Fallen Petals

By Esterina Santacroce

Serena Reyes understands that living and working at the Hollister estate after the tragic death of her mother would not be easy, but little did she know it would lead to unforeseen life-altering consequences. Struggling to make a crucial decision regarding her aspirations for the future, she continues to evade the unwanted attentions of a sadistic predator while falling in love with a man who possesses secrets of his own. Striving for independence and love in her life, Serena must persevere as the astounding mysteries at the estate are revealed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Esterina Santacroce
• Release date: May 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781775062554

Esterina Santacroce

Writing is a passion of mine. It aids in relieving some of my anxieties and fears of the world. Living with anxiety alters your sense of self. My hope is others will find their own release, just as writing helps me make it through my life. Always remember to be kind to others and know you are not alone in your struggle.

Book preview

Title

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s creative imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2022 Esterina Santacroce

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission by the publisher, except for brief quotations for articles and reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-7750625-4-7 (paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-7750625-5-4 (ebook)

For my sister, Julia.

A true confidant.

Thank you for inspiring me with your love and support.

Love you always.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 1

The distinct colors of the trees surrounding the grand estate in Greenwich, Connecticut, had changed vividly as the peak of mid-fall approached, accentuating the splendor of the old oak tree. A rustic swing made of lacquered wood suspended by thick, brown ropes hung from the great oak. Serena swung herself back and forth. She loved the way the wind stirred the branches, making the leaves dance and mixing the colors of fall together. This was her favorite time of year. In all the time she’d spent on this swing, she had never considered venturing out on her own, until now. She thought about the offer Mr. Hollister had made earlier that day. With a few words, he had provided Serena with the opportunity she needed to pursue her future ambitions in fashion; an industry she dreamed of becoming a part of. His generous proposal would help her move to New York, providing an apartment and everything she needed to attend Parsons, the New School for Design, even ensuring her early acceptance into the program. Serena should have been filled with excitement, but instead the offer had made her anxious and the fear of failure occupied her mind. How could she accept such charity from her late mother’s employer? An incessant voice in the back of Serena’s mind told her she would never have approved; Selma had taught her daughter to work hard for everything she had.

Serena had lived at the Hollister estate for fifteen years now, since she was ten years old. When her mother assumed her position as the head-of-staff, she did so on the condition that Serena receive the best education, homeschooled alongside the Hollister children. A few years later, when she turned sixteen, she joined her mother and the rest of the staff in maintaining the household to the Hollisters’ extravagant standards. Throughout the years, the estate had become Serena’s home and the surrounding property her playground. The landscape around the entire estate flourished with an assortment of well-kept potted plants and flowers in spring and summer, while in winter the many snow-covered evergreens resembled a portrait of a picturesque winter wonderland. Over the years, strolling the grounds in her leisure time she would wander through the greenhouse, lay by the pool capturing the sun’s energy when no one was around, and sit on the steps of the gazebo looking up at the stars that shone in the clear night sky. The great oak had also served her well in her time at the estate. It became a place of reflection, somewhere she could absorb the books her mother bought her and daydream about love. Whenever she sat on this swing, she imagined that she could touch the sky if only she propelled herself high enough. When her mother was alive, she reminded her daily that the house was only a place of work, a roof over their heads, but Serena felt incredibly fortunate that this was her home.

As she swung, a breeze raised her light, cotton skirt over her knees, exposing her tanned thighs. Serena couldn’t help but smile; she felt such freedom on that swing. A pink flip-flop dangled from her right foot; on her next swing, she knew it would fall to the ground. She chuckled as it landed on the soft grass.

When she looked up, Sam, the Hollisters’ new grounds-

keeper, was staring at her from the greenhouse’s open double doors. He smiled and began to walk in her direction. Blushing, Serena returned his smile letting the swing slow on its own. She’d had a handful of brief conversations with Sam in the three months he worked at the estate, and each time she saw him a fluttered feeling in her stomach would emerge. Sam bent down to pick up her flip flop.

It seems you lost this, he held it up allow me to put it back where it belongs.

Serena stopped the swing with her other foot.

It’s all right Sam, I can do it myself. Her barefoot brushed the grass; it tickled her toes.

He stepped closer to her, I really don’t mind at all.

His genuine smile appealed to her, lifting her leg she presented her foot to Sam. He took it in his hand and slipped the flip flop on. Serena thought the moment might be awkward, but surprisingly she felt it to be natural. They looked up at one another and as if they both knew they felt the same sense of comfort, their smiles turned into flirtatious giggles.

Serena hopped off the swing. Thanks. I have to get back inside before Hannah realizes I stepped out for some fresh air. She started to walk toward the house then turned to look back. See you later.

Sam stood beside the swing eagerly waving to her.

Her thoughts returned to the decision she had to make. She had never really been on her own before, let alone in a big city such as New York. Over the years, the estate staff had become her family and she honestly felt uncertain in navigating life by herself. As she entered the side door to the kitchen, she opted to push the decision from her mind, at least for the time being. She barely made it to the sink to wash her hands when Hannah stormed up to her standing inches away with both hands on her hips.

Serena! Hannah shouted. Are you going to set the table, or do I have to light a match under your feet to get you moving?" Hannah had replaced Selma as the Hollisters’ head-of-staff eight years ago. She stood tall and slender, and though in her early forties she always arranged her hair in a tight bun as Mrs. Hollister demanded. She made sure everything ran smoothly; any slight resistance and she would fix the staff with an appalled look before launching into a lecture about their performance. Serena thought Hannah was unfair; she was too strict and couldn’t control the household the way Selma had. Her mother never commanded the staff, instead she participated and made them feel as one cohesive team while undertaking the duties required in the estate. She was fair and engaging, to Selma the feelings of the staff mattered and were always taken under consideration. When Hannah took over her mother’s old position, she relished in giving orders and she treated everyone as a means to an end in maintaining the estate. It was especially difficult for Serena as Hannah was rude and went out of her way as she attempted to strip away at Serena’s confidence in herself. It took Serena years before she recognized to survive Hannah’s animosity toward her, she would perform her duties and avoid her as much as she possibly could. However, recently her tolerance for Hannah’s judgements of her and the staff were wearing thin.

Selma had died in a tragic accident when Serena was seventeen. She had no place to go after that. Her father had never been in the picture, and she had no other biological family. When Gregory, the Hollister patriarch, asked her to stay on as one of the housekeeping staff, she accepted. She was grateful, yet part of her worried that she would be a burden. She knew the staff was protective of her since she had lost her mother and she knew Mr. Hollister pitied her prompting his reason for her staying at the estate. Serena missed her mother and at times she felt lost without her by her side; her mother had been her everything and the loss affected Serena every day.

I’m going, I’m going, Serena told Hannah.

She snatched a strawberry from the freshly washed pile.

Do you even know how many place settings you need? Hannah asked as she crossed her arms and stared intensely at Serena.

Nope, I was waiting for someone to shout it out.

Serena smiled.

Flora, Hannah’s second-in-command, chuckled. The plump, middle-aged woman had become close to Selma during her time at the estate; a sisterhood had grown between them. She adored Serena, she found her thoughtful and headstrong just like her mother had been and she cherished her like a daughter. There are four tonight, Flora said. Now go be a good girl, don’t get Hannah mad. She stole a strawberry and gave it to Serena, then mouthed go once more.

Daniel’s not back yet? Serena asked hoping he would walk in any moment.

"No, míja, not yet."

Serena opened the credenza gently and removed the lavish Romeo and Juliet chinaware before she entered the dining area. The room was large, too big for a place setting of only four. The Hollisters occasionally had guests, but they didn’t entertain much, despite being a renowned family. The chandelier looked as if it belonged in a grand ballroom; its crystals sparkled over the twelve-person dining table. Serena set the plates; Mr. Hollister would sit at the head of the table with his wife, Evelyn, and his daughter, Celeste, on either side of him. The final place-setting was for Lawrence, Celeste’s boyfriend of about a year.

Daniel would not be at dinner. Now that he was approaching thirty, he used any excuse to avoid seeing his family. He was fifteen when Serena arrived at the estate, and the two of them hit it off immediately. Daniel was compassionate and sweet. She had always known him to put the needs of others before his own, so it was no surprise that he was set on becoming a pediatrician. Mr. Hollister had discouraged Daniel; he’d wanted his son to take over the family pharmaceutical company one day, but Daniel chose to follow his own path. He knew he would not be content dispensing medications at an astronomical cost to patients, but rather his desire was to be more hands-on and provide them care.

Serena wished that she and Celeste had maintained their close relationship, especially since they were the same age, but no such luck. When Serena arrived, Celeste had been excited; she told Serena she’d always wanted a sister, and they were close for a few years. The bond between them changed in their midteens when boys started paying more attention to Serena. Celeste distanced herself and found friendships with her economic peers.

Hannah entered the dining room with a scowled look on her face.

Are you done yet? She snapped. We need your help in the kitchen. Hurry it up.

She stormed off, huffing and whispering something to herself.

Serena wasn’t intimidated by Hannah but, for Flora’s sake, she tried to obey her as best she could, or at least as long as her stubbornness permitted.

In the kitchen, Serena glanced around at the staff and smiled; she saw Ernesto tossing ingredients into a large pot for tonight’s dinner, Neela was deboning chicken as she tapped her foot to the tune playing in her Apple AirPods and Flora had finished slicing her last strawberry for tonight’s dessert. This was her family, she thought.

Ernesto, the head chef, had come to America many years ago from Rome. He had met his wife when she was traveling in Italy and returned to New York with her. After seven years of marriage, she left him for a Spanish opera singer, but he continued to work as a chef in the Upper West Side, a favorite restaurant where Evelyn dined. A few months later, she pursued Ernesto and offered him a position as her personal chef. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and spared no expense for what she desired. Ernesto was tall and slender, had a good sense of humor and recounted stories from his time cooking for pompous aristocrats in Rome and Milan. He had served indulgent bishops, cardinals, and even the Pope once in the Vatican. His stories kept everyone amused for hours on end. Serena looked to him as a father figure.

Neela, his young sous chef, was originally from Kenya. Her family had moved to a small town in Southern Italy, where she’d grown up. Ernesto and Neela got along splendidly. They both spoke Italian and shared numerous inside jokes.

"Serena, bella, how you do today?" asked Ernesto.

I’m wonderful. Are you feeling better? Serena asked.

"Si, si, thank you, bella. It was just a headache." Ernesto smiled from ear to ear.

"Neela, pollo per favore." he shouted.

English, Ernesto, remember in English, Hannah said with her arms crossed as she walked around the middle counter inspecting Neela’s deboning skills.

"Sorry, Signora. Chicken please, Neela," Ernesto replied.

He cursed under his breath in Italian as he turned back to his minestrone. Serena and Flora both chuckled, but Hannah was not impressed.

Serena reveled in the sounds and smells emanating in the air as dinner was prepared; the knife hitting the cutting board after each slice, the mouthwatering aromas coming from Ernesto’s pots. He would usually summon her over to have a sneak peek and taste of any delicious new meals he’d prepared. She was content in the moment as she smiled to herself.

Serena, if you’re done amusing yourself, go ask Sam for some fresh flowers from the greenhouse, Hannah snapped. We have a special guest tonight, and I want the perfect centerpiece.

All right, I guess. Serena looked at Flora.

As Celeste’s boyfriend, one couldn’t exactly call Lawrence a special guest.

Now, Serena! shouted Hannah.

She rolled her eyes and stepped outside. A please would have been nice, but Hannah could not utter the word. Serena didn’t see Sam anywhere as she made her way to the sizable greenhouse. She remembered the hot flush in her cheeks when he smiled at her earlier. When he arrived at the estate three months ago, Serena couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was: she could see his muscular form through his shirt when he worked, and his short, chestnut hair complemented his hazel eyes. She had to admit he’d caught her eye more than a few times.

The greenhouse consisted of four large rooms. The rose room was Serena’s favorite. She walked in, staggered, as always, by the variety of colors. It was amazing how each row blended flawlessly into the next. Serena made her way to the pink roses. Their shade reminded her of the first dress she’d helped her mother sew. It took them much longer than it would have taken Selma to make the dress herself, but her mother encouraged her as she worked on each stitch, infinitely patient. Serena loved that simple, pink dress. She smiled as she pictured where it hung in her closet still. These roses were her favorite; their delicate color and refined beauty reminded her of the time when she was happiest. She inched closer and sniffed one.

They’re lovely, aren’t they?

Serena jumped; she hadn’t realized someone else was in the room.

I know those are your favorite, Sam continued. I’ve seen you here before, admiring them. He smiled.

Oh, Sam! Serena laughed and put a hand to her chest. I didn’t know you were in here. I was actually looking for you.

Serena felt delighted to see Sam again. She recalled their encounter near the oak tree prior and how she felt comforted being near him, she thought about touching his arm but held herself back.

Well beautiful, here I am. What can I help you with? he asked.

Serena blushed a soft pink like the color of the roses.

Hannah wanted some fresh flowers for the centerpiece at dinner, please, she said.

My pleasure.

Sam smiled and walked over to the rose bushes to cut her a few red and white roses. As always, he made sure to remove the thorns from their stems so she wouldn’t prick her