Our Gorgeous Servant is a Billionaire

The locked up Angel

LUCAS RAVENWOOD'S POV

We stand away from the long, polished mahogany table where a sumptuous meal is laid out in front of the

polished members of Sinclair family.

All the four daughters are present at the table. Vivian and Cynthia are just as attractive as every other young woman from a rich family. They haven't worn a lot of priceless jewelry or carefully styled their hair, but they are beautiful anyways.

They whisper to each other and giggle after taking nervous glances at us. My legs are already growing numb from standing motionless with glasses of the finest wine balanced on a tray in my hands.

I am surprised that we still got the energy to stay on our feet after the day's grueling work. The entire mansion has got four servants, which includes the gardener and the sixty year old female chef.

They are paid less than their arduous labour is worth and still have to follow the countless regulations that ensure the highest comfort of their masters. It puzzles me why this family cannot cut down on such expensive meals even when they are going broke. The delicacies are clearly worth the salaries of the five more servants they need to actually make this household function perfectly without overworking anyone.

Mr. Sinclair sits at the head of the long table, carefully selecting his preferred foods from the extensive assortment of lavish dishes.

Caspian sits next to him on the right while Georgina has the seat closest to him on the left. They both seem to be craving his attention like eight year old children.

Aubrey is scrolling down her phone despite the tantalizing dishes set in front of her. I imagine that she eats less to maintain her weight and keep herself looking elegant. Of all the Sinclair daughters she is the one that seems obsess over her appearance the most.

"I spoke to Madam Katniss early today," Mr. Sinclair says and everyone's attention shifts to him. "She says that her grandson will soon be arriving back in the country. And he is willing to offer his help in reviving our companies," he adds and the faces of his family light up.

"Billionaire Lucas Ravenwood wants to rescue our businesses?" Mrs. Sinclair exclaims in awe. "How much is he giving?"

"Madam Katniss didn't say. I bet she doesn't know either," Mr Sinclair answers.

"For someone so rich we can rest assured that his help will revolutionize our businesses and clear our debts. Let's just pray that he arrives back in the country before we get auctioned," Mrs. Sinclair says.

Her husband and Georgina vigorously nod their heads.

Yes, the banks will auction their properties as soon as they go bankrupt. And it may be sooner than later considering their extravagant spending.

"Wasn't billionaire Lucas Ravenwood supposed to have arrived back home last week? I am sure that's what Madam Katniss said during Dr. Roberts party," Vivian questions.

"There must be matters delaying his arrival. Even with good managers he must be a busy man. What's important is we ensure the survival of our companies to the day he will arrive," Mr. Sinclair responds encouragingly.

"We can cut on the wages of the workers. Their laziness is part of the reason our companies have been making losses after all. They only deserve half of what we give them," Georgina suggests.

"Good girl. I had no doubt that you would think of a wise solution," Mrs. Sinclair compliments her first born daughter.

As far as I am concerned the employees of Sinclair corporations may be the worst paid in the country. Cutting down their little wages would make them quit, and the businesses will crumble even sooner than they would have. But I guess this family is too proud to think that their employees can quit.

"Is billionaire Lucas Ravenwood married?" Aubrey inquires.

All her sisters appear interested in the answer as they gaze at their parents with eagerness.

"He is quite young and unmarried, dear. Some months ago Madam Katniss told me that he hasn't found the right woman yet," Mrs. Sinclair answers.

"The rich young man is up for grabs, ladies. It goes without saying that I would be delighted if he were to become my son-in-law," Mr. Sinclair says to his daughters.

Aubrey, Vivian and Georgina smiles.

"I would need to see his face first," Cynthia declares. "Is he at least half as good-looking as our new servant?" she adds and points at me.

My stomach churns as the eyes of her entire family glare at me.

"Why were you even staring at it? A filthy thing with nothing to show for the years it has lived." Mr. Sinclair rages arrogantly, refering to me as an 'it' like I am no living being like them.

"I only used it as an example of something good-looking. I could have used a flower vase but it doesn't have the shape of a human," Cynthia defends, refering to me as an 'it' as well.

"A flower vase would have been more appealing to look at than a wretched servant, dear," her mother argues in a disgusted voice.

Mr. Sinclair and his other daughters nod in agreement before go back to enjoying their meal. But Caspian keeps glaring at me.

"The servant has got a beautiful face, which is such a waste of good skin. A pet dog would have been more deserving," Caspian derides, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "It would be such a shame if any of our guests mistakes him for someone of importance. I suggest that he be obliged to wear a decent mask," he adds in a serious tone.

His parents appear to be considering his proposal as they glance at each other with contemplative expressions.

"A mask is unnecessary since the servant will always be wearing his uniform. No one will mistake him for anything else." Vivian points.

I inwardly sigh in relief when her sisters nod in agreement.

"Vivian is right. The servant will wear his uniform at all times," Mr. Sinclair declares.

"I will personally deal with him if he fails to behave like the wretched servant he is," Caspian says in a malicious tone.

None of his parents or sisters respond as they carry on with eating their dinner. The spoiled brat one last vicious glance at me before getting back to filling his gut.

I never thought my face would be a cause for trouble until now. Apparently the entire Sinclair family is a bunch of wicked, selfish idiots. None of the daughters seems to have inherited their grandfather's good heart. And their parents are even worse people.

Caspian should be a diagnosed psycho. No man should get so insanely insecure, to a point of worrying that his prostitutes might mistake a servant for someone important.

My grandmother was extremely wrong regarding their characters. It puzzles me how their vile minds have remained a secret within the family for so long. Their servants quit because it's so tough to withstand the madness.

This household cannot have raised a single virtuous being. But the contract we made and sent to this family stated that we are to serve them for a month before billionaire Lucas Ravenwood returns to the country and helps revive their collapsing businesses.

I must stay thirty days as stipulated in the contract. If I had known what the Sinclairs are really like I would have chosen lesser days.

None of the four daughters have showed any form of wisdom or compassion so far. But it's still my first day in their home. I barely know much about them to convince my grandmother that I gave them a chance.

The family eats in silence for thirty more minutes before excusing themselves to go to bed. I join Donna the chef in gathering the dirty plates and whine glasses. She carefully arranges the leftovers in one plate as if anyone will eat them.

"Caspian is a very violent guy. And it appears he doesn't like you," Donna tells in a low tone.

"I imagine since she has been a chef in this home for the last eight years she knows all their dirty laundry.

The rule number eleven on the document plastered on the walls of our servants quarters states that we shall not inquire from other servants about the private affairs of the members of this family. But I am willing to hear all the gossip Donna has got.

"None of the family members seem to like us," I say.

"Yes, we are like trash to them. But you should be more careful, Caspian's envy knows no bounds. I advice that you stay out of sight of his female guests," Donna responds.

I nod since I have no interest in Caspian's wh**es. What troubles me is that he will be my brother-in-law if I choose to marry one of his sisters.

"Take this," Donna says while handing me the plate of leftover food. "You're to take the food to a hidden room behind the wine cellar. There is a girl in there but don't bother talking to her. Just leave the food and lock the door when you step out," she adds while giving me a key as well.

"Do not forget to lock the door again. otherwise you will be in a lot of trouble with the Sinclair family," she warns.

I nod and carry the food out of the dining room and up the grand staircase. It's strange that someone is in a locked room behind the wine cellar and all we have to take to them are dirty leftovers from the family dinner.

And why on earth do I have to lock the door if there is someone inside?

I make it past all the family sleeping chambers I get to wine cellar. After a little search I find the red door hidden behind a white curtain.

I use the key to unlock the door before stepping into the dimly lit room. Unlike every other space in this large house this room has nothing exorbitant. Only the most basic items are scattered around.

But the breathtaking beauty of the girl sited on the bed makes up for all the missing decor. She has wavy black hair that falls all the way down to her lower back. Her flawless skin literally glows under the dim light. And her big blue eyes are the most mesmerizing objects of innocence I have ever seen.

I have never thought anyone can be so stunning without any make up and dressed in an oversized, knee length dress.

She stares up at me with a timid expression as I approach but doesn't utter a word.

I was told not to bother speaking to her, which is the most impolite thing one can do. I am curious to know who she is and why she was locked up in here. Is it some kind of punishment by the movers of Sinclair family?

I get closer and she reaches out a hand and takes away the piece of paper that was laying on top of the small table beside her bed.

She just cleared the space for me to set down the food, but my attention is drawn to the paper which bears a stunning drawing of two flying birds over misty mountains.

She has created such fine art with nothing but the pencil laying on the side of her tiny bedside table. There are many more impressive drawings plastered on the walls. I had assumed that they are bought from a professional artist, but it appears that the girl is that talented artist.

She must have been here for a long time to make so many.

"Hi," I smile at her as I set down the plate of leftover food on the small table. I hate that it's not freshly cooked food that I brought to her.

"H. . . Hi," the girl stutters in a shaky voice.

"My name's William Brett," I lie because I cannot tell her my real name. "You can call me Will,' I add, extending my hand for her to shake.

She appears surprised by my friendly gesture as she stares at my hand for a long moment before reaching out and shaking it.

She stares at my face once more, her wondrous eyes making my heart flatter.

"What's your name?" I ask.

She doesn't answer, instead she picks up the pencil from the table and writes on the paper on her lap.

Sarah Rain Sinclair.

I don't know why she couldn't say is verbally, but my astonishment would not have been any lesser.

How can someone so polite and innocently beautiful be a Sinclair? And

why is she confined in a hidden room like a prisoner, eating dirty leftovers instead of being out there enjoying life?

I realize I cannot ask her if she is really a Sinclair because if she is I will have broken two of the rules we were given. It would be much easier to find out who she is from Donna.

The act of inquiring about the private affairs of the Sinclair family is prohibited by the rule number eleven. But Donna isn't going to tell anyone.

"Have a goodnight, Miss Rain," I say while turning to leave. The beautiful girl smiles in warmly and it breaks my heart that I must lock the door again from the outside.

It is what I was ordering to do and I cannot do otherwise until I have found out who she really is.

I start making my way back to second floor but halt midway when I hear voices inside of Cynthia's chambers.

Eavesdropping is obviously wrong, but something in the conversation makes me feel like my actions are justified.

"That new servant is two times hotter than any male model and movie star we have met," Cynthia's voice says with a hint of excitement. "Don't you think we should find out what other cute stuff he got underneath that uniform?"

"He does have a gorgeous face and even more attractive hair. But I will not take part in f**king a servant again if that's what you have in mind," Vivian's voice states firmly.

A brief moment of silence passes before Cynthia snorts loudly. "You will let your jerk of a boyfriend dictate to you who to f**k when he himself sleeps with every woman that walks through his door?" she questions in a derisive tone.

"We both know it's not about my boyfriend. We got into enough trouble with our mother last time. Can you imagine what would happen if Georgina finds out? She would be so thrilled to tell our father," Vivian argues.

"Georgina is barely home this days. And we only got caught last time because Alan was a stupid rat that thought he would get rewarded by our mother if he told her that we had slept with him," Cathy counters.

"And how do you know that this new servant isn't a rat like Alan?" Vivian questions.

"I will find out," Cathy answers.

I quietly stride away from the door and pick up my pace. It's strange what I just heard. Two of the Sinclair daughters are interested in screwing servants, which is awful because in front of their parents they act like we are filth.

Interacting with them in a sensual manner would be a bad idea. I do not know how they would react if we interacted in an erotic way and then they discover that I am billionaire Lucas Ravenwood. Besides I am now more interested in knowing the girl locked up in an hidden room than them.

I return to the spacious kitchen and find Donna cleaning the dirty plates and wine glasses.

"Who is the girl in the locked room?" I ask.

She puts her index finger in front of her lips, signaling me to me quiet.

"I knew you would get curious. The girl's name is Sarah Rain Sinclair, the sixth daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair. She has been in that room for the last twelve years," Donna informs in a low voice.

I am speechless for a long moment as my mind struggles with taking in this shocking information. Donna continues to tell more and I am forced to overcome my shock and listen.

"Unlike her family Sarah has such a kind heart, and a wise mind as well. She would have been the best child of this family if it weren't for that terrible stutter that caused her parents to loathe her," she tells.

"They locked her up because of her stutter?" I exclaim, finding it hard to believe that any parent would do such a thing to their own daughter. She isn't disabled. And even if she were they had no right to lock her up like a prisoner.

"Mr. Sinclair would rather hide her existence than have people know that a child of his stutters like a fool," Donna answers.

"Does he even care about her at all?" I ask.

Donna shakes her head. "They used to check on her years ago. But they abandoned her completely when she turned fifteen and they realised that her speech was not improving with age. We have been feeding her with their leftovers ever since. But they would kill us if we let her out of that room."

My jaws clench with anger. Sarah seemed like such a sweet girl. Her sisters have more flaws than she does. Yet because of a simple stutter she has been confined in a single room more than half of her years like someone that had committed a terrible crime.

I can change that completely, I just need time to get her to trust me.

SARAH RAIN'S POV

I set my pencil down after putting the finishing touches on my drawing of the most beautiful man, William, the new servant I met today. He was kind when he talked to me. No one else has been kind to me.

I can hardly believe that our brief interaction earlier wasn't a dream. No one has spoken to me in years. All the other servants that bring me food, always lay the food down and leave as quickly as they can without saying a word. William looked at me with curiosity and kindness and not disgust. It was a moment where I felt truly noticed after a long time.

I glance at the drawing one last time with a smile before leaving my old desk for my bed.

I honestly don't remember the last time I felt happy. My life has always been a nightmare.

For eleven years I have been locked in here and ignored by my parents and siblings.

When I was born, my family realized I had a terrible stutter. I grew up an object of shame for the whole Sinclair family. My siblings were the luckiest people I knew. Because on top of being our parent's golden children they could also go everywhere they liked.

None of them spoke to me at all. It was embarassing to be associated with me, I know. And both them and my parents had reputations to keep.

"The success of your siblings will one day erase the disgrace you have brought upon our family," our father once said while ordering me to leave their dinner table.

I got banned from attending the family dinner. They didn't want guests discovering their family had an idiotic daughter that couldn't speak properly.

My life got even worse when rumours about me began spreading and disgracing my family's good name.

My siblings immediately wanted me kicked out of our home or given up for adoption. Luckily that didn't happen as father said that it might attract the attention of media reporters.

They decided to shun me completely from public life, but my siblings weren't satisfied until our parents locked me up like a criminal in this cold, dark room.

I have survived being looked down upon and treated worse than an animal my whole life. I have become so used to it already. Things could have turned worse, so I have been grateful that I was allowed to live and eat the little food they bring.

I was feeling dead already. But suddenly for the first time in many years I felt seen. William's gentle words, his warm smile, and his kind eyes awakened a spark within me.

Now I long to be free.