Chapter 5: First dinner at the Manor

The ride home was quiet and smooth, and as soon as we pulled up, I bolted to my room. I needed a shower to wash off the stress of the day and the literal dirt of the office. The fatigue was settled deep in my bones, and for a second, the warm water made me forget where I was.

An hour later, Mrs. Higgins knocked on my door. She handed me a gorgeous, expensive-looking blue silk dress and said it was a gift from my mother for dinner. I walked downstairs feeling starving, but dinner ended up being a total blur of clinking silverware and my mother’s loud, fake-sounding laughter.

I kept my eyes glued to my plate, picking at a piece of sea bass I couldn't even taste. Every time I took a breath, the blue silk felt like it was squeezing my ribs—a constant reminder that I was wrapped up in someone else’s expectations.

"You're very quiet, Isabel," Arthur said, his voice booming kindly through the awkward tension. "William, are you already working her too hard?"

William didn't even look up from his glass. "She’s learning the pace. Sterling Global doesn't slow down for anyone."

"She’s always been a hard worker," Mom added, her eyes pleading with me to say something charming. "Back in Brooklyn, she—"

"Brooklyn is a long way from here, Sarah," William interrupted, his voice dropping an octave. He finally looked at me, his gaze dragging slowly from my neck up to my eyes. "Isn't it, Isabel?"

"A world away," I managed to say. My voice stayed steady, even though my pulse was doing backflips.

As soon as the dessert plates were cleared, I made an excuse to leave. I didn't even wait for them to be polite. I practically ran out of the room, the silk skirt hissing against my legs as I took the stairs two at a time. I had to get out of this dress. I needed to be Isabel Mayfield again, not some polished doll sitting at a billionaire's table.

I was halfway down the long, dim hallway toward my wing when a hand shot out from the shadows of a doorway.

A firm grip caught my arm, pulling me backward into the dark. I opened my mouth to scream, but a palm clamped over my lips. It smelled like cedar and expensive soap.

"Shh," William hissed into my ear.

He pressed me back against the cold stone wall, his body feeling like a solid, heavy weight against mine. The hallway was pitch black, except for a thin sliver of moonlight on the floor. He took his hand away from my mouth but didn't move an inch.

"Let go of me," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.

"You look ridiculous in that dress," he murmured, his voice a low, rough vibration near my ear. "It doesn't suit you. It’s just a costume, just like the one your mother is wearing downstairs."

"My mother loves Arthur," I snapped, trying to push against his shoulders. It was like trying to move a brick wall. "And I'm just here for the job."

"The job?" He let out a short, cold laugh. He leaned in, his nose brushing against my ear. I shivered as a jolt of electricity shot down my spine. "You’re here for the money. My mother built this estate. She spent twenty years building the Sterling name into what it is today, while your mother was probably looking for the next wedding ring to sell."

"You don't know anything about us."

"I know exactly what you are." He moved his other hand to the side of my neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the skin behind my ear. "You're a Mayfield. You're all grit and gold-digging ambition. You think you can just walk in here, sit in my mother’s chair, and inherit a life you didn't earn?"

"I'm not trying to inherit anything!"

"Then why are you still here?" He leaned down, his face just centimeters from mine, his eyes burning with a cold, focused hatred. "I'm supposed to hate you, Isabel. And I do. Every time I see you in my office or at my table, it’s a reminder of how easily my father can be played. I’m going to make sure you hate every second of this 'internship.' I’m going to make it so miserable that you and your mother pack your thrift-store suitcases and run back to whatever hole you crawled out of."

"Is that a threat?" I challenged, my breath hitching as his grip on my arm tightened.

"It’s a promise." He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous, velvet whisper. "I’m going to watch you fail. I’m going to watch you realize that no amount of blue silk can hide what you really are. You don't belong here, and I won't stop until you’re gone."

He didn't kiss me. He just stared at me in the dark, his gaze hard and unforgiving, before he suddenly stepped back into the shadows.

"Don't be late tomorrow," he said, his voice going back to that cold, professional mask. "And for God's sake, find some better shoes. You're embarrassing the firm."

He turned and walked away into the darkness of the house, leaving me trembling against the wall, the scent of him still clinging to the blue silk.