Chapter Three
1213 Words
"Why is it so damn hard to find one girl?" Lucas’s frustration was palpable as he slammed his fist into the air, the sound echoing off the walls of the grand room. His men stood lined up in front of him, all of them stiff, waiting for whatever would come next.
His voice was low, but the tension in it was unmistakable. “This girl is the only way I can keep my position as CEO. I know my mother’s obsessed with me getting married and I can't lose my place to my worthless cousin,” he muttered, as if speaking to himself but loud enough for anyone to hear.
His eyes narrowed, and his gaze became sharper as he gave his orders. “Double the sources. Find her, no excuses. Even if you have to search the bottom of the ocean—just do it!”
"Yes, sir," his men replied in unison, their voices flat as they turned and filed out of the room.
I froze, standing just outside the door, hidden enough that they wouldn’t notice me eavesdropping. In my hands, I carried a tray with a coffee cup, meant for him, but now it felt heavier than I could manage.
A few days ago, my own father gave me away—as collateral—to a complete stranger. All because he couldn’t pay back the loan he took to buy Bella a car.
Brentford the boss of a loan shark syndicate, had given me a job, to work and pay back the loan and he'd been clear: “Just work hard, stay out of trouble, pay off the debt, and you’ll be free.” But I had no idea I’d be walking into the storm that was Lucas Blackwood.
Who didn’t know about the Blackwood family? They’d been on the cover of Forbes more times than I could count. They were freakishly rich. And here I was, about to be a housekeeper in their mansion? My heart pounded in my chest as I stepped forward, reminding myself to be careful.
“Don’t mess this up, Elena. This is your chance. Just don’t mess it up,” I muttered under my breath as I pushed open the door.
I took a deep breath, adjusting my apron before stepping into the room. My eyes went straight to him.
Lucas Blackwood.
He sat there, as composed and powerful as the rumors had described him, but what no one warned me about was how intense his presence was. He wasn’t just a rich CEO—he was magnnetic. His eyes were sharp, cutting through the room with a focus that made it feel like I was invisible and he the most important thing in his world at that moment. He didn’t look up from his phone as I entered, but the air around him crackled with authority.
His voice broke the silence like a whip. “Do you get some sort of sick pleasure watching me while you stand there like a damn statue?”
I blinked, caught off guard. The words sliced through me, and before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Sorry, sir, I just—”
But that was when my foot caught the hem of my dress. Time slowed. I reached out, trying to steady myself, but it was too late. The coffee I’d been holding sloshed out of the cup, and next thing I knew, it was spilling all over Lucas’s shirt.
His phone dropped to the couch as he shot up, his eyes burning with fury. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He didn’t even look at me, just quickly started brushing the coffee off his shirt like I didn’t exist.
My stomach churned, and I scrambled to apologize. “I’m so sorry, sir! I didn’t mean—”
I bent down to try and clean up the mess, but before I could even get close, Lucas’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.
And then I was falling again. This time, though, he caught me.
His grip on my waist firm, almost too firm, as he steadied me. I couldn’t look away. His chest was right there, his breath shallow. For a moment, it felt like time had frozen. His dark eyes locked with mine, and my heart beat so loudly in my ears, I thought he might hear it.
But he didn’t let go. His hands still rested on my waist. My breath hitched, and the world around me blurred.
Then, just as quickly as it had all started, Lucas snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Hey, miss. Are you planning on staring at me all day?"
The heat on my cheeks was almost unbearable. I quickly pulled myself away, straightening my dress, my voice trembling. “I—I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”
Lucas’s voice cut through me again, sharper this time. “Is this your first day?”
I could feel my heart sink. This is it. I’m done for. I couldn’t look him in the eye. He was furious.
“Y-Yes, sir,” I stammered, unable to stop the nerves from spilling out.
Lucas groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. “I told them I only need people with experience. Who the hell hired you?”
The panic inside me reached a fever pitch. Please don’t fire me. Not yet.
Before I could say anything else, Lucas’s voice rang out, commanding the room. “Helen!”
A woman, probably in her thirties, stepped inside. Her gaze flicked between us before settling on Lucas.
“Who hired her?” he demanded, his voice barely controlled.
“Well, sir…” Helen hesitated, clearly not knowing how to answer.
Lucas waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. Just take her away.”
I felt a sick twist in my stomach. Was I being fired already?
Helen’s questioned. “Sir…?”
“Take her away. Teach her the job,” Lucas said, his tone now cold and final. He didn’t look at me again.
Helen turned to me. “Come with me,” she said, not even waiting for me to respond before walking out.
I followed her, my mind spinning, half in disbelief.
Just as we reached the door, Lucas’s voice cut through the air again.
“Get someone to clean this up. And make sure she learns the damn job.”
I turned to look back, and for the briefest of moments, our eyes met again. But there was no warmth, no softness in his gaze—only that same cold, calculating look.
This time, it felt more like a gut punch. I was pretty sure my heart had just stopped, but Helen was already pulling me away before I could process it all.
“Do you want to be fired?” Helen shot me a look.
“No…” My voice barely came out. Please, don’t fire me. Please don’t.
Helen smirked. “You’ve got no idea how lucky you are. Lucas doesn’t give second chances. You’re his first."
I blinked in surprise. “Wait... really?”
She didn’t answer, just shoved the kitchen door open, and I followed, my brain still in shock.
Why the hell did he let me stay?
- Writer
