Chapter 5 - Welcome to the Estate
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The Perry Estate looked less like a home and more like a fortress.
The iron gates groaned open the next morning as the black SUV Leandro sent for me pulled into the winding driveway. The manicured lawns stretched for acres, leading up to a massive stone mansion that practically screamed generational wealth and old blood.
I clutched my small duffel bag to my chest as the driver opened my door.
Waiting on the front steps was a stern-looking woman in a pristine grey suit.
"I am Mrs. Gable, the house manager," she said briskly, not bothering to offer her hand. "Mr. Perry informed us of your new position. You will speak only when spoken to. You will not look Mr. Arthur Perry in the eye. And you will attend to Miss Stella’s every need, no matter how unreasonable."
"Understood," I muttered.
She led me through hallways lined with Renaissance art and marble statues. The silence in the house was heavy, suffocating.
We stopped outside a massive set of double oak doors. Mrs. Gable knocked once and pushed them open without waiting for a reply.
Stella was lounging on a velvet chaise, wearing a silk robe, scrolling through her phone. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed into a vicious glare.
"What is she doing here?" Stella hissed, throwing her phone onto the cushions.
"Your brother hired her, Miss," Mrs. Gable said smoothly. "He felt that since she disrespected you so publicly, she should serve you privately. She is your new personal attendant. To do with as you please."
A slow, cruel smile spread across Stella’s face. It was the look of a predator realizing the prey was trapped in the cage.
"Is that so?" Stella purred, sitting up. She looked me up and down like I was dirt on her shoe. "Leandro is so thoughtful."
She walked over to her vanity, picked up a bottle of expensive perfume, and deliberately dropped it onto the hardwood floor. The glass shattered, filling the room with an overpowering scent of roses.
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"Clean it up," Stella commanded, her eyes flashing with triumph. "With your bare hands."
I kept my face blank, dropped to my knees, and started picking up the glass. The game had begun.
