Chapter 2 A PERILOUS CLOSENESS

Ava had tossed and turned all night reliving her encounter with Dylan Blackthorn. His words, his touch, the way his silver-gray eyes seemed to see right through her-it was enough to keep her awake hours after she had retired to her tiny maid's room in the basement of the mansion.

She'd met powerful men before, but not one such as he. Dylan didn't just take over a room; he owned it. His presence alone was suffocating, charismatic, and downright terrifying. And now, she'd made a mistake in front of him. A mistake that could lose her the only job she had to keep her off the streets.

Morning came too soon, and with it, a new set of duties. Today, she had been assigned to clean the master suite. The same room where Dylan Blackthorn slept. The very thought made her stomach twist into knots.

Ava hesitated in front of the door before she finally opened it. The room was enormous-black and gray dominating, sleek and modern, yet oddly impersonal. Everything was positioned with exactness, as if the man who slept here ruled even his own surroundings with an iron hand.

Bracing herself with a steadying breath, she got to work. Dusting bookshelves carefully, straightening furniture, and tending to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the expansive estate. It wasn't until she came to the massive king-sized bed that she realized how close a proximity she was to his life. The faint scent of his cologne still lingered on the silk sheets, dark and intoxicating.

She promptly pushed the idea aside. This wasn't her world. She was a maid.

She had just begun to fluff the pillows when the gentle click of the door closing behind her caused her to panic, as a shiver traveled down her spine. She spun around, her breath catching in her throat.

Dylan Blackthorn stood in the doorway, his piercing eyes on her.

"You're in my room." His voice was low, but it was deadly in tone.

Ava stepped back involuntarily, hugging the pillow that had been in her hands. "I-I was just cleaning, sir."

He took another step forward, his gaze never wavering from hers. "I don't recall granting anyone permission to enter my personal space without an invitation."

She gulped. "I was working on-"

"I don't care what you were ordered to do." His tone was clipped, yet beneath it lay something dark and unreadable. "Do you have any idea what becomes of people who cross boundaries in my house?"

Ava's heart was racing uncontrollably. "I... I didn't intend any disrespect."

Dylan looked at her without a word, his expression expressionless. And then, to her utter surprise, a smile lingered on his lips. It was not warm. It was not gentle. It was a predator's smile, having trapped its prey.

"Tell me, Ava," he spoke, his voice low and measured. "Are you afraid of me?"

Her fists clenched on the pillow. "Yes."

His smirk increased slightly. "Good."

She thought he would dismiss her then, but he moved in closer instead. Too close. She could sense the heat radiating from him, his presence wrapping itself around her like an invisible shackle. He leaned across her, deliberately touching her arm as he retrieved something from the nightstand-a cufflink, as if he'd suddenly realized it was missing.

But Ava was not fooled. He was testing her. Observing her response.

Her heart raced as she forced herself to keep her eyes lowered, her breath shallow and controlled. She didn't dare move, didn't dare flinch, even when the scent of his cologne wrapped around her, suffocatingly intoxicating.

Finally, he moved back, his presence no longer looming over her. But the weight of his attention remained.

"Finish your assignment," he ordered, his voice level but commanding. "And in the future, wait for my permission."

Ava did not dare move until she heard the door click shut behind him. Only then did she breathe shakily, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the pillow more tightly.

She had only just escaped that confrontation. And a little voice inside informed her that Dylan Blackthorn wasn't finished with her yet. Not even close.

Ava spent the rest of the day going out of her way to steer clear of Dylan Blackthorn. She limited herself to the kitchen, the lower decks, and made sure that whatever work she had, it did not involve approaching his office or personal quarters. Still, distance was not enough, for she could not shake the sensation of his eyes from her mind.

Nightfall had tiredness creep into her body, but sleep was eluding her. The mansion was colder than usual, the silence pressing down on her as she curled up on the thin mat in the little maid's room. Any creak the house produced had her tensing, still reeling from the experience with Vincent.

She had been scared. But a stupid, little part of her had also felt something else.

Curious.

She brushed the idea aside and curled up on her side, huddling the blanket around herself. She would keep her head down and work the following day, and not draw any additional attention. That was the only way of surviving here.

But fate had other plans.

***

The next day, Ava was washing the grand staircase when the atmosphere was interrupted by a harsh voice.

"You. Come with me."

She stood stock still, the wet cloth held tightly in her hands, then looked up slowly. Dylan stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in yet another of his impeccably tailored suits, his expression impassive.

Her pulse raced. "Sir?"

He did not repeat himself. He simply turned and departed, waiting for her to follow.

Ava hesitated. Disobedience was not on the agenda.

She hastily wiped her hands on the apron and ran after him, her feet light on the marble floors. He led her down the long, dark corridors of the mansion, only breaking step when he reached the end of the hall and a large wooden door.

He opened it and entered. Ava was reluctant to go in.

It was his workplace.