CHAPTER 4

Emma

Emma was becoming incredibly agitated by the sheer number of bedrooms she had to clean. Her back was already throbbing with dull pain, and she had only finished two rooms so far. Martha hadn't explicitly told her how many rooms she needed to clean, so when Emma eventually questioned her, the head maid simply instructed her to clean Mr. and Mrs. King's master suite, Miss Sofia's room, and Master Alexander's room. That meant she still had four massive rooms left to tackle.

As she worked, her thoughts naturally drifted to Alexander, her master. Everyone in the home simply referred to him as Alexander. No one seemed to know what his true full name was. That's odd.

But that is none of my concern, she reasoned, forcing herself to return to her job.

She made her way down the long hall to Sofia's room. When she got there, she twisted the doorknob only to discover it was locked.

Maybe she is in there.

Emma softly knocked on the door. She had to knock twice since there was no response at first. She flinched backward when the door was violently yanked open after her fourth knock.

"WHAT?" Sofia snapped, glaring at her.

"I-I came h-here to cl-clean," Emma stuttered, immediately looking down at her shoes.

"Not now. Go away and clean Alexander's room first," Sofia commanded. She was about to slam the door but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. "And don't you dare touch any of his personal things. He will kill you. Understand?"

Sofia continued to glare at her until Emma gave a terrified, brief nod of her head. Satisfied, the heiress slammed the door right in Emma's face.

Emma exhaled a shaky breath of relief, though her heart was still pounding. She shook her head and headed over toward Alexander's bedroom. She desperately hoped he hadn't returned from work yet. He had left early that morning, and it was already the afternoon. As she walked down the hall, she tried to calm her nerves by admiring the sheer grandeur of the home and the expensive paintings lining the walls.

She eventually came to a halt in front of a massive door and simply gazed at it. It was made of solid, black wood.

A black door? All the other bedroom doors are brown or hazelnut. Why is this one black?

The dark door seemed to radiate a weird, heavy aura that she couldn't quite place. It was terrifying. She turned the knob carefully and pushed the door open. Thankfully, it wasn't locked.

Her eyes widened in pure shock at what she saw inside. It was a beautiful room—easily the most beautiful room in the entire home. In fact, the bedroom was so massive it looked like a luxury apartment! There was a large, wave-shaped modern bed and floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed a stunning view of the estate's sprawling grounds. She stood in the doorway, completely gaping at the magnificent scene.

The space was invigorating. She honestly didn't even know where to begin cleaning, but she eventually decided to start with the closet. She grabbed her mop and headed inside. The closet was as large as a normal bedroom and constructed almost entirely of sleek glass.

Once she finished mopping the massive floor, her backache severely aggravated. It felt like she desperately needed to apply some ointment to alleviate the throbbing discomfort.

The dark floors were so impeccably polished that she couldn't see a single scratch or speck of dirt on them. Then why am I even cleaning?

Because you are a maid, and this is your job, her inner voice quickly reminded her.

She sighed heavily and continued to mop the already spotless floor. Once she was finally done, she stood up straight and instantly flinched in pain. This back pain is going to kill me.

It took her thirty minutes to clean the entire room. When she was finished, she desperately wanted to leave. She was exhausted, and her back pain was rapidly worsening. She walked gently toward the entrance, being incredibly careful not to bump into or destroy anything. Emma distinctly recalled Sofia's harsh warning. She reached for the black door, twisted the handle, and was just about to walk out when she collided hard against someone's solid chest.

Wait, someone's chest?

Emma quickly cocked her head up and saw the exact same set of icy grey eyes that had made her tremble in terror the night before. She took a massive, panicked gulp.

He seemed to be peering straight into her soul. His intense gaze pierced through her body like a drill, making her violently tremble.

"I'm sorry, Master. I didn't see you," she hurriedly apologized, desperate to get out of there.

He didn't respond. He simply stood blocking her path, never taking his piercing eyes off her. She nervously cleared her throat to get his attention, but it didn't work. After a few agonizing seconds of standing there in heavy silence, he finally decided to speak.

"What's your name?" he asked, his deep voice rumbling through the quiet room.

Emma stayed completely silent for a second. Why would he want to know my name?

"Don't keep me waiting, butterfly," he growled low in his throat.

Butterfly? Why did he call me that?

"E-Emma, Master," she answered uncertainly, terrified of angering him.

"Beautiful," he muttered softly.

Her breath completely caught in her throat. She was truly terrified of this man. He possessed a dark, suffocating aura that made him infinitely more terrifying than his sister. She shivered with sheer terror as he slowly lifted his hand. She squeezed her eyes shut, fully expecting him to strike her. Instead, he gently tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, his rough fingertips softly caressing her cheek.

Emma trembled wildly and instinctively jerked back from his touch.

Her sudden rejection appeared to instantly enrage him. He glared at her, his hands clenching into tight fists, his eyes flashing furiously. Screaming internally from terror, Emma immediately dropped her gaze to his expensive shoes.

"I-I'm s-sorry, Master," she stuttered, though she had no idea why she was apologizing. She just desperately hoped an apology would settle his sudden rage.

And it did. When she bravely peeked up into his eyes, she realized he was no longer angry, and his fists slowly unclenched. His face, however, had gone completely expressionless. He offered a dark, unreadable grin as he stepped fully into his room, shutting the heavy black door right in her face.

Emma quickly power-walked down the hallway, heading straight for the safety of the kitchen. As soon as she walked in, she spotted Martha washing dishes at the sink.

"Martha!" she called out softly.

Martha turned around and gave her a warm, small smile. "Yes, my child?" she asked.

"Uh... a-actually, I-I couldn't finish cleaning the l-library. Because I co-couldn't reach the t-top shelves," Emma confessed, frustrated with herself for stammering again.

Martha chuckled lightly and shook her head. "It's okay, dear. I will assign someone taller to do that."

Emma gave her a deeply satisfied smile. "Thank you so much, Martha," she whispered, looking down.

"It's alright, dear. Since you're free now, could you wash the rest of these dishes for me?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, of course! I'll do it," Emma said, eagerly walking toward the sink.

"Thank you, sweetie."

Emma listened as Martha's footsteps faded away from the kitchen.

I guess it won't be so bad working here. As long as I stay far away from that man...

Her subconscious spoke up, and she desperately prayed she was correct. She didn't want to deal with any more issues. At the very least, this lavish mansion was preferable to her abusive foster parents' home and the dreadful boarding hostel. Her new employers were incredibly strict, but they didn't physically abuse her. And while a few of the other maids clearly disliked her, she wasn't being severely bullied. Everyone mostly minded their own business. Still, it was painfully clear how much she yearned for Miss Garcia.

She quickly finished scrubbing the remaining pots and plates in the sink. Wiping her wet hands on a tiny towel, she turned around to leave, only to violently collide with someone standing right behind her. Unable to maintain her equilibrium, she stumbled backward and fell to the floor.

Emma cried out in sudden agony, squeezing her eyes shut before she could even identify who she had crashed into.

"Are you alright?" a male voice asked with genuine concern.

She snapped her eyes open, her gaze instantly meeting a familiar, beautiful pair of bright blue eyes. It's the library guy.

He immediately extended his large hand down toward her. "Come on, get up, beautiful."

She reluctantly grabbed his hand, and he hauled her up onto her feet in a flash. She was completely taken aback by his unexpected, effortless strength, which caused him to laugh at her shocked expression. Emma quickly bowed her head in deep shame.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were standing there," she said lowly.

"No, don't apologize. The mistake was entirely mine. I should have been watching where I was going," he said, flashing a charming, toothy grin.

"O-Okay. I should go now." She tried to walk past him to leave, but he gently grabbed her wrist from behind.

Her eyes widened in absolute shock. What is he doing?

Emma spun around and harshly snatched her hand away from his grip. I don't like any man touching me.

He seemed genuinely shocked by her strong reaction. "I'm really sorry, beautiful. I just wanted to talk to you, but you're always in such a hurry," he said, offering an apologetic chuckle.

"I-It's okay. Wh-what do you want to talk about?" she asked nervously.

"Well, for now, I just want to get to know you," he said smoothly, hopping up to sit casually on the marble kitchen counter.

"L-like what?" she whispered.

"How old are you, Emma?" he asked with a warm smile.

"I-I'm seventeen," she replied.

He grinned. "You're too young to be a maid. Why do you work here?"

"My guardian cannot bear my financial expenses anymore, that's why I have to work," she answered honestly.

"Interesting. You're really brave, Emma." He gave her a genuine smile, which she finally managed to return.

"W-What about you? How old are you?" she asked timidly.

He opened his mouth to reply, but a furious voice suddenly shouted across the kitchen, interrupting them.

"What the hell is happening here?!"

Emma froze completely as she recognized the terrifying tone. She slowly turned around to locate him. Her eyes widened with pure dread, and she immediately began to tremble. Alexander's powerful, suffocating aura filled the entire room, and his eyes were as black as the midnight sky. Emma instinctively began taking slow steps backward.

"Nothing, we were just chatting," the library guy replied easily, acting as if Alexander's terrifying presence wasn't affecting him at all. How could he act so normal around the master?

Alexander took several fast, aggressive steps toward them. "I suggest you watch your tone, Ethan, or else I'll take care of it," he growled menacingly.

So, his name is Ethan. Emma gulped hard and immediately lowered her head. She did not want to witness this fight.

"You don't have to get so angry, Alexander—"

"Shut up," Alexander snapped, brutally cutting Ethan off. "I don't want to hear anything. Just because you're my cousin doesn't mean you can go around chatting up my housemaids. And you," he snarled, pointing a long finger directly at Emma.

She wanted nothing more than to run away and hide. She had absolutely no idea they were cousins! She would never have spoken a single word to Ethan if she had known he was related to the master.

"I don't pay you to stand around gossiping," Alexander growled at her, his booming voice making her flinch violently.

"Hey, bro, don't shout at her. It's not even her mistake," Ethan interjected, stepping forward to defend Emma.

"Leave, Ethan. Go back to your own house," Alexander commanded coldly.

Ethan let out a frustrated sigh, hopped off the counter, and walked away.

Oh God, no. Now I'm entirely alone with him.

Once Ethan was gone, Alexander's furious eyes locked back onto her. His intense, burning stare once again pierced straight through her soul. He began to stalk closer to her.

Alexander came to a halt when he was near enough to touch her, but Emma immediately took a few panicked steps backward. Her terrified action seemed to enrage him even more. He lunged forward, grabbing her wrist in a tight, bruising grasp, and forcefully yanked her flush against his solid chest.

Emma's eyes were wide and brimming with terrified tears as she stared up at him. When he realized she was crying, the fury in his eyes instantly softened. They stood perfectly still, locked in a heavy gaze for several long seconds. After what felt like a lifetime, he slowly let go of her wrist, and she instantly jerked backward out of his reach.

"Get back to work," he ordered in a hard, strained tone before turning on his heel and walking quickly away.

Emma bit down hard on her bottom lip, desperately trying to hold back her tears.