Chapter 4:His true intentions.

RENNIE'S POV

I stood there — sweaty, breathless, looking like the poster girl for “Sweaty Homeless Housekeeper Weekly.”

And, of course, that’s when Mr. Shawn Wolfe decided to appear.His eyes scanned me — up, down, pause. I didn’t know whether to melt into the marble floor or hide behind the nearest curtain.

He didn’t say a word at first. Just walked up to me and handed me something white and soft.

A towel.

“For your face,” he said simply, his voice low.

I blinked. “Oh. Um… thanks.”

I reached for it, brushing my forehead awkwardly, avoiding his gaze — but of course, that’s when a damp strand of hair chose rebellion and fell across my cheek.

Before I could push it back, he moved — his hand halfway to my face, about to tuck it behind my ear. I reacted fast and did it myself.

Still, he was close enough that I caught the faint scent of his cologne — something sharp, expensive, masculine. Boadicea the Victorious. The real deal. Even the fake costs a fortune.

My heart pounded so hard it was embarrassing. Was he always this… attentive? Or was it just me?

Then he stepped back, smooth and composed, as if nothing had just happened.

“You should freshen up,” he said. “You’ve done more than enough today.”

I nodded quickly, grateful for an excuse to escape. On my way to the guest room, ready to wash off the sweat and the chaos of the day, I heard tiny footsteps behind me.

I turned, expecting a maid or maybe the chef.

Nope. Diane Wolfe. In fuzzy socks, a sparkly headband, and holding a huge key like she was about to unlock Narnia.

“You’re not going to sleep without seeing my favorite part of the house, right?” she grinned.

My brain screamed no, but my mouth betrayed me. “Give me thirty minutes to freshen up and I’ll be right there,” I said weakly.

*****

I stepped into the bathroom like it was a portal to another world.

The shower alone looked like a scene from a luxury hotel — rainfall head, built-in steamers, LED lights… and was that a silver hot tub?

I just stood there for a minute, whispering to myself, “I’m not in my bucket-and-bailer era anymore.”

Every soap on the counter looked like it belonged in a spa — lavender, rose milk, vanilla bean. I picked up a gold bottle and sniffed it. Heaven.

Then there was the robe. Fluffy. White. Embroidered with a bold W for Wolfe.

When I slipped it on and looked in the mirror, for the first time in forever, I didn’t look like I was surviving. I looked like I was living.

That was, until I heard Diane’s voice again shouting from the hall — “Hurry! Come see!!!”

I dashed out, heart racing, thinking she’d slipped on the freshly mopped floor. Instead, I found her spinning around the sitting room, bouncing with excitement.

“Good, you’re here! Let’s go!”

I looked down at myself — robe, towel still wrapped around my head.

“Diane, I should really change—”

“No, no, don’t go!” she whined, tugging at my hand.

And just like that, I gave in.

*******

We walked through endless hallways, my bare feet padding against polished marble, following her sparkly headband like a firefly in the dark.

“Where are we going?” I asked between breaths. “This house is a maze.”

“You’ll see!” she said, hopping down the stairs. “It’s my secret spot.”

A secret spot in a billionaire’s mansion could mean anything — a hidden cinema, a panic room, a vault. But when she stopped in front of an old, huge shed at the edge of the property, my instincts screamed nope.

“We’re here!” she chirped, tugging my arm.

“Diane, that looks… haunted.”

“Don’t be scared!” she giggled, pushing the door open.

I sighed and followed her inside — and froze.

After the dusty shelves and farm tools, there was a narrow staircase leading down.

“How can a shed have stairs?” I muttered. But she was already halfway down.

“Come on, Renzy!”

I groaned and followed, my robe brushing the walls as I descended. The air grew cooler, the light dimmer, until we reached a heavy steel door.

Diane twisted the latch with both hands and pushed it open.

My jaw dropped.

The room wasn’t old — it was futuristic. Steel shelves, locked cabinets, sleek screens, and a desk with glowing monitors and neatly stacked files.

“This is Daddy’s underground office,” she whispered proudly. “He calls it the Midnight Office. Cool, right?”

My eyes widened.

“Oh no, Diane, we shouldn’t be here. There’s a reason this place is locked — come on, let’s go.”

She pouted but finally turned toward the stairs. I waited until she was halfway up before I followed since the stairs were very narrow— but then I heard it.

Footsteps. Firm. Confident. Getting closer.

“Diane!” I hissed. “Hurry!”

She got out, shut the door, and left me in the unknown room. Just as I was about to escape, I saw a shadow.

Mr. Wolfe.

Panic surged through me. I ducked under the desk, my heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.

He walked in, glanced around, and frowned. When he saw no one, he turned to leave—

—and that’s when my knee accidentally hit the metal leg of the desk.

Clang.

He turned back sharply. His footsteps drew closer. Then he crouched — until his face appeared under the desk, eyes locking onto mine.

I froze.

His voice came out low, smooth, and dangerous.

“Well… didn’t expect to find you hiding here like a thief.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He leaned in just a little, his gaze holding mine.

“You’ve got just five seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t fire you… or kiss you.” My heart slammed against my ribs. Before I could even breathe—

The lights went out.

Then...total darkness. And I swear, I felt his breath brush my lips.