# Chapter 47: The Pepper Spray and the Man Who Refused to Look Away
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? I hope you’re ready for another heart-stopping, gut-wrenching chapter of *The Housemaid*, because this one is raw, painful, and absolutely unforgettable. Today, we’re climbing back into that dusty attic with Nina, watching her suffer another one of Andy’s cruel punishments, and meeting a man whose eyes see more than they should. So grab a blanket, hold your breath, and let’s walk through Chapter 47 together.
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Twenty hours. That’s how long Nina Winchester has been locked in the attic. Twenty hours of stale air, dusty floorboards, and the slow, suffocating crawl of time. Andy marched her up there right after little Cecelia went to bed—because of an air freshener. Yes, you heard that right. A few extra spritzes of lavender mist, and the man of the house decided his wife needed to be tortured. Because that’s what it is. Torture. The kind that leaves no bruises on the outside but cracks you open from within.
Nina has learned not to argue. Arguing means another stay at Clearview, the mental institution where Andy has locked her up before, where she was drugged and stripped of every ounce of dignity. Arguing means Cece might vanish for a week while Andy claims she’s “out of town.” And Nina knows he’ll do it. He won’t hurt Cece—not directly—but he’s perfectly fine using her as a leash. When Nina once dared to remind him that his own negligence nearly drowned Cecelia in that bathtub years ago, Andy just smiled that cold, dead smile and said, *“That would’ve taught you a lesson, wouldn’t it?”*
God, that man is evil.
And now Andy wants another child. Another sweet, innocent soul to hold hostage in Nina’s heart. Another little lever to pull whenever she dares to step out of line. But Nina is done. She won’t let that happen. So she drove to a clinic in the city, gave them a fake name, paid in cash, and had an IUD placed. She’s rehearsed her perplexed expression for when the pregnancy tests come back negative. She knows how to play this game now.
But this time, her crime was *air freshener*. The same amount she always sprays. And if she hadn’t sprayed it at all, Andy would have locked her in the attic with something foul, like rotting fish. There’s no winning with him. So last night, when he said the spray irritated his eyes, her punishment was clear: pepper spray. Her own face. Her own eyes. She had to crouch on the attic floor, aim the bottle at herself, and pull the trigger. Eyes open, or it “wouldn’t count.”
And she did it.
Nina doesn’t recommend pepper spray, by the way. It stings like fire. Her eyes erupted with tears, her face burned, her nose gushed, and soon the liquid dripped into her mouth—bitter, sharp, miserable. For nearly an hour, she couldn’t even open her eyes. She sat on that bed, gasping, wondering if this was the moment her body simply gave up. But it didn’t. And now, hours later, she can see again. Her face still feels sunburned, her eyes puffy, but she’s alive. Andy will probably keep her up here until she looks “more like herself.” So one more night, maybe. Hopefully not.
The window isn’t boarded up today. That’s something. It lets in a thin ribbon of sunlight, the only thing keeping Nina from total madness. She walks over, presses her palms to the glass, and gazes into the backyard, wishing she were out there, free, invisible, untouchable.
And that’s when she sees him.
Enzo.
The gardener. He’s out there, pulling weeds or trimming something, working quietly in the sunshine. Nina starts to back away, but it’s too late. Enzo looks up. He sees her. Even from the third floor, she can read his face—that dark, stormy expression of *knowing*. He yanks off his gloves, stalks out of the yard, and disappears around the side of the house.
Oh no. This is bad.
Nina doesn’t know what Enzo will do. Call the police? She’s not sure that would help. Andy has a way of flipping everything around, making her look like the crazy one. She once tried to save money, hiding bills in a boot, dreaming of escape. One day, the money vanished. The next day, she was in the attic.
Then—*thud thud thud*—a fist pounds on the attic door.
“Nina!” It’s Enzo. His voice is thick with rage. “Nina! I know you are in there!”
Nina’s heart hammers. She cowers against the wall. “I’m fine!” she calls out.
The doorknob rattles. “If you are fine, open the door and show me.”
And that’s when it hits her—Enzo’s English is *perfect*. His Italian accent is barely there. All those months, she had assumed he only understood a little. But he understood *everything*. Every word she ever said, every confession she whispered near him, thinking he wouldn’t catch it. Including the words she said about her husband torturing her and locking her in the attic.
“I... I’m busy!” she says, her voice unnaturally high. “I’m fine! Just getting some work done.”
“You told me your husband tortures you and locks you in the attic,” Enzo says flatly.
Nina sucks in a breath. Damage control. She has to do damage control or Andy will make her pay. “How did you get into the house anyway?”
Enzo doesn’t take the bait. “You leave a key under the potted plant by the front door. Now, where is the key to this room? Tell me.”
She knows where the key is—on a hook in the kitchen, just out of her reach. But if she tells him, she might as well light the match. “Enzo... please. You’re not helping. He’ll let me out later today.”
A long silence follows. Nina hopes he’s thinking about walking away. About keeping his head down. She knows nothing about his immigration status, but she’s aware that Andy’s family has enough money and power to have a man deported on a whim. Enzo would be ruined.
Then he says, “Step back. I will break down the door.”
“No!” Tears flood her eyes. “You don’t understand. If I don’t do what he says, he’ll hurt Cecelia. And he’ll have me locked up—he’s done it before.”
“No. This is just excuses.”
“They’re not excuses!” The tear rolls down her cheek. “You don’t understand the kind of money he has. He could destroy you. Do you want to get deported?”
Enzo is quiet. Then, softly, “This is wrong. He is hurting you.”
“I’m fine. I swear.”
It’s mostly true. Her face still burns, her eyes sting, but Enzo doesn’t need to know that. In another day, she’ll look normal again. Like nothing ever happened. And then she can go back to her quiet, miserable existence.
“You want me to leave,” Enzo says.
And oh—Nina doesn’t want him to leave. A part of her, a desperate, reckless part, wants him to smash that door down, to carry her out of this nightmare. But she knows how Andy will twist it. She knows what will happen to both of them. So she says, “Yes. Please go.”
Enzo lets out a long sigh. “I will go. But if I do not see you tomorrow morning, I will come up here and break the door down. And I will call the police.” His voice is steel.
“That’s fair,” Nina whispers. She’s down to her last tiny bottle of water. By morning, if Andy doesn’t let her out, she’ll be in rough shape.
She waits for his footsteps to fade. But they don’t. He’s still standing there, on the other side of the door. And then, quietly, he says, “You do not deserve to be treated this way.”
And then he walks away.
The tears come fast and hot as Nina listens to the sound of his boots retreating down the hall.
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Later that night, Andy finally releases her. Nina drags herself to the bathroom mirror and gasps. Her eyes are swollen and red, her face is bright as if scalded. But by morning, she looks almost normal—just a little pink, like she got too much sun.
And that morning, Enzo is working in the front yard.
Andy is in the driveway, buckling Cecelia into the backseat, taking her to school. He’s usually so kind for a few days after an attic punishment. Kind enough to bring flowers, maybe jewelry. As if that could ever erase the scars.
Nina watches from the window as Andy’s car disappears down the road. When she looks again, Enzo is staring at her. He’s not supposed to be here two days in a row. This isn’t about the flower beds. This is about *her*.
She steps outside. Enzo stands there, clippers in hand. Sharp clippers. Sharp enough to carve through Andy’s chest, if Enzo ever chose to use them. But she doesn’t want that. She wants out.
“See?” Nina forces a smile. “I told you I’m fine.”
Enzo doesn’t smile back.
“Really,” she insists.
His dark eyes bore into her. “Tell me the truth.”
“You don’t want to hear the truth.”
“Tell me.”
And so, standing on the front lawn under the beautiful, indifferent sun, Nina tells Enzo everything. The attic. The punishments. The pepper spray. The times she was dragged to Clearview, drugged, called delusional, locked away for telling the truth. She tells him about finding Cecelia unconscious in the bathtub years ago, her little face frozen beneath the water. She tells him about Andy’s money, Andy’s power, Andy’s endless, cruel control.
Enzo’s face grows darker and darker with every word. Before she even finishes, he explodes into a string of Italian—she doesn’t understand the words, but she knows curses when she hears them. His knuckles go white around the clippers. “I kill him,” he hisses. “Tonight, I will kill him.”
Nina’s blood runs cold. It felt so good to confess, so good to be *believed*, but now she sees the monster she’s unleashed. She doesn’t want Andy dead—well, of course she does, but not like this. Not with Enzo going to prison, not with a letter to the police that will ruin her and Cece. She wants him dead, but not enough to spend her life behind bars.
“You can’t do it,” she says, her voice shaking. “You’ll go to jail. We’ll both go to jail. Is that what you want?”
Enzo mutters more Italian under his breath. Then he looks at her, fierce and determined. “Fine. Then you leave him.”
“I can’t.”
“You *can*. I will help you.”
“What can you do?” Nina asks, and it’s not entirely rhetorical. Maybe Enzo has connections. Maybe he has a plan. “Can you get me a plane ticket? A new passport? A new identity?”
“No, but...” He rubs his chin. “I will find a way. I know some people. I will help.”
And oh, how Nina wants to believe him. She wants to believe that freedom is possible. But she’s been burned before—by police, by doctors, by her own best friend. Every time she spoke the truth, she was called crazy. Locked away. Repressed.
But Enzo looks at her with those dark, unflinching eyes, and for the first time in five years, she thinks—maybe… just maybe… she isn’t alone anymore.
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## Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating
This chapter is a punch to the gut. Watching Nina endure such a cruel, humiliating punishment just for using air freshener is absolutely infuriating, and yet her resilience shines through every painful moment. The way she has to swallow her own dignity, pepper-spray her own face, and then beg her one potential savior to leave—that broke my heart. Enzo’s sudden, fierce protectiveness is both terrifying and beautiful. You can *feel* the hope creeping back into Nina’s chest, even as she’s terrified of what it might cost. Freida McFadden knows exactly how to build tension, and this chapter is a masterclass in suppressed rage and fragile hope.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
I think Enzo is going to start putting his plan into motion—maybe calling in favors, maybe finding friends who can help Nina get new documents and vanish. But Andy is always watching, always one step ahead. I predict Enzo will try to teach Nina how to defend herself or set up a safe escape route, but Andy will somehow catch wind of it, and Nina will be forced to make an impossible choice: let Enzo risk everything, or sacrifice herself to keep him safe. Either way, the tension is about to explode.
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