The Enforcer's Sister

Restless and unable to escape the tantalizing dreams of a tall, dark, brooding hunk who embodied Archer, I found solace in the temporary respite they provided from the previous day's ordeals. The blaring sound of the alarm shattered the lingering echoes of those dreams, jolting me awake. It was a relief in its own way, freeing me from the intense yearning they had awakened within me. But the reality of Archer's kiss still lingered, refusing to be dismissed. The memory of his fiery touch ignited tremors in my heart, while his sudden retreat filled me with a sense of embarrassment. "He was the one who kissed me!" I muttered to myself, frustration and defiance mingling in my voice. "There's nothing to be ashamed of!" I repeated, a glimmer of determination shining through. I let out a deflated sigh, my hands gently rubbing away the remnants of slumber from my face. "I shouldn't have hugged him! What possessed me to do that?" The image of him turning his back and striding away, leaving me in a state of panic, flashed in my mind. "Yeah, it was pure insanity. But he kissed me. I have nothing to be embarrassed about," I affirmed, seeking reassurance in my own words. The kiss, though brief, had been intense, and if he had prolonged it even slightly, I knew I would have surrendered to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins. "Dwelling on this won't help!" I scolded myself, summoning a newfound determination. With that resolve, I pushed myself off the bed, ready to face the challenges that awaited me. After taking a refreshing shower, I unpacked my meager selection of clothes and sat down on the edge of the bed, surveying them. None of them seemed suitable for an interview in the opulent home of the Donovans. "Oh, crab!" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I only had fifty dollars left in my account after my previous purchases, so last-minute shopping for the perfect dress was out of the question. With a heavy sigh, I turned my attention to the simple dress I had brought along. It wasn't glamorous, but it would have to do. I didn't want to look like an actual maid, but beggars couldn't be choosers. I had never been bothered by such things before, but then again, Archer Donovan hadn't kissed me and offered his home as a sanctuary either. As I wore the dress and let my hair down, I noticed the handprint still visible on my neck. I didn't have a fancy scarf to hide it, and for some reason, I became emotional at my reflection in the mirror. I looked as tired and battered as I felt. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I quickly turned away, packing the remaining clothes back into my backpack. I went to sit at the foot of the bed, waiting for Chad to come and pick me up. Around 7:30 a.m., a gentle knock sounded at the door, and I hastily wiped away my tears, rushing to open it. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Mark standing on the other side. "Mark!" I cried out and lunged at him. "Hey, what's wrong, little bird?" he cooed, wrapping me up in a tight hug. "I don't have anything to wear," I said in a shaky voice, sounding like a child but I didn’t care. This was Mark, my big brother. I was feeling vulnerable and couldn’t tell why. He chuckled. "Since when do you care about what you wear, my little tweety?" He teased me, and I couldn't help but giggle at the nickname he had used since I was little. "I'm not little anymore, Mark, stop!" I protested. He laughed and pressed a kiss on my forehead. "But you're crying over a dress? That's unlike you... Okay, come see what I got you," he said, ushering me back inside and closing the door with his booted foot. In my emotional state, I hadn't noticed he was wheeling a rather fancy travel bag. I stood back and watched as he lifted it up and placed it on the chest at the foot of the bed, then opened it to reveal neatly piled clothes and shoes. "Where did you get all these?" I asked, amazed. "I stole them," he replied, earning a playful shove from me. "This is too much, Mark," I said, sobering up. "Nothing is too much for my little bird. Now quit asking questions and pick something for the interview," he said, making my emotions well up once again. I rushed to his front and hugged him. He chuckled and pressed a kiss on my forehead as he cupped my face. "You're the best brother ever," I said in almost a whisper. He smiled and playfully tapped my nose. "Go on," he urged. "And when you are done, come join me and Chad downstairs for breakfast. He'll get you there before 9, don't worry." "What about you? Will you be coming?" I inquired. "Um, about that... the whole point of you going to the Donovans is for you to lay low. I think it's best if they don't know you're my sister..." "I... I don't understand," I said, furrowing my brow in confusion. "Trust me, being incognito is what we're aiming for. Just follow Archer's directives, and it should be over in a few days." I nodded. "But will you visit at all?" "Of course, little bird. Even if you don't see me, I'll always be there watching over you. I promise," he said reassuringly. A few minutes later, Mark made sure I had a satisfying breakfast before Chad drove me to an estate that stretched with sprawling wooded land. The magnificent mansion perched atop an elevated ground, about half a kilometer from the imposing gate. Guards were stationed throughout the grounds, their presence a constant reminder of the high security surrounding the estate. "Good luck, Miss Adele," Chad said as he pulled the door open for me to step out of the car. As I stood before the grand entrance of the Donovan mansion, my heart pounded with a mix of nervousness and excitement. The imposing mansion loomed before me, exuding elegance and opulence through its architecture. Tall pillars flanked the entrance, and intricate carvings adorned the facade, hinting at the rich history contained within its walls. The mansion itself stood as a testament to the Donovan family's wealth and influence, a world unto itself. As if sensing my unease, Chad spoke up, his voice filled with reassurance. "The boss is inside," he said gently, his words aimed at calming my nerves. I mustered a grateful smile in response to his considerate gesture. "Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible. Chad nodded politely, acknowledging my gratitude. Swallowing my nerves, I approached the entrance, climbing the flight of stairs. A tall, masculine man dressed in all-black combat gear nodded at me and pulled the massive door open. "Thank you," I muttered and cleared my throat. "There's someone waiting to take you to meet the boss inside," he informed me. I nodded, and the front door swung open, revealing a maid dressed in a crisp uniform. Vivian, as she introduced herself, greeted me with a warm smile and welcomed me inside. With my head held high, I followed her, stepping into the mansion's foyer. The interior was a breathtaking display of luxury. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow upon the marble floors below. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of grandeur and beauty. The air carried a faint scent of fresh flowers, further adding to the aura of elegance that permeated the mansion. I anticipated being led to Archer Donovan's home office, where I presumed the supposed interview would take place. However, as Vivian and I traversed through a pristine corridor, she guided me to a halt halfway down the hall. I glanced at the double doors at the end, curiosity piqued. Sensing my confusion, Vivian smiled politely and gestured for me to continue on my own. "Thank you," I murmured appreciatively, my voice laced with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. I walked the remaining distance, my steps echoing softly on the polished floors. As I approached the double doors, my hand poised to knock, and faint voices reached my ears. Curiosity overtook me, and I hesitated when I noticed that the door was ajar. Peering inside, careful not to intrude but unable to resist a glimpse into the room beyond, a frown furrows my eyebrows as I took in the scene before me. "No, Jessica, no," Archer's deep voice carried from a lounging chair to the right of the room. He sat leaning over a breakfast spread, while a lady with her back to me crawled towards him, attempting to fit herself in between his legs. Her hands were on his muscled thighs. "Come on, don't make me beg. You're acting strange, Arch," a soft sultry voice emitted from the figure. "My nurse is here. Vivian is already bringing her up... You need to leave," Archer said firmly. "Archie, you don't need a nurse. I can take care of you," she whined. "And I already said no, Jessica. Do you mind?" Archer snapped, and the clattering of a spoon resounded in the room. He made to get up, and just then, I quickly knocked on the door. "Damn it to hell!" Archer cursed loudly. "I will send her away!" "You will do no such thing!" Archer yelled. Then, the door was yanked open, revealing a tall, immaculate blonde. Her beautiful grey eyes threw daggers at me. If looks could kill, I was certain I would be dead. "You don't look like a nurse," she gave me a suspicious glare. "What are your qualifications?" she demanded in a cold, chilling tone. "Don't answer that, leave, Jess! Now!" Archer growled as he came to tower over the two of us. He wore a loose robe over equally loose pants, and I could see his torso was wrapped in bandages. "I'm going to stay for the interview. After all, if you're going to hire a live-in nurse, I might as well be certain she can handle the heat. It's what Dad would want," she replied. A sudden realization dawned on me, illuminating the confusing puzzle of the situation. 'Aha! This woman must be Archer's sister,' I thought, connecting the dots. Initially, I had mistaken her for another one of Archer's romantic interests due to their intense exchange. But now, observing her and Archer's reaction, it became clear that they shared a sibling bond. The peculiar scene I had witnessed earlier began to make sense. Although I couldn't fathom being so uninhibited with Mark even though he had practically raised me, I acknowledged that every family had its own dynamics, and some siblings could indeed be that open and playful with each other. "Good morning, Mr. Donovan, and...," I started, trying to regain composure. "Jessica Donovan," the lady supplied, her demeanor icy. "Good morning, Miss Rutherford. Please come in," Archer's voice maintained a professional and distant tone. Jessica, however, stubbornly refused to budge from the entrance, forcing Archer to intervene and pull her away so that I could squeeze through. "Please take a seat and join me for breakfast," Archer extended an invitation, his gesture seemingly unaffected by the chaotic presence of his sister. "Thanks," I replied, attempting to disregard Jessica's watchful gaze as she remained by the door, arms folded in a hawk-like vigilance. In the midst of this scene, my attention was momentarily diverted to a maid who entered the room, delicately carrying a tray. Suddenly, a loud crash reverberated through the air, followed by a piercing cry of pain. "Son of a..." Archer's voice trailed off into a curse, and I jolted upright from my seat, aghast at the sight of blood splattered against the door. "Help her, that's part of your interview," Jessica commanded, her words chilling as I gasped in horror, witnessing the aftermath of her assault on the unfortunate maid, who now knelt on the floor in excruciating agony.