I stood in front of the mansion, feeling a mix of excitement and unease. The towering structure loomed in front of me, more intimidating up close. The iron gates, the grand marble steps, and the long driveway all seemed like they belonged to a world far beyond my reach. It was everything I had imagined it would be, and more. Madam Stella led me up the path, her heels clicking sharply against the stone.
"You ready?" she asked, her tone light but with an edge that reminded me how serious this job was.
I nodded, gripping my small bag tighter. "I think so."
Madam Stella didn't wait for me to catch up. She opened the grand doors, revealing a foyer so lavish I almost hesitated to step inside. Polished marble floors stretched out before me, and sparkling chandeliers hung overhead, casting a soft glow. Everything looked pristine, as if it had been frozen in time, untouched by any form of imperfection.
"Welcome to your new workplace," Madam Stella said, her voice low and matter-of-fact. "This place is nothing like the others you've worked at. Be on your toes."
She gave me a quick tour of the kitchen and the east wing, where I'd be working. Everything was as immaculate as I had imagined, and the heavy, oppressive silence made it feel like the walls were watching me.
Mrs. Hargrove, the head housekeeper, showed me to my assigned quarters, and I felt a sense of dread wash over me. It was nothing like the cozy little room I had back at my old job. This was more like a small servant's quarters, spartan and unwelcoming, though still a far cry from the shabbiness of my own home. The stark white walls and plain furniture didn't give any warmth, just emptiness.
"I'll get you started with cleaning the common areas today," Mrs. Hargrove said curtly. "Keep to your tasks. Don't talk to anyone unless it's necessary. And remember, no one goes to the third floor. Not ever."
Her words hung in the air like a warning, and I couldn't help but wonder what was on the third floor, though I knew better than to ask. Mrs. Hargrove had no patience for idle questions.
As I set to work, the vastness of the mansion began to sink in. The hallways seemed to stretch endlessly, and the silence felt heavier with each step I took. No sounds of family members, no chatter, no music. It was like the house was alive in its own way, holding its breath, waiting.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps echoing down the hall. I froze, half-expecting Mrs. Hargrove to appear again, but when I looked up, I saw him, standing in the doorway, watching me.
He was tall, with dark, intense eyes and a jawline that looked like it had been carved from stone. His presence was immediate, undeniable. His clothes were casual, dark jeans and a jacket that made him look effortlessly stylish. He had the air of someone who belonged in a place like this, though his casual stance seemed to suggest he didn't quite care for it.
For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Are you the new cleaner?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was something about it that felt dismissive, as though he was questioning my worth in this place.
I stood straighter, gathering myself. "Yes. I'm Kaitlyn."
He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised. "Kaitlyn? Not what I expected." His gaze flickered over me briefly, like he was inspecting me. "Well, enjoy your stay," he said flatly, before turning and leaving without another word.
The whole interaction felt strangely cold. I shook it off, telling myself that I had no reason to care about him. He was just someone who lived here, like everyone else in this house.
But as I went back to my work, his presence lingered in my mind. There was something about him, something that didn't sit right. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I had the feeling that our paths would cross again.
I finished up my tasks for the day and was about to head to the kitchen when Madam Stella called me over.
"Kaitlyn, the owners want to see you," she said, her tone more serious than usual. "Don't mess this up. Remember, this is a big opportunity. You're not just here to clean, you're here to impress."
I felt a jolt of nerves run through me. The owners? I hadn't even seen them yet. I followed Madam Stella down the grand hallway, my heart racing in my chest. What did they want with me?
We reached a large sitting room, and there, seated on an oversized leather chair, was a man. He was older, with silver hair and a dignified air about him. Beside him stood a woman, who gave me a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"This is Mr. Hargrove," Madam Stella introduced, "the man of the house. And this is Mrs. Hargrove, the matriarch of the family. They'll be overseeing your work here."
I nodded nervously, my palms clammy. I had no idea what they were expecting from me.
"Miss Kaitlyn," Mr. Hargrove said in a deep, commanding voice. "We trust you'll take your position here seriously. This is a high-stakes environment, and we expect only the best."
"Of course, sir," I said, my voice steady, though inside, I was trembling. I had no idea what he meant by high-stakes, but something told me that this place wasn't as simple as it appeared.
"Good," Mrs. Hargrove chimed in, her smile returning. "We have certain… expectations. Stay out of the family's way, and do your work well, and there won't be any issues."
I nodded again, though my mind was spinning. There was something about their tone, something about the way they spoke, that felt like a warning.
As we finished the brief exchange, I turned to leave, only to find him, Elias, standing in the doorway again. He was leaning casually against the frame, his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.
I stopped in my tracks, momentarily caught off guard by his presence.
"All set?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
"Just finishing up," I replied, my heart racing for reasons I couldn't explain.
Elias didn't say anything more, but his eyes followed me as I made my way out of the room. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was watching me a little too closely, that there was something more behind his indifferent exterior.
What was he really doing here? What role did he play in all of this?
The questions piled up in my mind as I walked away, and for the first time since I'd arrived at this mansion, I felt a chill creep up my spine.
Something was wrong here. And Elias? He was just the beginning.