Chapter Five - The complete opposite

The second my feet touched the ground at the Beverly Hills airport, I knew one thing for sure—Beverly Hills was for the rich and wealthy. Even the air felt different, infused with the scent of overpriced coffee and expensive thick perfume. People were gliding around with designer suitcases and clothes, casually walking while on very important calls, and here I was, staring at myself in my cheap thrift jeans and the most stylish top I had ever owned. Well, I thought it was stylish enough. At least it had been until I saw how everyone else was dressed.

I barely had a moment to take it all in before a voice broke through the noise.

“Miss Scarlett!"

A good looking man with brown hair called out at the exit. Dressed in a simple deep blue button up shirt and black trousers. He held out a big cardboard with my name written in red, like that was ominous enough he had a boyish smile with a one sided dimple that could make you blush.

“Miss Scarlett, right?”

“The one and only,”

I muttered, adjusting my bag on my shoulder as I smiled back.

He stared at me with a shocked expression before grinning like we were old friends. He was older yet brighter and a complete opposite of my last driver. Mr. Stiff as a Board—was all stone-cold silence and judgmental stares, this guy looked like he actually enjoyed life.

He let out a short laugh and extended his hand.

“Name’s Damien. I’m your ride for her on.”

I shook his hand, immediately noting how firm his grip was.

“Nice to meet you, Damien. I'm— well you already know who I am I guess. You're holding it.”

He laughed and reached out for my suitcase with zero hesitation. It was such a stark contrast from the last guy that I had to bring it up.

“It's a pleasure to meet you. Are you ready to roll?”

He tilted his head toward the exit, where a sleek black SUV was parked.

I followed him, waiting for the usual awkward silence to settle in as we walked. Damien had a bright smile but maybe he was just as professional as the last one. Except he was more polite about it.

“So, how was the flight?”

He asked, catching me off guard.

“Uh, fine, I guess. No one threw a tantrum mid-air, so that’s a win.”

“Ah, lucky you. Last week I had to pick up some VIP whose seatmate tried to start a fight over the ‘proper way to eat a croissant.’”

I let out a short laugh.

“Seriously?”

“Dead serious. Rich people take their pastries very seriously.”

We reached the SUV, and Damien popped the trunk before tossing my luggage in

“You’re... very different from the driver who dropped me off at the airport.”

Damien snorted as he loaded my suitcase in.

“Let me guess. Tall, stiff, probably looked like he wanted to murder you for breathing too loudly?”

I gawked at him. “Yes!”

“Yeah, that was Charles.”

He shut the trunk and moved to open the back door for me.

“Don’t take it personally—he’s like that with everyone. You’d have better luck getting a statue to make small talk.”

I slid into the front seat, shaking my head.

“So, what’s his deal? Is he secretly a vampire? Part robot? Just hate people?”

Damien climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, and grinned.

“All of the above. But once you get to know him, he’s... well, still kind of a pain in the ass, but a friendly pain in the ass.”

I scoffed.

“Hard to believe.”

“I know, right? I had to work with him for two years before I got him to crack a joke. Thought I was hallucinating at first.”

I stared at Damien, trying to picture Charles, Mr. No Emotion actually telling an actual joke. My brain refused to process it and it shot sockets.

“So, you’ve been working for... whoever hired me for a while?”

I asked as we pulled out of the airport.

“You could say that. Five years, actually.”

“And?”

“And what?”

I shot him a look.

“What am I walking into?”

Damien drummed his fingers on the wheel, looking thoughtful.

“Let’s just say... it’s not what you’d expect.”

I sighed.

“Well that’s not cryptic at all.”

He chuckled then glanced at me before turning back to the road.

"Let’s just say the people you’re dealing with... they're unique."

"Unique, huh? I bet that's code for ‘a total pain in the ass.'"

Damien raised an eyebrow.

“Could be. Or they’re just... colorful.”

"Colorful,"

I repeated, nodding like I was taking notes.

“So, like a rainbow of drama?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

I let out a nervous laugh.

“Great. I’ve been hired by a walking art gallery."

Damien smirked.

"Every job has its quirks."

“And mine happens to have a whole lot of chaos.”

He winked at me.

“You get used to it.”

“I doubt that. Do you have any other advice for me? Or is the rest of this journey just one big mystery?”

He paused, pretending to think.

“Don’t lose your luggage. That’s the best I’ve got.”

I snorted.

“Wow, you’re a real fountain of wisdom.”

Damien laughed out loud, the sound filling the car.

“Hey, sometimes the most obvious advice is the best. Trust me, I’ve seen people lose their luggage and their minds over it.”

I shook my head, feeling the tension ease a bit.

“Alright, alright. No luggage mishaps. I can handle that.”

“You’ll be fine,”

he said, giving me a reassuring look.

“like I had any choice.”

I muttered, slouching back in my seat.

"Am gonna be a personal Nurse for some over privileged rich person. What could possibly go wrong"

Damien chuckled lightly before tossing me a candy bar from his pocket.

"Let’s just say... you're in for one hell of a ride.”

Driving through Beverly Hills felt like a showoff. Mansions, fancy stores, and cars that probably cost more than my entire life filled the streets. The further we went, the bigger the houses got and my nerves started to kick in again. Eventually, the car slowed as we turned onto a long, gated driveway. The estate ahead of us looked like something straight out of a movie—modest compared to some of the mansions I’d seen, but still massive.

The manor was the kind of place that had probably been in the family for generations. Dark stone walls, sprawling gardens, and massive windows that probably had a killer view.

As Damien pulled up in front of the entrance, I swallowed hard. This was it. No turning back now.

The second I stepped out, the large oak doors swung open, and a well-dressed woman with sharp features and an unreadable expression stepped forward.

“This is where I leave you,”

Damien said, leaning against the car with a smirk.

“Good luck in there.”

I barely had time to glare at him before the woman motioned for me to follow her inside.

I walked through the entrance, and my jaws dropped. The interior was stunning. Dark wood paneling, a grand chandelier that probably cost more than my apartment’s rent for an entire year, and an elegant staircase leading to the second floor. The place was luxurious, but In a quiet wealthy way that didn’t need to show off.

I turned, taking in the tall, arched windows that let in streams of golden sunlight, the high ceilings making the space feel even bigger. I never thought I'd be in a place like this, let alone as an employee to whoever hired me.

"Sissy!"

A nickname I knew far too well rang out from the staircase, all sweet and warm with just a hint of excitement.

That voice. That name.

Only one person had ever called me that.

Slowly, I turned, facing the stairway as every hair on my body stood on end. Standing at the top of the stairs was a woman with long, straight blonde hair and emerald green eyes with excitement glittering in her eye.

My blood ran cold. My heart was pounding like it wanted to escape. Deep down I prayed, I prayed hard that my clients weren't going to be my own twin sister.