Kael Woods
I stand in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie, the morning light spilling across the room in soft golden lines. The silence is almost peaceful until I hear it—her voice.
“Mr. Woods! I need your help!”
Cassandra.
I close my eyes, exhaling slowly through my nose. “What does she want now?” I mutter, my patience already wearing thin.
Grabbing my jacket from the bed, I stride down the hall toward her room. When I open the door, she’s sitting on the couch with a blanket around her legs, face twisted in fake pain.
“Why are you calling for me again?” I ask, tone clipped. “You have a house full of staff. Let them help you.”
She pouts, tilting her head just enough to look helpless. “They’re not doing it right,” she says softly. “My leg hurts too much. I can’t even walk properly.
