(Isolde's POV)
I stared at the printed list he'd just slid across the desk.
*The private rest room.* That was my first task.
At least he wasn't asking me to mop the floors. That was something.
I glanced up at him. He was already back to his documents, pen moving across the page like I'd already left.
Those ice-blue eyes hadn't even blinked at me.
I told myself to move. I took off my heels by the door, picked up the list, and pushed open the door to the private rest room.
Then I stopped dead.
The place was bigger than my entire apartment. Imported furniture. Top-of-the-line appliances. A king-sized bed with clean, pressed sheets. A full kitchen counter along one wall. Every surface was spotless.
I stood there for a moment, genuinely confused about what there was left to clean.
But
