I debated knocking on the door, but what was the point? My impression of the son didn’t lead me to believe he was eagerly awaiting my arrival or that he could be bothered to answer the door. I twisted the knob and pushed on the entrance to no avail. Finally, with a huff I shoved my whole body against the door and managed to get it open wide enough to slip through.
The inside was pitch black and I blinked waiting for my eyes to adjust. More stone greeted me, this time accompanied by wood as my vision came back. I was standing in a huge hall with a surprising lack of furniture, and soaring beams crisscrossed above my head. A staircase was to my left and another hallway to my right.
My stomach chose then to rumble and decided my course of action. I doubted the kitchen was up the stairs so the hall on the right it was. My now broken suitcase made a lovely scrapping noise as I dragged it along behind me, adding to the already creepy vibe. I was starting to wonder if the place had electricity or if I was going to need to start lighting candles. There was a serious lack of windows for a castle by the sea (which had a nicer ring than beach house in my opinion.) I passed a couple of rooms that seemingly had no purpose and was exceedingly grateful Ava the Terrible wasn’t here. She would demand to play hide and seek and in a place this size it was entirely possible I’d never find her.
Which, on second thought, wasn’t the worst idea.
“Finally!” I muttered when door number six revealed a kitchen. It was not what I expected. Where everything else I’d seen was lost to the medieval period the castle had been built in, the kitchen was impressively modern. I let go of the suitcase, drawn to the wall of windows set on the back wall. This was the view I had expected when I’d entered the house, but apparently it was saved for those deemed worthy, as in those who managed the maze of rooms to actually find it.
There were low steps where the kitchen ended and I stepped down to the window. The ocean was spread out in front of me in a variety of blues and greens, and I spotted a little beach down below protected by a small spit of rocky land. The room I was standing in ran the length of the castle, and appeared to be an addition. It was almost as if they hadn’t bothered with the back wall and instead added a glassed-in porch open to the ocean.
They must not have any kids, I thought as I plopped down on a white linen couch to admire the view. I ran my hand over the white cushion, feeling unsettled. It had been so long since I had a minute to myself where I wasn’t cramming last minute for a test after having fed, bathed, or diapered one of my siblings.
It was awesome.
I laughed to myself, reveling in the freedom of just sitting here with no expectations. At least until my stomach rumbled again and I remembered why I had been looking for the kitchen. I bounced back up to find food. I could eat and stare at the view. Talk about a life of luxury.
I didn’t spot the refrigerator in the kitchen at first. It was made to blend in to the cabinets but a piece of paper was stuck to the door drawing my attention. I yanked it off to see it was a note from the mysterious son. At least I assumed it was. I shook my head at where he’d stuck the message. It was almost like he knew me and the first place I’d go searching for.
The messy scrawl was difficult to decipher and the message borderline offensive.
Housekeeper,
Stay away from the third floor. (He underlined it and everything. Does that mean I don’t have to clean it???)
I expect complete privacy and have no desire to chat with or get to know you in anyway. (Douchebag.) You are only allowed on the third floor to clean between 11PM and midnight. (Ah, I knew there had to be a catch.) After that time, you will return to your room and remain there until 6AM. (Was he joking?) Any communication between us will be limited to notes on the fridge. (Super mature.)
No signature so apparently this guy didn’t have a name or it was so horrendous no one dared use it. Or maybe he was a demon and using his name called his dark presence. By this point, I also hadn’t eliminated the possibility he was a vampire either.
I rolled my eyes and set the note aside. I was hungry and he could wait. There was roast beef and provolone in the fridge and after opening a dozen cabinets I found bread and chips. One sandwich later, I was back on the white couch and being careful not to let mustard drip on it as I gazed out at the turquoise ocean in front of me. The sun was just beginning to set and causing the ocean to glow. All in all, a magnificent view for my first day. After I finished my meal, I dragged out the note and considered my options.
The guy was clearly an ass, but one who promised to not bother me all summer. That was better than anything my family offered. The staying in my room until dawn was a little weird, but not really an issue for me. So far, the place looked clean and wouldn’t be hard to keep that way, and barring the third floor which I only had to deal with for an hour a day, this could wind up being a sweet gig.
I tapped my chin as I read back over his words and decided how to reply.
Housekeeper,
Stay away from the third floor.
I expect complete privacy and have no desire to chat with or get to know you in anyway. You are only allowed on the third floor to clean between 11PM and midnight. After that time, you will return to your room and remain there until 6AM. Any communication between us will be limited to notes on the fridge.
I grabbed a pen and underneath his note scrawled my own.
Person on the third floor,
I accept your terms.
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Hidden Betrayals (The Hidden Series Book 4) Page 22
