Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
But as I head back toward my room, something catches my eye. A flutter of white near the corner of the corridor.
A small square of paper.
I bend down. Pick it up.
A note.
In delicate handwriting:
You still owe me your name.
— V.
My pulse does something stupid.
Dangerous.
I crumple the note immediately.
But I don’t throw it away.
4
Lorenzo
My hands feel raw. The skin split at the knuckles, soap getting into every scrape. I’ve been here for hours.
Rinsing. Scrubbing. Stacking.
Repeating the same motion for so long that I’m not sure if I’m alive or if I’m dead, and this is hell. Maybe this is what my penance looks like. An endless cycle of dishes.
At least I’m alive.
And Mom and I have a roof over our heads.
Not that we’ve ever been homeless, but there have been times when shit got rough. Most recently because of me.
“Stop daydreaming.” Elise cuts through my thoughts, bringing me back to the here and now. “Concentrate on your job.”
I turn over my shoulder and find her leaning against the counter beside me. Elise is small and sharp. She’s the kind of woman who could charm the devil and then sell his secrets when all is said and done. She’s not one to fuck with, but also, she’s a good one to have on your side.
I flick a handful of suds at her. “Maybe I’m waiting for the dishes to talk back.”
She laughs, a quick, bright sound that doesn’t belong in this place. “I have a feeling you’re waiting on something else entirely.”
My brow rises. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’ve got that look again. The one that says you’re thinking about something you shouldn’t be.”
“Maybe I am.” A certain blonde that I shouldn’t be thinking about.
Her grin widens. “Let me guess . . . a certain girl.”
I turn my eyes back to the sink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure, you don’t. So . . . you’re not daydreaming about the princess?” Elise’s tone changes to a tease.
“Princess? Didn’t know this house had one?”
“Cute.” She scoffs. “Victoria is practically sainted. Pretty, polite, rarely speaks. Says thank you to the staff and means it. She’s the perfect accessory for her parents to tote around.”
I’m not sure why what she says irritates me so much, but it does. What Victoria does, or what people think of her, shouldn’t bother me.
She means nothing to me.
Nor I to her.
So then why have my hands formed fists under the warm suds?
I’ve hardly spoken to her, and I already feel protective.
Not a good sign.
This won’t bode well for me.
A flash of her pale skin and soft laughter plays through my mind. The way the light spills through her hair is like an angel.
Shit.
Head in the game.
No thinking about your boss’s daughter like this.
“Same age as you, I think.” Elise bumps my shoulder. “It would be quite the scandal.”
“Scandal?” I arch a brow. “You make it sound like I’m plotting something.”
“Please.” She laughs from beside me. “You have that look. The one people get before they ruin themselves.”
Before I can answer, a low voice cuts through the noise of the sink.
“Don’t encourage him, Elise.” I turn in the direction of the man’s voice. “I’m Rob, work here too.” He’s tall and broad with grease on his hands and shadows under his eyes. He looks like he’s been around a long time, or at least longer than Elise and certainly longer than me.
He wipes his hands on a rag, eyes flicking over me. “If you’re smart, kid, you’ll stay away from her.”
Elise groans. “Here we go.”
“I mean it,” Rob says, his voice calm but edged. “You’re new here. You don’t know how this place works. The family’s bad news. Especially for people like us.”
“People like us,” I echo. “You mean the help?”
He doesn’t deny it. “We clean up their messes, pretend not to see the blood, and they keep the world spinning. That’s the deal.”
Elise rolls her eyes. “You make it sound like we work for vampires.”
Rob’s gaze doesn’t flinch. “You think I’m exaggerating? These people will eat you alive. Money and privilege don’t play by the same rules.”
I lean against the counter, watching him. “Yet you’re still here.”
He gives a humorless shrug. “Some of us don’t have anywhere else to go.” His eyes linger on me, measuring. “Don’t get ideas about the girl. She’s not for you.”
That strikes a nerve. Not because I want her—hell, I barely know her—but because of how easily people decide who belongs where. I’m already marked, and I haven’t even been here that long.
Before I can say anything else, Mary, one of the housekeepers, steps into the kitchen. “Can someone help me move the linens to the west wing?” she calls out to no one in particular.
“I’ll do it,” I say way too fast, making Elise snort.
“Volunteering for laundry now? You must really be bored.” Elise is clearly enjoying my pain.