? Or Mr. Kenzo wouldn't be quiet?"
"Mr. Kenzo is already asleep. Earlier, Mr. Arlan came in and... he was suspicious. He asked a lot of questions," Amara replied while trying to catch her breath. She could still feel the warmth of Kenzo's little mouth on her chest, and the dampness on her uniform made her feel very uncomfortable.
"Sstt, lower your voice," Lasmi opened a neat room with a soft single bed. "This is your room. Inside there is a small bathroom. You can clean yourself up there."
Lasmi closed the door and looked at Amara searchingly. "Mara, be honest with me. What did you do to make that baby so quiet? Usually, even if three people hold him, Mr. Kenzo won't stop screaming until his voice is gone."
Amara was silent, she turned her face away, not daring to look into Lasmi's experienced eyes. "I just... gave him what he needed, Madam. Love."
Lasmi sighed, assuming it was just a diplomatic answer from a naive girl. "Alright, you rest. But remember, Mara, Mr. Arlan is very thorough. He has cameras in almost every corner of this house, except in the bathroom and your private room. So, never do anything strange."
Amara's heart sank. Camera? So Arlan could see everything?
"C-camera, Mbak? Is there one in the baby's room too?" Amara asked with a voice that almost disappeared.
"There is, but Sir rarely checks it when he's busy at the office. But since his wife left, he's been monitoring it more often from his cell phone. Okay, don't think about it too much. The important thing is that Kenzo is calm. That's already a big plus for you," Lasmi said while patting Amara's shoulder before leaving the room.
As soon as the door closed and locked, Amara leaned her body against the door. She slid down to the floor, hiding her face between her knees. Her tears fell without permission. She lamented her fate of being trapped in this big lie for the sake of her family's economy.
She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, seeing the wet spots that formed circles on the fabric of her uniform. The smell of her own breast milk filled her senses—an aroma that had now become the source of her salvation as well as the source of her misfortune.
"Mom... Amara is scared," she whispered softly.
On the other side of the mansion, in his dark study, Arlan Aditama sat in his large chair. He was not checking the company's financial reports. His eyes were fixed on the large monitor screen that showed the CCTV footage of the baby's room a few minutes ago.
He replayed the part when Amara asked permission to be alone with Kenzo. Arlan watched every movement of Amara on the black and white screen. Although the camera angle did not clearly show what Amara was doing in the rocking chair because it was blocked by the high back of the chair, Arlan could see how Amara's back moved rhythmically, and how Kenzo, who had been struggling, suddenly became calm in an instant.
Arlan touched his own lips, remembering the sweet aroma he had smelled in the room earlier. "Little girl... what exactly did you give my son?" he muttered with a voice that was hoarse and full of suppressed passion.
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