Serving Mr. Serrano

Happy Birthday, Mr. Serrano

My father's love of bourbon was well-known among the staff, and Giffords always kept a bottle of the good stuff in each room, in case his employer needed a stiff drink wherever he was in the house. Since I shared my father's adoration of the amber liquor, my majordomo ensured there was always a bottle handy.

I located the Pappy Van Winkle 23 in one of the cupboards by the window, and I'm pleased to see there was a tray of glasses on hand. The lack of dust meant the staff changed them out often.

I heard the woman fidget while my back was turned, and glanced over my shoulder to find her reaching over for her purse on the floor. She removed a phone from under her dress and turned it on, her gaze darting suspiciously towards me. I poured the bourbon into two glasses, and handed her the first. I expected her hands to be shaking after her ordeal, but I'm surprised at how steady they were.

"Thank you," she said, gracing me with a small smile that didn't really reach her eyes. She took a small sip, watching me warily. I realised that she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, especially with me standing over her, staring so intensely. But I found myself unwilling to step back further than a single foot.

"How do you still have your phone on you?" I asked her, swirling the contents of my glass. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again before she'd said a word.

"I'm not going to throw you in the dungeons, if that makes you feel any better."

"Oh, good, because I was worried about that," she drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "No, I was trying to find the most polite way to tell you that your security isn't as good as you think it is. In fact, there were women taking selfies in one of your bathrooms, and a man who was pacing with a phone to his ear downstairs."

My eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't even notice because her gaze darted back to her phone as it vibrated with several notifications.

"So I wasn't supposed to be here at all, tonight. I'm filling in for a friend who wasn't feeling well," she explained, taking a sip from her glass. "He wasn't all too pleased with the swap, but it was too late to get anyone else. And she promised me the cash anyway."

I tilted my head at that, but said nothing. I waited for her to continue while I lifted my own glass to my lips.

"So we get here, and after meandering aimlessly around the ballroom, he says he wants to show me something. In my defence, I've never been here before and I promised my friend to see as much of your house as I could so I'd be able to tell her all about it. Little did I know that this creep was planning on taking advantage of me. So, after luring me up here, away from the guards, he opens the door to this room and ushers me inside. I was perusing the wall of books - you have a fabulous collection, by the way - when he started groping me. I told him to stop, which was when he got upset and started calling me names. Unfortunately for him, I have zero patience for nonsense and when he came at me, I defended myself."

The thought that she had endured that under my roof was enough to make me offer, rather quietly, "I do apologise that you had to go through that."

She shrugged absently, but I could tell she was still upset. I think anyone in her shoes would be pissed off. I was relieved she was able to defend herself.

"You would think with the rules you put in place, these clients would be less likely to touch us without consent."

I was able to keep the surprise off my face, and repeated, "The rules that I put in place?"

"Oh, s**t. I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Mr. Hudson here hired me for my services. I charge by the hour," she explained, sipping once again. "Though, that groping is definitely going to cost him a hefty fee."

I watched her a moment longer, intrigued beyond all measure.

"You're one of mine."

"A prostitute?" she checked, brows raised. "Yes, I am. Or escort, rather. Whatever… But that doesn't mean I deserve to be assaulted by a man who can't even piss straight."

No, she did not.

Besides it being immoral and disgusting, everyone knew what happened to people who dared to touch my girls without their consent. The consequences were too painful to risk, and I made sure they were carried through, without bias. Mr. Hudson would be punished accordingly.

I looked down at him, then up at her.

During all the fuss, I hadn't actually stopped to get a good look at her. She's staring at a spot on the floor, obviously deep in thought. After the fight, her dark curls were tousled and in disarray around her heart-shaped face. She ran a small, manicured hand through her mane absently, in an attempt to tame it, then frowned when it didn't obey, her thick, dark eyebrows knitting together on her forehead before she turned those chocolate brown eyes on me.

"You're not going to cut off his balls, are you?"

The question caught me off guard, and I was almost amused at how serious she seemed.

"Would you like me to?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she shook her head firmly, watching me with an unrecognisable expression. Perhaps she was trying to figure out if I was joking.

I wasn't.

She twisted her full, red-coated lips to the side, her gaze sweeping over me slowly, equally curious of me. I am drawn in, unable to look away from her chocolate brown gaze. Was it possible for someone's eyes to be so welcoming and open, yet distant and aloof all at once? If it was a skill, then she had mastered it to absolute perfection.

"You're different from what I expected," she admitted suddenly, twirling her glass.

Curious. I c****d my head sideways a degree. "How so?"

"Well, you don't have horns sticking out of her head and a tail to match," she mentioned, gesturing to me.

"I've taken a form your human mind will accept."

She chuckled softly, slowly rising from the chair. I watched her throw the bourbon down her throat without looking away from me. There was no wincing or unpleasant outward reaction as the liquor burned its way down her throat.

The white dress she was wearing hugged her curves, showing them off beautifully. The gems and pearls that adorned the strapless neckline of her dress draw attention to her sizable cleavage, yet leave her collarbone and the delicate column of her neck bare. The garment was in no way modest, but she wore it with grace and unparalleled sophistication. Even if I hadn’t met her here, I would have been drawn to her. She would stand out in a room full of a thousand people. She was that stunning.

"All jokes aside, though, what do you plan on doing with him?" she urged, walking towards me, her expression carefully neutral. She took the bottle I was holding, careful not to touch me and filled half the glass.

"Do you want me to be honest with you?"

She nodded.

This close, I could see the freckles sprinkled sporadically over her nose and high cheekbones, her chin and her forehead. I could also smell the subtle scent of her rosewater perfume, the citrus wafting from her hair. It was a sweet, heady cocktail that had me craving a taste of her. A craving quickly morphing into hunger the longer she kept looking at me as if she wanted to tear my clothes off my body.

"It’ll be taken care of. You need not worry about the specifics.”

"I've heard you brand the people who disobey your rules. Although, I have to confess that I’ve never seen anyone with this supposed ‘Mark’."

Because they ended up dead within weeks of my ruling. I wasn't the only person who didn't tolerate assault. "And you most likely never will."

She lifted her glass, her beige, manicured nails tapping against the crystal. There was a lengthy silence as we weighed each other up, and she nodded to herself as though she had come to a conclusion. "So you're not as bad as they make you out to be."

"I am," I said, emptying my glass. "I just hide it well. Handsome face, effortless charm, tailored suit... And suddenly everyone forgets just how wicked you really are."

She licked her lips, catching the lower one between her perfectly white teeth.

"And just how wicked are you, Mr. Serrano?"

The invitation was clear. And I would be a fool not to accept. I was just about to show this mystery woman the extent of my wickedness first-hand when her phone rang, vibrating furiously on the chair she had just vacated. She sighed softly, then turned to retrieve it, answering in French.

"Oui, mon amour, je vais bien. J'ai dû éteindre mon téléphone pendant que je travaillais." (Yes, my love, I'm fine. I had to turn off my phone while I was working.)

Her tone and the term of endearment have me gritting my teeth together, annoyed that she was attached. She looked over at me, her fingers rubbing together anxiously as she briefly summarised the events of the past few minutes.

"Oui, je comprends," she said, her tone serious. Then, a smile. "Il a froid."

He really was out cold. Hudson hadn't stirred once since she knocked him out. I hoped he wasn't dead. Getting the body out of here with all those guests downstairs would be… difficult.

I moved over to the service button by the door, pressed it once and waited. One of the staff knocked almost immediately on the door, and I opened it to grant them entry. Giffords glanced at the beautiful woman in white, the unconscious man on the floor, then at me.

"I'll get Percival," he stated, leaving immediately, and I closed the door behind him quietly.

"I should probably get going," she muttered, grabbing her clutch from the chair and sliding her phone inside. It closed with a soft click and she glanced down at the body on the floor with a subtle smirk.

"You have a little evil on your face there," I told her, gesturing towards her grin.

She turned, her smirk morphing into a genuine, captivating smile that made her deep, brown eyes glow with a radiance I wasn’t familiar with. I opened my mouth to offer that she stay a little longer, and silently cursed when the door swung open, allowing Percy, Ben and James to enter the room. Giffords closed the door quietly behind them, leaving us to work.

They all looked at her, then at me.

Percy regarded the strange woman intently, pointing at Hudson's body on the floor. "Did you do this?"

"Yes, I did. Quite enjoyed it, if I'm being completely honest," she replied, folding her arms over her chest.

Percy approached the body, squatted down next to it and pressed two fingers to Hudson's neck. He stared at her, then stood to his full height. "He's not dead, fortunately."

"I guess that means I'm free to go, right?" she queried, and everyone turned to me.

I was tempted to say no, just so I can have a few more hours with her alone. But I was reluctant to keep her here when she was so desperate to leave. Besides, I had a party to get back to and people to speak with downstairs. And as beautiful as she was, I preferred not to f**k women committed to other men.

My pride would never allow it.

Unless I had a very, very good reason.

But this one? I wanted all to myself. Even if it was just for one night.

"James, please have one of the drivers take Ms..."

"Conteh. Eden Conteh."

Our eyes locked once more, the invitation evidently still open, should I choose to accept it.

"Please have one of the drivers take Ms. Conteh home. I'm sure she's had enough excitement for one night."

James nodded, gesturing towards the door behind me. Before walking past me, she stopped briefly to adjust my bow-tie. Ben reached out instinctively to remove her hand, but stopped when he saw me gesture silently in a cutting motion. Eden lowered her hand to my chest, causing my body to warm, an electric charge the likes of which I've never felt rushing through me. I was pleasantly surprised to realise I wasn’t disgusted by her touch, and welcomed the warmth of her small hand on my chest.

With her head tilted back slightly to look up at me, her eyes wide and hypnotic and gorgeous, sincerity and mischief evident in them, she smiled once again. "Thank you for your generous hospitality, Mr. Serrano. I look forward to finding out just how wicked you really are," she whispered, just loud enough for only me to hear.

She dropped her hand to her side, then walked around me to the door. I turned slightly, my gaze lowering to her ass, watching her hips sway with every step she took.

"Oh.” Eden paused, glancing over her bare shoulder at me. "You've probably been hearing this all day, but happy birthday."

It took a minute for me to realise after she was gone that she was the first and only person to actually wish me a happy birthday in years.

***

I watched the sun rise from my seat at the breakfast table on the terrace. My brother and I were casually discussing the events of the previous night, filling each other in on everything the other had missed. Everything had wrapped up just after three, and by the time I came downstairs for breakfast, the staff had finished cleaning up the mess from the party. I'd have to remember to give them all a sizable bonus at the end of the month.

I pushed my aviators up the bridge of my nose to keep the glare of the sun from my eyes, and admired the bright, vivid colours of the flowers from the garden. A variety of greens, yellows, oranges, reds, purples and blues, perfectly coordinated to look like a large rainbow.

Percy stepped out of the glass doors in his clothes from last night, his tie and blazer gone, sleeves folded to his elbows. He hadn't slept in almost two days, but you wouldn't even know it.

The benefits of old age.

He had a neat folder in his hand, which he carefully placed beside me without a word, and pulled up a chair to sit across from Tomas. One of the staff members approached to set his place, then backed away when he waved her away. He reached for one of the plates, stacking four slices of toast on it before dishing out some eggs.

"What's that? I thought we didn't discuss business at the table," Tomas noted.

"That's not business," he said, meeting Tomas's gaze. "It's information on a pretty, little thing your brother is trying to–"

Tomas raised a hand, scrunching up his face in disgust. "Please, spare me. I'm trying to eat."

"Were you not just telling me about the minister you had your way with in the garage last night?” I questioned, arching a brow.

My brother grinned, leaning forward in his t-shirt to pour himself a glass of pineapple juice. "You would think she’d be a prude, but she was actually very–"

"Could you not? It's six in the morning," Percy admonished.

"You started it, bringing that file with you," Tomas argued, taking his glass with him as he stood, disappearing into the house with a whistle on his lips and a spring in his step.

"On that note... The woman from last night? The one who knocked out one of your men and left him for dead?

"Yes?" I prompted, pushing away my empty plate.

"What happened between the two of you exactly? Why were you so unbothered by her actions?"

"She defended herself. Hudson groped her without her consent and when he didn't stop, she hit him."

His expression softened slightly with understanding, and he shrugged. "It doesn't change that she's an escort, Dominic."

My cup of coffee sat waiting as I added a cube of sugar to it. I stirred it slowly while Percy sat watching me, chewing his toast.

"I am well aware, Percival."

"One of yours, actually."

"Yes, I know."

"What designs do you have for an escort, Dominic?"

I paused to lift the cup and sip the strong brew, the steam clouding the sunglasses momentarily. It cleared when I set the cup back on the table. “I'm going to f**k her, Percy. You already know that, otherwise you wouldn't have taken the time to run an extensive background check on her."

He shook his head, wiped the corners of his mouth before tossing his napkin aside. "This is going to come back to bite you in the ass," he warned, standing.

"I am not a child anymore, Percival."

The look he gave me was doubtful, but he returned my grin with a knowing smirk before he said, "That's all her information. Or what I could find. There are quite a few holes in her past, so you might want to wait until I have all the information before you stick your c**k in her–"

"Thank you, Percy. Your efficiency is appreciated as always."

He shrugged, took his plate of food and the jug full of pineapple juice with him, completely unbothered by my abruptness this morning. I pulled the file closer, so it was directly in front of me, and carefully opened it.

Eden Shahina Conteh.

Born to Samaria Conteh, and raised in Cennea, a small farming town just outside Nito. She relocated here at the age of eleven with her mother, whose location is currently unknown. There wasn't a death certificate attached to prove she'd bitten the big one and no missing person's report either, so she was probably still around somewhere. There was nothing here about her father, though. Not even a name on her birth certificate, which raises a bit of a red flag for me, honestly. I wonder if her daddy issues were the reason for her current occupation?

No known siblings, no flatmates, no boyfriends or husbands. Not even a pet, according to this report. It said here that she lived in one of my residential buildings on Fourth Street, just two blocks from where she worked at Le Petite Mort as a prostitute.

No, "escort".

Anyway… She's been working there for the past three years, following an arrest for the murder of a classmate. The charges were dropped, and the death was ruled an accident, but she was kicked out of UBI after several complaints from other students. There was definitely a story there, if any of this s**t was true.

I turned the page to her report cards from high school and university. Her records were outstanding and she'd received several scholarships from local and international universities. Her work with computers and software was 'unparalleled' and she was 'a genius', according to her mathematics and technology teacher. Obviously, she was an intelligent woman, with resources at her fingertips and the uncanny ability to master anything she put her mind to.

I moved on to her profile, the one accessible to every client of Le Petite Mort, where all her skills were listed.

And what a f*****g list.

It was very long and very impressive, and I got very hard reading through two entire pages of her abilities.So why on earth was someone with so much potential wasting her time as a hooker? And, with the information presented to me - some of which was admittedly suspicious and intriguing - did I really want to risk bringing this woman into my bed?

Giffords appeared then, as quietly as always.

"Sir, your car is outside waiting to take you to the airport."

"Five more minutes, please, Giffords."

He nodded respectfully, then turned on his heel, leaving me alone once more. I raised the steaming brew to my lips, my thoughts returning to Eden.

Did it really matter that so much of her information was missing? Did I care that she was hiding her past from me and anyone else who might look into her? And when I thought back to that moment when she'd touched me, her fingers stroking the cotton of my shirt while her scent teased at my nostrils...

Well, I realised it didn't matter at all.