Chapter 3

Back downstairs, the butler Mr. Reed handed me a wine list for the evening banquet and told me to finish the cellar inventory by midnight.

Inventory. That was it.

How hard could it be?

An hour later, staring at wall-to-wall bottles, my eyelids were staging a full rebellion.

Not my fault.

Nobody told me inventory could be this complicated!

I also had to cross-check batch numbers, case numbers, and receiving logs.

The Bennett family cellar had someone dedicated to managing it. I had never needed to count a single bottle.

I studied a label and solemnly entered into the spreadsheet: one thousand nine hundred eighty-nine bottles.

Perfect.

I was just a little thirsty from all the work.

I glanced around, then poured myself a little under half a glass from one of the opened samples awaiting inspection.

Gulp.

The moment I swallowed, footsteps in leather shoes came to a stop behind me.

Every hair on the back of my neck stood up.

A cold, oppressive presence loomed behind me.

"Lia Bennett."

A dark voice came from above me.

I flinched hard.

I turned my head stiffly.

Cassian.

The man was like a ghost! He was everywhere I turned.

I fought to keep my eyes open and looked at him.

Damn his good looks!

He wore a black shirt with one button undone at the collar, revealing a sliver of pale skin.

Those deep-set eyes narrowed, and his gaze slid down to the wine glass in my hand.

"Stealing. Is that a family tradition?"

I set the glass down immediately.

"I... I was just checking if the wine had gone bad."

Cassian said nothing.

He picked up the laptop and scanned the spreadsheet, his eyes sweeping down a few rows.

"Drinking isn't forbidden on this estate."

He tapped the spreadsheet with one knuckle, his voice cold.

"But from row three onward, you entered everything under the wrong headers. The vintages went in the quantity column, the batch numbers went in the case-number column, and you counted two transfer records twice."

I shot back stubbornly, "The column headers were badly designed..."

Cassian's eyes narrowed.

I immediately corrected myself. "I'll redo it right away."

His gaze traced a path from my face down my neck to the ends of my hair.

The faint scent of perfume hovered between us.

Cassian's breath hitched for a beat.

I instinctively tugged my skirt hem lower, terrified he would accuse me of trying to seduce him again.

A pleasant tingle ran through me at the sound of his voice. "Lia Bennett, tell me, what do high-society girls usually like?"

I was caught off guard. "Jewelry, designer gowns, handbags... things like that?"

Cassian let out an unexpected, quiet laugh.

"I don't think she'd go for those."

"What I meant was, how do you get a woman with a terrible temper to forgive you?"

I raised an eyebrow.

Internally, I seethed.

How dare he say Mistress had a terrible temper?!

"Easy. Just be obedient enough."

"Whatever she tells you to do, you do it."

"She tells you to kneel, you kneel. You don't lift your head until she gives you permission."

"That's the attitude a man should have when he's trying to apologize."

Cassian stared at me. His Adam's apple dipped.

"Noted."

"Now, get back to the inventory. I want the revised list by midnight."

"One more mistake, and tomorrow you'll be picking up a scrub brush from the utility room and scrubbing every inch of this cellar floor."

Damn him!

That damned Mafia Don!!!