Chapter 2 Take Off Your Clothes

I slowly opened my eyes, feeling like I'd just woken up from a heavy, drugged sleep. My body was sore, and my head spun a little as I looked around the room.

Wait. This isn't my room.

My brows furrowed. The sheets were soft. The lighting was dim but warm. It was... expensive. And I was lying in a bed. A real bed. Then it all came rushing back.

The shooting. The blood. That man!

"Where are those men?" I asked out loud, panicking. But no one answered. I was alone.

I sat up quickly, heart pounding. Was that real? Or did I just have the worst nightmare of my life?

But no. I remembered it too clearly. The man with the voice that was too smooth for someone so terrifying. The begging. The gunshots. The way he looked at me like I was already dead.

And then what happened?

My hand flew to my forehead. Oh my God! I passed out. I actually fainted the moment he walked toward me and asked Damian who I was.

How pathetic.

I pinched my arm hard, just to make sure. "Ow." Okay. Still alive. Still in one piece.

I had just sat up when the door creaked open. A woman stepped inside. She looked like she was in her thirties, expressionless, almost robotic.

"You're awake. Sir Lucan wants to see you."

That was it. No smile. No warmth. Just those cold, clipped words.

My stomach twisted. Was she like them too? Was she another killer? Probably. Her eyes looked empty. Dead. Like she'd seen things I couldn't even imagine.

I stood up quickly. I didn't want to give her a reason to get pissed off. What if she was like the rest of them? Trigger-happy and looking for someone to hurt?

We started walking. The silence between us made the air feel heavy.

As I followed her through the hallway, I couldn't help but look around. The place was massive. Luxurious. The kind of mansion you only see in movies or magazines. Everything looked expensive! The paintings, the chandeliers, the furniture. I'd never seen anything like it.

I must've looked like some girl dragged out of the mountains. But honestly, I didn't care. I'd been through hell the past few days. If staring at pretty furniture helped me forget what kind of people I was dealing with, I'd take it.

I didn't even realize we were in the dining room until we stopped walking.

And there he was.

The man from the garage.

The one who killed without blinking.

He was sitting at the head of the table, calm, quiet, but I felt the tension the moment I stepped into the room.

"Sit," the woman beside me said, pointing at the chair to his right.

I couldn't even look at him. I just kept my head down and sat slowly, barely breathing. I didn't want to make eye contact. I didn't want to do anything that might make him notice me more than he already had.

I sat there, unsure what was going to happen next. Why was I even here? Weren't they supposed to send me to clean bathrooms or wash blood-soaked clothes or something?

Wait. What was his name again?

She said it earlier. Sir Lucan. That's right.

A few minutes later, Damian walked in and sat on the man's left side.

I didn't understand why I was here with them. They weren't talking. No one was explaining anything. They just sat there like I was supposed to know what came next.

I swallowed hard.

Maybe this was the part where they decided if I was useful or disposable.

The two men started eating like it was just any normal day. I sat there frozen, unsure what I was supposed to do.

I glanced at the man with the voice too smooth for someone so terrifying. He didn't even look at me while he chewed, completely unbothered by my presence.

"You don't want to eat?" Damian asked, eyes on me, waiting.

"I... I do."

"Then what are you waiting for? I'm not putting food on your plate for you."

"I can do it." I moved quickly, grabbing food for myself, glancing at both men from time to time, especially the one on my left. I kept my head low though. I didn't want to accidentally meet his eyes.

After that, silence.

No one spoke. No one looked at me. It was just the three of us, eating at this ridiculously large table, like I belonged here. But I didn't. I was supposed to be a maid, right?

Why was I eating with them? Why wasn't I cleaning floors or washing blood off walls? And that room they kept me in earlier, it was huge. There's no way someone like me was supposed to sleep there. That wasn't for servants. That wasn't for girls like me.

I finished eating slowly. I didn't want to be the first to stand. I didn't know what would happen if I moved too fast. I didn't want to find out.

"Follow me," the man with the deep voice said.

I looked up at him.

He was staring right at me. Then he stood and walked away.

I didn't move. Was he talking to me?

Damian raised an eyebrow at me. "You better start walking unless..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

I stood up so fast I almost knocked over my chair, then quickly followed the man I still didn't know the name of.

He walked through the hallway without saying a word, then pushed a door open and left it like that. He didn't tell me to go in... but something told me I had to.

I paused at the entrance.

Should I shut the door? Leave it open? Maybe if I kept it open, I'd have a chance to run in case... in case he decided to kill me like he did that man earlier.

"Close the door."

I jumped.

His voice was calm but final, like there was no arguing with it. My hands were slick with sweat, but I did as he said. I closed the door, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

"Come here."

I didn't want to. Every part of me screamed to stay where I was, but I forced my feet to move.

He sat in a massive chair like it was a throne, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting on the sides like he owned everything in the world.

I kept my head down, fingers twisting together. My heart thudded so hard I thought it might rip through my chest and run for its life.

"Look at me."

No.

Please no.

That was the one thing I'd been avoiding.

But he said it, and I had no choice.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

And I froze.

Now that I saw him clearly, I couldn't look away.

He was... beautiful. In the most dangerous way. Like a god carved from marble. Cold, expressionless eyes. A sharp nose with a small cut on the bridge that made him look even more brutal. And those lips... perfect, heart-shaped, pressed into a hard line.

He looked like he was born to destroy people.

I snapped out of it and shook my head. What the hell was I thinking?

Nevaeh, stop! This man is a killer. He shot someone in front of you. You could be next.

Then his lips twitched. Just slightly. And then he spoke.

"Take off your clothes."

My heart stopped.

What?

I stared at him, wide-eyed, unsure if I'd heard him right.

Did he just-?