Mara POV
“Five years. Since he moved into the manor.” Dahlia says while setting down the dishes, her expression kind. “He’s a good employer. Fair. Generous with time off.”
“But?” I sense there’s more.
Mrs. Dahlia hesitates, choosing her words carefully. “But he’s very… particular. About how things should be done. He likes order. Control and routine.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“He’s not used to sharing his space.” She gives me a meaningful look. “Or his life, this will be an adjustment for both of you.”
The understatement of the century.
After Mrs. Dahlia returns to the kitchen, I wander the house alone. Every room is pristine. Perfectly decorated and utterly lifeless.
There are no family photos on the mantle or side tables. No personal mementos scattered on shelves, no mail left on counters,
