“Look. At. Me.”
My voice cut through the silence like a whip. Slowly, she lifted her head, her face pale and streaked with tears. Her eyes were glassy with terror. It was almost pathetic how fragile she looked, how easily I could have broken her with a single move.
“Apologize,” I said.
Her lips trembled as she tried to form words, but nothing came out. She lowered her head again, her hair falling forward like a shield. I couldn’t see her face, but I heard the faintest whisper.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough to quell the storm inside me.
“What was that?” I barked, taking a step closer.
Her shoulders shook, but she didn’t speak again. My patience snapped. I pulled my gun from its holster and fired at the ground near her feet. The sound was deafening, echoing through the courtyard. She screamed, recoiling in fear, her hands flying to cover her ears as she scrambled backward.
“Kneel and fucking apologize.” My voice boomed.
She collapsed onto her knees, her body shaking so hard I wondered if she would fall apart entirely. Her sobs were loud now, uncontrollable. For a moment, the sound grated against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear. “I’m sorry.”
Smoke filled my lungs as I took another drag from my cigar, dulling the edge of my anger. For a split second, I considered firing another shot, just to make sure she understood the gravity of her actions. But the sight of her crumpled on the ground, trembling and pathetic, was enough.
Dropping the cigar, I crushed it under the heel of my boot. The ember died with a faint hiss. Without another word, I turned and walked toward the main building. My men scattered, their gazes averted as I passed.
I didn’t know what infuriated me more: the fact that Leonid had nearly outmaneuvered me tonight, or that Alessia existed at all. She was a nuisance, a problem I didn’t need, but now she was mine to deal with. She had stabbed Renat, disrupted my plans, and yet there was something about her that lingered in my mind like a splinter I couldn’t remove.
Once entering my private quarters, the door shut behind me with a heavy thud. The silence was a relief. My dog, Artur, lifted his head from where he was lying by the fireplace. His dark eyes met mine, calm and steady, and I felt a sliver of peace.
Kneeling beside him, I ran my hand over his thick fur. He watched me with the kind of quiet understanding only an animalcould offer. He was the only thing in this world that didn’t demand or expect anything from me.
The anger didn’t fade, but it settled, coiling in the pit of my stomach like a snake waiting to strike. Tonight had been a disaster, but I would deal with Alessia.
Artur and I walked to my room, and I sank onto the sofa, shutting my eyes as I caressed him. If I wanted to teach Alessia manners, I had to keep her close. I had to make her my maid.
Chapter Nine
Alessia
Three days had passed, butthe fear from that night still lingered like a phantom in the corners of my mind. The sharp crack of the gunfire haunted my thoughts. And every time I closed my eyes, I saw Artur’s cold, piercing glare as he pulled the trigger. He didn’t aim at me, but the message was clear: one wrong step, and he wouldn’t hesitate.
For now, they had assigned me a new duty, which was cleaning the toilets.
I hadn’t seen Renat since the night I stabbed him. The news going around was that he was still recovering from his injuries, but no one dared to tell me more. I had been avoiding everyone else in the mansion, doing my best to slip into the background and stay out of trouble. But staying out of trouble seemed impossible in this house.
The door to the dormitory slammed open, jerking me from my thoughts. I flinched, my heart racing, as Mara stormed in. She was the beautiful maid working for Artur.
“You,” she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “You worthless, conniving bitch.”
Before I could process what was happening, she was on me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me off the bed. Pain shot through my scalp as I stumbled, barely catching myself before I hit the floor.
“Mara, what is—”
She didn’t let me finish. Her open palm cracked across my face, and my head snapped to the side. The taste of blood filled my mouth as her nails dug into my scalp.
“You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine?” she screamed, her face inches from mine.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I choked out, struggling against her grip.
