I followed her in, looking around the house—my new home—for the first time. The large circular foyer led off in several directions, one of which had to be the kitchen, considering the delicious smell coming from that direction. I could see the living room through a large archway. At the far end stood a wall of glass, and large doors led to a patio. Dim, colorful lights shone off the glass-like surface of the swimming pool, inviting even now. The rest of the interior doors stood closed. I turned my attention to the large marble staircase leading to the upper floor.

“Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, stifling a yawn. “I’m just very tired.”

She nodded. “I’ll take you to your room.”

I touched her elbow to stop her before she turned. “What’s your name?”

“Rainey.”

“Rainey. That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

I figured her to be in her early forties. It felt strange to have her wait on me. I’d always hated that, actually. I felt uncomfortable and awkward even with servants. I didn’t mind a housekeeper or cook, but a servant felt different.

I followed Rainey up the stairs and toward the double doors at the end of the hall. I assumed that was the master bedroom. My heart thudded as we approached, knowing he’d expect to have me in his bed. Of course he would. Why not? What sense would it make for him to take possession of me but not fuck me?

But before we reached the foreboding doors at the end, we turned to the right, where Rainey opened a single door.

“This one’s yours,” she said, switching on a light and gesturing for me to enter.

The room was huge and richly decorated with heavy dark curtains draped from each of the windows. Exposed brick made the space appear darker and gave it a masculine flair, but I liked it, especially the large fireplace I wouldn’t have need for just yet. Rainey pointed out the bathroom, which I barely glanced at, because my gaze had fallen on the large, four-post, king-size bed in the room with a thick duvet and overstuffed pillows at the head.

“Shall I help you unpack? We’ve already moved your other things into the closet.”

“Other things? Oh.” I’d forgotten. Salvatore had had my things packed up and brought here a few days ago. I didn’t have much, hadn’t needed much at a Catholic school, but what I had was neatly organized in the open walk-in closet Rainey stood at the entrance of. “I’m actually tired. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just have a shower and go to bed.”

“Of course.”

She closed the closet doors and moved over to turn down the bed—another thing I didn’t like. I could turn down my own bed.

“Thank you, Rainey,” I said, dismissing her.