Chapter One

The ferry rocked against the choppy waves, the sky brooding above like it carried secrets of its own. Tiana Greene clutched the thin strap of her satchel, the salt air biting her face as the island came into view – a smear of grey stone, wild cliffs, and a mansion perched like it had grown from the rock itself. Lycan Isle.

No one had told her much about the man who owned it. Only that he paid well, and that staff didn’t stay long.

Her boots hit the dock, and she followed the driver in silence through a narrow, winding path. The island smelled of rain and pine, and the sound of the sea never left her ears. When the house appeared, it was larger than she’d imagined – sleek glass and black stone, old grandeur rebuilt into modern isolation.

She had expected staff waiting, maybe a housekeeper to greet her. But the door opened to no one. The driver left her luggage by the threshold, muttered something about catching the last boat before nightfall, and was gone.

Tiana hesitated, then stepped inside.

The hall was silent but for the soft hum of electricity. Marble floors stretched out before her, cold and perfect. A single painting hung above the stairs – a storm at sea. She turned around, absorbing the magnificence of her surroundings.

“Who are you?”

A single voice came from behind. Deep, quiet, but carrying a weight that made her turn sharply.

He stood there – Ross Lycan.

She didn’t need an introduction; she knew from the look of him. Tall, broad-shouldered, his presence filled the space even before he spoke again. His dark hair looked windblown, and the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw only made the sharpness of his features more striking.

“I—I’m Tiana Greene,” she managed. “The new maid.”

His gaze swept over her once, indecipherable, assessing. “You’re early.”

“I was told to take the morning ferry.”

He nodded, almost to himself. “Follow me.”

No greeting. No welcome. Just that.

She followed him up the stairs, her footsteps echoing. The air inside the mansion was cooler than outside, smelling faintly of cedar and old rain. Ross said nothing as he led her down a corridor lined with glass walls that looked out over the ocean. The view was breath-taking, but lonely.

He stopped before a door and opened it. “This will be your room.”

It was simple – a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a window facing the sea. The sheets and pillow were white and untouched.

“I’ll expect the house clean by evening,” he said. “Breakfast is at nine, lunch at one, dinner at seven. You’ll find supplies in the utility room. If you need anything, ask the cook.”

She turned. “Is there anyone else living here?”

He paused, hand on the doorframe. “Not for long.”

And then he was gone.

*

Tiana stood in the middle of the quiet room, letting the silence settle at first. It felt like the house itself was listening. Then she unpacked slowly, pressing wrinkles from her thrift-store blouse, setting her comb on the dresser, arranging her meagre belongings into neat order.

When she finally went downstairs, she found the kitchen. A plump older woman was stirring something over the stove.

“You must be the new girl,” the woman said with a brief glance. “Name’s Alma. You’ll get used to the quiet, or you’ll run from it. Most do.”

Tiana forced a smile. “How long have you been here?”

“Longer than most.” Alma’s eyes flicked toward the hallway. “Mr. Lycan doesn’t like noise. Doesn’t like company either. But he likes things clean. Remember that and you’ll be fine.”

Tiana worked through the day in silence. She dusted furniture, swept long corridors, and wiped fingerprints from glass walls that caught the reflection of grey waves. Every sound – the scrape of her broom, the creak of wood – felt amplified.

At dusk, the lights dimmed as a storm rolled in. The house seemed to shift with the thunder, groaning faintly under the wind. Tiana finished the last room and leaned against the banister, staring out at the black horizon.

A voice cut through the hush. “You missed a spot.”

She turned, startled. Ross stood at the end of the hallway, his white shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled back. The storm light made his grey eyes, almost silver, look colder than before.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, gripping the rag in her hand. “I’ll fix it.”

He stepped closer. “You’ve worked hard.”

She blinked, unsure if that was praise. “Thank you, sir.”

The faintest hint of something – approval, maybe – crossed his expression, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He moved past her, the scent of rain and cedar following.

“Good night, Miss Greene.”

His voice was softer now, but still distant.

*

That night, sleep didn’t come easily. The storm raged outside, lightning flashing across the ceiling. Tiana stayed awake, listening to the sound of the sea battering the cliffs.

Around midnight, a noise startled her – a soft clatter from downstairs. She slipped from bed and padded barefoot across the cold floor, opening her door just enough to peer down the corridor.

A faint light flickered in the main hall.

Curiosity tugged stronger than fear. She followed the sound, her heart thudding with each step.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw him – Ross – standing before the grand windows, a glass of whiskey in hand. The light caught the planes of his face, the exhaustion in his eyes. He looked like a man carrying something heavy, something he never spoke of.

He turned slightly, as if sensing her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, roughened by the late hour.

Tiana shook her head. “The storm’s too loud.”

He looked past her, toward the dark sea. “You’ll get used to it. Or you’ll leave.”

“You sound like Alma.”

That earned a faint smile. “She’s wiser than most.”

Silence stretched between them, filled with the rumble of thunder.

“Do you always work here alone?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He turned fully now, his gaze locking with hers. “Alone is easier.”

There was something in his tone – final, guarded. But she couldn’t help asking softly, “Easier than what?”

His eyes softened for the briefest moment, then shuttered again. “Losing people.”

Lightning split the sky outside, throwing their shadows long across the floor. For a second, neither of them moved.

Tiana’s pulse quickened, not just from fear of the storm, but from something else – the strange, magnetic pull of a man she barely knew, a man who seemed carved from solitude itself.

Ross looked at her, then set his glass down. “Go to bed, Miss Greene.”

“Yes, sir.”

She turned to leave, but his voice came again, quieter this time.

“Tiana.”

The way he said her name made her pause.

He didn’t add anything else. Just looked at her with that unreadable expression until she nodded and went back upstairs.

In her room, she leaned against the closed door, heart still racing. She didn’t know what frightened her more – the storm outside, or the one she felt beginning inside her.