5

Lauren

"What are you doing?"

The voice is sharp, but it isn't Hunter’s. Thank God. If it were his, my knees would have given out right then and there.

I turn around fast, clutching the heavy tray against my chest. Standing behind me is a young woman. She’s wearing a impossibly short flared skirt and a silky blouse.

She steps closer, eyeing the empty plates, then points a finger at them. "Give me those."

I pass the tray over, my shoulders relaxing just a little.

"You look lost," she says, balancing the tray on one arm.

"Yeah, big time," I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. "I was trying to find the kitchen to drop these off, but I guess I took a wrong turn."

A light laugh slips out of her. "Yeah, definitely wrong turn. That door leads straight out to the second-floor balcony, not downstairs."

"Oh." I laugh nervously. "Well, this place is like a maze, and it's my first time here, so... easy mistake, right?"

She smiles, her eyes softening as she takes me in. "You know, you're really pretty. Want me to show you around the house?"

My brain instantly clicks into gear. A tour? Yes. If I know the layout of this massive prison, sneaking out later will be ten times easier.

"I would love that," I say, trying not to sound too eager.

"Awesome. Wait right here in the main living room while I drop these in the kitchen. I'll be back in a flash!" She grins and hurries down the stairs.

I walk down to the living room, taking in the absurdly tall ceilings and marble floors, waiting for her to return. True to her word, she pops back up a few minutes later, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Let's go," she says with a tilt of her head.

I fall into step beside her as we head down a long, quiet corridor.

"Looks like you're going to be staying here for a while," she says, sneaking a curious glance at me. "Which is crazy, honestly. None of Hunter's past girlfriends ever get to stay the night in this mansion." She lets out a quick chuckle. "Actually, what am I even saying? Hunter doesn't do girlfriends. Flings is a better word."

I shrug, my mouth twisting into a sour line.

"I'm not his girlfriend," I say firmly. "And I'm definitely not a fling. I don't even want to be here."

She stops, a wave of realization washing over her face. "Oh. I get it."

She doesn't ask any more questions. Guess everyone who works here knows exactly what kind of monster their boss is.

She smoothly changes the topic, pointing out art pieces and guest rooms as we walk. Eventually, we step out through a set of double glass doors into the cool night air.

"That over there is the maids' quarters," she says, pointing toward a huge, modern building connected to the side of the main house.

I stare at it, stunned. The staff quarters are bigger than my entire house. Hunter is filthy rich. Unbelievably rich. And yet, he's tearing my family apart over the money my dad owes him.

My chest tightens. Thinking about my dad and the horrible things he said to me this morning, makes a sudden, sharp ache bloom behind my ribs.

"Lauren? You listening?"

A hand taps my shoulder, snapping me out of it.

"Sorry," I mutter, looking back at Maria.

That’s her name—Maria. She told me earlier that she’s Italian-American, but she keeps that quiet around here. She swears that if Hunter knew her full background, he never would have hired her, which still blows her mind given how intense his security checks are.

"Woah," I gasp, stopping dead in my tracks.

In front of us, lit up by glowing blue lights underwater, is a massive, crystal-clear swimming pool sitting at the back of the building. The water ripples gently, looking so inviting I almost want to dive right in, clothes and all.

I've always loved swimming. Back when I was a kid, before everything went to hell, I spent every summer in the water. I used to dream about becoming a professional swimmer. But dreams don't pay the bills.

When my dad lost everything and we went broke, reality hit hard. I had to ditch the pool and take on part-time jobs just to help put food on the table.

My dream shifted. I decided I was going to be a lawyer—a damn good one. I wanted my own law firm. I wanted to be the kind of powerful, respected woman no one could mess with.

I wanted to be rich enough to buy my parents whatever they wanted, and make sure my future kids never had to count pennies or worry about where their next meal was coming from.

I've held onto that dream for six long years. But I can't do any of it if I'm trapped inside this golden cage. Final exams are right around the corner. If I miss them, I drop out. Everything I worked for goes up in smoke.

A single hot tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. I brush it away violently with the back of my hand.

We head back inside, walking up the grand staircase toward the residential wing.

"So, that door right there is Hunter's room," Maria says, pointing to a heavy set of dark doors just two doors down from where I'm staying.

"And this one is Ryan's," she adds, gesturing to the door directly across from Hunter's.

"Who's Ryan?" I ask, pulling my gaze away from Hunter's door.

"Hunter's right-hand man and best friend," she explains.

"I don't think I've seen him around."

"Probably not. He hasn't been at the mansion today. He's been crashing at his penthouse lately."

"Whatever," I mutter under my breath. He’s probably just as bad as Hunter anyway.

I stretch my arms over my head and force a loud, dramatic yawn.

"Orrahh... Man, Maria, I am wiped out. My feet are killing me," I lie, rubbing my calf. "Thanks for showing me around, though. It was really nice talking to you."

"Anytime, Lauren!" Maria smiles brightly, two cute dimples popping up on her cheeks. She's short, with the exact same hair color as mine, only hers is cut in a slick, straight bob while mine is long and wavy. "Just call me whenever you need anything. I'm happy to help."

"Thanks, but... how do I call you from the room?" I ask.

"Oh! There's a little house phone on the nightstand beside your bed. Just dial zero for the main line and ask for me. If I'm not around, one of the other maids will grab what you need. Otherwise, I'm usually in the kitchen or the staff quarters."

"You're a lifesaver. Goodnight, Maria," I say, pulling her into a quick, genuine hug.

"Night, Lauren."

I pull away, turn down the hall, and slip back into my room, shutting the heavy door until the latch clicks into place.

An hour later, I'm still sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the dark wall.

I can't sleep. My mind is racing, my chest tight with nervous energy. Damn it.

I should have just stayed downstairs with Maria for a little longer instead of coming back up here to drown in my own thoughts.

But I was terrified Hunter would walk through the front door, catch me wandering, and drag me back into that nightmare. I know myself—if he pushes me, I won't be able to keep my mouth shut, and he'll make me pay for it.

Maria said Hunter comes home late, you idiot, my brain scolds me.

I groan out loud, flopping onto my side and tossing the heavy duvet over my shoulders. I kick my legs, rolling back and forth until the mattress absorbs my frustration.

Eventually, the silence of the room wins. My eyelids grow heavy, and I drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.