Maid For Daddies.

Chapter 6

Billie.

My eyes fluttered open to a dull, hammering pain behind my left temple. The world tilted, blurred, then snapped into cruel focus.

I was tied to a chair.

Thick rope gnawed at my wrists, crossed and cinched brutally behind my back. More rope lashed my ankles to the chair legs. I tried to shift, just an inch. The wood creaked under me; the ropes didn’t give.

I lifted my head, and the room came into view.

I knew this room.

The pale marble floor I’d mopped on my first day. The high ceiling with its single iron chandelier. The narrow window high on the wall, too small to climb through even if my hands were free. I’d spent forty minutes here scrubbing thinking how strange it was that a mansion this expensive still smelled faintly of old money and bleach.

Now I was the one who couldn’t leave.

My gaze drifted across the dim space and snagged on a small table three meters away. Something sat on it, draped beneath a plain black sheet. For reasons I couldn’t name, that covered thing scared me more than the ropes.

Shoes clicked once, twice against the marble before the door clicked open. Law stepped into the room.

He wore a fitting charcoal shirt with sleeves rolled to the forearms with no tie. The top button was undone. He looked almost relaxed.

“Had a good night’s nap?” He asked softly.

My throat clicked when I swallowed. “Why am I here?”

He tilted his head, his eyes slid sideways to the table. To the black sheet.

He walked toward it and stopped beside the table. He pinched the fabric between thumb and forefinger.

My breathing turned shallow. The ropes bit deeper as my wrists flexed uselessly. Sweat prickled along my hairline despite the chill in the room.

“Tell me something, Billie,” he said, voice still calm, almost kind.

He drew the sheet back in one smooth motion.

The shoeboxes spilled into view.

The same ones I'd wiped clean. Now they sat open, lids off. Inside each one: neat bricks of cash, rubber-banded with crisp edges.

I gulped air.

“You clean very well,” Law said, almost conversationally. He brushed a speck of lint from one of the boxes with the back of a knuckle. “But stealing… that part still needs work.”

“I can explain—” The words came out cracked.

“Don’t.”

He turned to the larger metal toolbox sitting beside the cash and flipped it open.

A glint of steel caught the light: the serrated edge of something long and narrow, then the duller sheen of screwdrivers, pliers, things I didn’t want to name.

My breath stopped.

“People who steal from us,” he said, glancing back at me behind his glasses, “usually don’t wake up tied to a chair.”

The door opened behind him.

Silas stepped in next and circled behind my chair like a shark, close enough I felt the air shift. His silence was worse than shouting.

“Why so nervous, Billie? You were pretty confident the last time I saw you.” He finally said.

“I know I made a mistake and I didn't mean it. Just please don't hold it on me and let me go.” I mumbled in fear.

“That's not possible. Billie.” He replied.

Law adjusted his glasses.

Leon walked in, shutting the door behind him.

He carried a small black duffel. Something round rolled inside.

He stopped in front of me. Dropped the bag on the table with a wet smack.

“Tracked you to Vegas,” he said flatly.

“Found you hiding in that roach motel off the Strip.”

“I wasn’t hiding!” I burst out. “I swear, I just needed a few days to—”

Silas leaned down, breath hot on my ear. “Don’t try that. We’re not stupid.”

Law crossed his arms. “Money’s gone. You took it. End of story.”

“It’s all there!” I jerked against the ropes.. “Look, every bundle! It was a mistake, okay? A stupid f*****g mistake. Just let me go!”

Leon’s lips twitched.

He unzipped the duffel. Reached in.

And threw the skull onto the table.

It landed hard, crack echoing off marble. Bone-yellow, crown split open in a massive, jagged fracture.

My scream died in my throat.

“Whose… whose is that?” Barely a whisper.

“A guy who skimmed before you did. Thought he could run with our cash. Same plan you had. You met him before I came.”

He tapped the cracked dome once. “This is what’s left.”

I was shaking so much.

“That’s how thieves wake up,” Silas said softly.

Law crouched level with my eyes. “You signed your soul to the devil when you took that money. We’re here to collect.”

Leon stepped closer.

“But we are feeling gracious Billie. So we'll give you two options.”

One finger up. “We start with fingers. Few at a time. Then two limbs, your call which to start with. Spine next a clean snap. Eyes last, no anaesthesia. You’ll feel every second.”

Second finger. “You work it off. Every dollar and dirty job we hand you. Until the debt’s gone. And maybe you keep breathing.”

Their stares pinned me. I felt small.

My lips trembled. “I… I’ll work. I’ll repay… All of it. Please. Don’t… don’t cut anything.”

Leon studied me a beat longer. Then nodded once.

“Smart.”

Silas moved behind me to loosen the ropes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Leon.

I watched her eyes the whole time. They were wide, glassy, pupils blown with terror and that tiny, desperate spark of relief.

She was still shaking when Silas cut the last rope.

“Resume your duties as the maid of the house. Scrub floors, dust shelves, polish silver and whatever needs doing. You know the drill.”

I stepped close enough she had to tilt her head back to meet my gaze.

“If you ever pull another stealing stunt like that again, we will skip the polite conversation. There will be no options or second chances. Just consequences. The kind that don’t leave much left to bury.”

Her gaze flicked to the skull on the table then snapped back to me. She swallowed so hard.

“I won’t,” she whispered. “I swear.”

I gave her the smallest nod. “Go.”

She didn’t wait for permission twice. Silent footsteps echoing down the hall, door clicking shut upstairs a few seconds later.

The room went still.

I turned to the shoeboxes. Ran a fingertip along the edge of one cash brick, feeling the crisp paper under my nail.

We planted every bundle inside the show box. We knew she’d bite. The house has surveillance. We watched her palms sweat when she first saw the boxes, her hesitation before she took the money. Everything was planned and she fell right into the trap.

Silas picked up the skull, hefted it in one hand like he was testing the weight. “Can I borrow this later? Smash a windshield or something when the rage hits?”

I shrugged. “Whatever keeps you focused.”

Law shifted, arms still crossed, eyes on the empty doorway. “Brian’s slipped the net last night.”

“He won’t be a problem anymore.”

Silas set the skull back down with a dull clunk. “We’ve got her leashed now. Exactly where we want her.”

I exhaled slowly. “But she won’t break easily. That fear is temporary. ”

Law’s jaw tightened. “Means we’ll have to push hard ”

A faint smile tugged at my mouth. “Which we enjoy.”

“Which she’ll hate,” Silas added, almost amused.

I glanced toward the staircase. Up there, she was probably pressed against the guest-room door, heart still hammering, thinking she’d bought herself time.

She’d just traded one set of chains for another thinner, prettier, but tighter around her throat.

I picked up one of the cash bundles, fanned it once, then dropped it back into the box.

“Let her scrub floors for a while,” I said. “Let her think she’s earning her way out. The real work starts when she realizes there is no out.”