AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
London
Okay, deep breath.
I stare in awe at the majestic mansion, nestled amidst lush gardens and tall ageless trees. The classic structure, with its large floor-to-ceiling windows and gleaming lights, seems like it was lifted off the pages of an ultra-modern architectural magazine. Still, there's a certain charm about it, a perfect blend of contemporary luxury and timeless elegance that immediately captivates me. This magical mansion, tucked in the middle of nowhere, is a far cry from the cramped two-bedroom bungalow that I'm coming from – an indication of a new beginning…
My insides jump feverishly at the thought. The emotions that I've been trying to repress all day rush to the surface: fear, anxiety, and doubt.
Can I really do this?
The question echoes loudly in my head, and I can feel the walls of my heart starting to close up. Panic rises in my throat, beads of sweat forming on my temples.
I can't have a panic attack! Not here. Not now!
I close my eyes, trying to remember Amelia’s words to me on the phone when I'd called her in the middle of a panic attack, right before she sent me down here.
“You need to seize the reins of your life now, London…”
Her tone had been firm, yet gentle. The words ring in my head now, replacing the voices of doubt and fear that are starting to clog my soul. Amelia Farrell is my best friend – my only friend from childhood. She's always been my rock, a solid presence in the stormiest moments. Even though she isn't here, I can feel her unwavering support and love. I take in a deep breath, letting it all out a shaky whoosh as my thudding heart starts to regulate.
It's not change that's scary; it's the life I'm coming from. Whatever my life is going to look like going forward, it can't be much worse than what it was.Right?
The breeze suddenly picks and the cold air pricks at my skin, causing me to shiver. It's not quite winter yet, but the subtle chill in the air hints at the impending arrival of colder days. I glance at my watch and let out a short gasp. I have no time to admire the architecture; I’m late.
Clutching my bag tighter, I walk to the front door in hastened steps, ignoring the irregularity of my heartbeat.
“I can do this,” I murmur to myself before ringing the doorbell.
The door is pulled open almost immediately. I start to mutter a customary greeting, but the words instantly freeze in my throat as my eyes fall on the grey-eyed Adonis standing in front of me. In that instant, I forgot how to breathe. Or think.
Of course, I immediately recognize Curt Farrell, but it’s still so hard reconciling the man in front of me with the image of the college boy that occupied my girlish dreams.
He's older. Sexier… and so much more than I can fathom at the moment.
“And you are?” he asks, his voice crisp and detached – nothing like the warm baritone that I imagined in my head. My heart tightens at the blankness in his piercing gray eyes.
Of course he doesn't recognize me.
“My name is London Monroe,” I reply, inching forward. “I'm the newly hired help.”
He glances at his watch, his eyes narrowing impatiently as he returns his gaze to me. “You should have been here half an hour ago, Miss Monroe.”
“I'm sorry. I got held up on the highway. There was an accident.”
“Do you know what I hate more than tardiness?” he asks, his eyes boring intensely into mine in a way that makes it hard for me to breathe.
“Excuses, Miss Monroe,” he continues in that even tone that contradicts the irritation in his eyes. “I dislike people that make excuses.”
I open my mouth and close it again for lack of words. Though I wasn't very close to him in the past, I don't remember him being so rude. So… dismissive.
“I'm sorry,” I repeat, biting down hard on my lower lip to hold back the hot tears pushing behind my lids.
His only response to my apology is a dismissive nod as he steps aside to usher me in. “Please, come inside.”
The interior of the house is surprisingly modest in an almost cozy way. Warm hues adorn the walls, and sunlight filters through delicate curtains, casting a soft glow that defies the superficial grandeur hinted at by the exterior.
“Can I have your ID?”
