Housekeeper In A Dungeon Novels & Stories

' He questioned. I said quickly, 'Yeah, my is my housekeeper's outfit.' Inquiringly, 'You work in the housekeeping department?' he asked. With a sinking feeling that he was judging me, I nodded my head. But rather than doing that, he propped his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers together in front of his face. Curious, he turned to me and inquired, 'Is it a tough job?' I said,' No, not always.' Then, he burst out laughing and said that this was the reason you were in my room the previous night. You had the access card, and you pleaded with me not to notify the front desk.

"Yes, do you want to join me?" He shook his head and took another slow sip. "Not tonight, son." I walked out without another word, leaving him alone to his thoughts. I was eager to begin the work I enjoyed. Let's see which wolves would break first. Making my way down two flights of stairs, I unlocked the heavy silver-reinforced door and pushed it aside. Our dungeon wasn't really a dungeon, per se, just a cement, steel-clad underground bunker with several, fun and unique torture devices.

In the study, the man in the white coat took an instrument from the box he had brought and began measuring David's father's blood pressure. Silent in his wheelchair, David's father appeared somewhat solitary. Rowan waved off the housekeeper, saying, "It's alright, you should go in and attend to him. I know the way out." Concerned primarily about David's father's well-being, the housekeeper didn't hesitate and promptly returned to the study without offering any objections. Rowan descended the stairs and exited the mansion, following her memory. When she reached the corner of the second floor, a hand suddenly darted out from the side, gripping her arm tightly and pulling her toward the wall.

A quiet unease crept into my chest. I couldn't wait for her as I prepared my bath and did the best I could to look presentable. After I got dressed I made my way through the hallways. After a few minutes of searching and asking the staff I finally found her bent over in the dungeon, scrubbing the stone floors with a tiny sponge. My heart sank at the sight of her, her face pale and streaked with dirt. “Azel!” I called out, stepping into the dungeon. “What are you doing?”

“It's quite deep. He'll need to come back daily for the next few days to get it cleaned up and re-dressed to prevent infections or tetanus.’’ Alfred answered, wrapping up the injury. I sighed. Swatting my gaze to Alessia, she sat motionless, staring as Alfred rounded up. She must have been shocked. I left the ward. I didn't go to my room, I couldn't. I went down the basement to get a few shots of liquor. “My king.’’ I bumped into the guard from earlier returning from the dungeon. My heart stung briefly, Astrea flashing in my mind. “There's a maid in the dungeon, she's been there since yesterday any trials yet.’’ He reported. I remembered it. The dumb maid that was assigned to Alessia and cou

I said with a sultry voice, stepping closer to him, and I noticed his eyes glance at my exposed cleavage. “Since you will be working here, I have a few rules you must follow,” he stated. “Rules? What are those?” I asked, pouting softly. “Rule 1: you keep the relationship between us a secret.” He says. “Relationship between us?” I asked mischievously. “I mean, you are my housekeeper.” He clarified. “I understand.” I replied, with a wink, and the man looked irritated with my actions. He listed so many rules, and I agreed to all of them until he mentioned the disturbing part.

I quickly took off the jeans and black top that I had on and slipped into the scrubs I’d been given. “Quick. We’re meeting the rest in the kitchen.” “The rest of who?” I asked as I started slipping my shoes back on. Hannah was already going back up the stairs. “Keep up, Grey. I don’t want to have to hold your hand.” ___ The head housekeeper was the same tight-lipped woman I’d met at the party. She looked like a war general disguised as head housekeeper. Her hair was in a tight bun and her spine was straight as a rod. Her uniform was crisp, sleeves rolled to the elbow, clipboard in hand.

I drag my luggage inside, trying not to gawk like a peasant—but my jaw nearly hits the floor. Is this someone’s house or heaven? I feel completely out of place. Bright white light fills the massive living room, dining area, and kitchen. Everything is sleek, expensive, immaculate. I’ve heard he’s a germophobe—apparently, that’s not an exaggeration. No one is in sight. The man at the door doesn’t come in with me, so I stay put, drinking in the view. The staircase is massive, the kitchen breathtaking. A woman appears through a side door, dressed neatly in what I guess is a housekeeper’s uniform.

Damian was acting weird, so unlike him and for some reason, I liked it, but the idea of him bathing me yet made me a little uncomfortable. The door suddenly opened and the housekeeper walked in with a tray. “Good morning, ma'am,” she greeted gently with a smile and I frowned. She had never been this jovial with me. “The boss said you should eat,” she said and dropped the tray beside me. “Where is he?” “Downstairs,” she replied simply and turned to go. “What's your name?” I suddenly asked and she turned to me with a little surprise. “It's against the rule?” I asked and she shook her head with a smile.

He slowly climbed the steps to my door. It took me a while to realize what a giant he was. My head reached his shoulders with wedge HEELS on and it didn’t help the fact that he was so big and intimidating with the tattoos and the stud piercing in his ear, not to mention the silver barbel in his tongue and his eyebrow. It made him look tough. “Ruth Gavin.” He said. “She’s my housekeeper. What’s she got to do with you?” “She’s in the hospital, right? I came to tell you that I’ll be working part-time here temporarily until she gets better.”