Chapter Two: Meeting the Jerk

Later that night, she put everything she'd need good for a week as per Liza's instructions. Their housekeeper has to stay inside the mansion for a week, and her day off is on the weekend, which is perfect for her. Wednesday morning, Liza picked her up from their house, and her jaw almost dropped when she saw the mansion. It was literally a mansion, with big fences and all. The only thing she can see is the roof.

This made Coreen gulp; surely they were not hiding anything, right? The wall's purpose is to keep outsiders and thieves out, right? I... will make it out alive... right? Am I overthinking this?

Coreen also noticed the way the other houses had a huge gap from this one. She felt the urge to run away, but she restrained herself and just tightened her hold on the bag.

"Good luck, Coreen! If you have a problem or if you need something, just call me at my contact number, okay?"

"Yes." She smiled at Liza, and somehow, her hesitations lessened. Liza reminds her so much of her good aunt. She doesn't look like a bad person at all.

Coreen has always been someone who's good at judging anyone by their looks.

"All right, I'll go ahead." Liza waved one last time and drove away.

She waved at the car before opening the gate, and she was greeted by the beautiful sight of the elegant mansion.

"Wow," she said in amazement while closing the automatic gate behind her. It has a passcode that Liza had memorized earlier.

The mansion is painted all white, making it look majestic and clean. In the middle is a two-way staircase like what you see in movies. But how come she felt like prey thrown into a lion's den? To be eaten, played with, or devoured?

She admired the well-cared-for garden, trees, and lawn. They must have an on-call gardener. The large, rectangular, clean pool was in the middle, and her eyes stared at the mansion again, wondering how one person could stay in a lonely mansion with so many rooms. Aren't they lonely?

Because if it's her, she'd rather stay in a small house with her loved ones.

Royce Sullivan, twenty-six years old, hates human contact. Everything she has to know about the man, including his favorite foods, hates, hobbies, blah blah, is listed on the file Liza gave her.

She took a deep breath before exhaling and entering the left door indicated for housekeepers to use. The right door is where Royce is located and where he stays the most.

She was impressed by the design of the mansion. If it looks good on the outside, it is better on the inside. It was very clean, and there was no visible dust. The figurines all look good and modern. The floor is marbled gray and looks really expensive. She glanced around with her eyes, and as she came to the right side of the mansion, she gasped in surprise, and her eyes widened. In the middle of the massive living room is a glass wall, separating her place from what she thought was Royce's space.

Isn't this a little overreacting? It's not as if someone will actually touch him intentionally, right? Or someone already did?

Her eyes searched for his boss, whom she hadn't seen face-to-face yet because Liza had failed to give her a photo of him. Coreen just shrugged and stepped into the room she was staying in while she was there. The room is located on the second floor, and the first room is on the right, as per the instructions. She immediately found it and breathed a sigh of relief that the wall was not glass, but frowned when she saw an iron wall instead. She glanced around the room, and she was satisfied by its simplicity. It's not small, but it's not that big either. There is a queen-sized bed in the middle, a side table and chairs, and a large cabinet where she can put her things. She also noticed a door that was probably in the bathroom.

She put her bag on top of the bed and started to organize it in the cabinet. Then she took a picture of her family, put it on the table, and smiled sadly. One can't really tell what will happen tomorrow. She was a secretary at a law firm, and now she's a maid.

Mom, Dad, I can handle life, no matter how difficult it is. I will fight for Rica. Just look after us, okay? I can do it because I know you're out there.

She kissed the picture frame before searching the bag again and piling up the papers. She grabbed the important ones and taped them to the dresser so she wouldn't forget them.

She looked up at the clock and saw that lunchtime was approaching, so she went out of the room. She immediately glanced at the other side of the mansion to search for any soul in sight but froze when her eyes connected to a man now standing tall in the middle, looking at her intently. Her body reacted differently to the way he was staring at her, and she couldn't help but swallow her saliva.

He looks like a model that came out of a magazine. Literally. He's only wearing a long black robe, and her throat suddenly felt dry when she came down on his beautiful body, as he was not wearing a top. His muscles were defined and in the right places, and his abs seemed hard to touch. He's also wearing tight black leather pants, shaping his thighs and legs perfectly. What caught her attention was his wearing leather gloves; why would he have to wear them when she couldn't even approach him?

And inside the house too, really? Why does he look like he has a photoshoot, or is it just her?

But despite what she heard about this man, Royce Sullivan is a sight to behold.

When she regained her senses, she scolded herself mentally. Was it obvious that she checked him out? To her defense, though, she was just studying him. She avoided his gaze and searched for the kitchen. Seeing it, she immediately looked inside the fridge. She grabbed a chicken and put it on top of the sink, then she got some potatoes and carrots. She has mastered the dislikes and likes of his food, and she will cook his favorite meal for his lunch today. She wanted to impress him with her skills. She may be a secretary, but she's also a good cook. Her mother taught her all she knew.

She started to chop the vegetables, and though she could feel his gaze on her, she ignored it for fear that it would upset him. He may just be hungry and in need of food. Maybe the past maids are that good at cooking; that's why he's upset. Coreen tried to convince herself.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Or not.

Coreen flinched a little at his tone and raised her eyes to see him leaning his forehead against the wall as he studied her. Isn't that creepy? Why can't she just cook in peace? Why does the wall have to be glass?

"C-Coreen Moretz, sir," she stuttered in answer. "Your new maid. I was hired by your Aunt Liza."

Coreen forced herself to look into his eyes and not his distracting body. Is he seducing someone or what?

"And what makes you different from them?" he snorted. "Aunt doesn't care anymore. How many times have I told her to stop sending women? You women are whiny, crybaby, and just plain stupid, honestly," he taunted with a mocking laugh, tickling her.

Coreen dropped the knife and raised her eyebrow.

"And what makes you better than me?" she taunted back. "When you can't even touch me."

She didn't want to answer it, but before she knew it, he insulted her right away. Her femininity, her personality She will not just shrug off any sexist comments about her.

To her surprise, Royce only nodded. "True. True."

"Think you're going to last?" he added, challenging her gaze, which she did not cower away from.

"Try me," she answered confidently.

And she will not back down.

Coreen moaned as she felt a gloved hand trace her bare skin, caressing her body as if she were a rare porcelain. Each finger of his hand left a unique warmth on every part of her body. Heating her up, leaving her wanting more.

The hand trailed from her feet, legs, and thighs, stopping ever so slightly to trace a small circle on her skin, teasing her and making her pant in pleasure and anticipation. It did not stop until it reached her body. As the hand reached for her chest, she arched her back and bent her knee in surprise.

Warm breath is suddenly blowing in her ear. "Coreen, your body is a sin," he whispered seductively, making her whimper with need. "I love the way you react to my touch. So damn responsive," he said huskily, and she gasped loudly when he gripped her down there.

"N-no," she found herself saying. "S-stop."

"Why? Don't you like it?"

She whimpered and shook her head. Her body screams yes, but her mind strongly votes no.

"Then, why are you dreaming about it?"