Maid For Daddies.

Chapter 10

Billie.

I carried out the dinner containing seared steaks, garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus glistening with butter and set them down one after another. Law had texted earlier on the new phone: Late at the office. Don’t wait.

So it was just Leon and Silas tonight, the two of them seated under the string lights like kings at a silent court.

I poured the red wine in crystal glasses and stepped back to the edge of the terrace, tray in hand, ready to disappear.

Silas cut into his steak first. “I’ve been thinking about Molly,” he said.

Leon’s fork paused mid-air. A faint curve touched his mouth, not quite a smile but close. “She’s greedy for it. She wants attention and care. ”

Silas chuckled once. “She’s patient, though. I know we’ll give it when we’re ready. And when we do… we’ll take care of her right. The way she likes.”

Leon leaned back, swirling his wine. “ Her impatience is growing, but she'll get the love she deserves.”

I stood frozen, tray pressed to my chest, pretending to adjust a napkin that didn’t need adjusting.

This is the first time I’d heard them speak of another woman like this. Like she was someone special and they wanted to spoil.

Who was she? A new maid they were bringing in? A mistress they kept somewhere else? Or just some casual hookup they talked about with that, appreciative tone?

I felt a strange unwelcome heat that made me want to disappear faster.

I slipped back inside before they could notice the way my fingers tightened on the tray.

The kitchen swallowed me. I started on the dishes, my mind wouldn’t stop.

What did Molly look like? Blonde? Blue-eyed? Soft curves and easy smile? The kind of woman men like them would actually want? How long had they known her? Would she show up here soon, walk these halls, sit at their table, get the version of them that wasn’t all ice and rules? And if she did, would they turn even harsher on me, the thief who owes them a lot of money?

I cleared the dining table once they finished, then retreated upstairs to my room.

I let my hair down slowly, fingers pulling pins free. Dark strands fell over my shoulders.

“Let your hair down.”Leon’s voice echoed in my head.

The memory hit hard, his steady gaze across the desk and the way his eyes tracked every inch as it spilled free.

“Good girl.”

Two words that made me feel strangely… good.

I stripped for the shower and I stood under the spray trying to rinse the thoughts away. The way they looked at me like they were measuring exactly how far they could push before I broke.

It was as though I wasn't just the maid who owes them money it's like they saw something else in me.

I climbed into bed, sheets cool against bare skin.

Sleep came slow when it did, I found myself in a room.

Leon between my thighs his tongue tracing heat that made my back arch. Silas’s mouth on my breast, sucking and teasing. His stubble scraping skin. Law at my neck. His kisses turning to bites, low growls against my pulse.

It felt so real. Pleasure so tight, building higher that I felt myself reach my peak.

I jolted awake.

Heart pounding. My skin flushed and sheets twisted around my legs.

Guilt slammed in immediately.

What the hell was that dream?

Men like them wouldn’t want a girl like me. They hated me. I wasn’t perfect like whoever Molly was or anything to crave.

I fumbled for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit, 5:47 a.m. Enough to shower , dress and start the day.

The sun would be up soon.

I sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, staring at the dark window.

The dream lingered and the worst part is I wondered how it would be like to experience it for real. I've never had anyone go down on me. s*x with Brian was plain. I've never thought of stepping out of my marriage even though I was curious to know how it felt to —

I tapped my head to snap out of it.

~~~~~~~

SILAS.

The wine cellar door was already ajar when I stepped inside. I carried the small black duffel slung over one shoulder, zipper half-open, the thing inside shifting with each step. I’d come down to hand it off.

Her back to me, balanced on the ladder, reaching high for the top shelf. Rag in one hand, the other gripping the rung. The ladder shifted subtle at first, then a real wobble. She didn’t notice.

One foot slipped.

I moved without thinking. Dropped the bag.

Caught one hand splaying across her back, the other catching her elbow. Her body slammed into mine, soft impact against hard muscle. She froze there, breathless.

I held her suspended a second longer than necessary.

“Careful,” I whispered. “Secure the ladder next time. It’s not rocket science.”

Her feet found the floor. I eased her down, letting her feel every inch of the descent. Her hands stayed on my chest a beat too long, fingers curling into the fabric of my Henley like she needed the anchor. Then she realized and jerked them back and clasped them behind her back like a guilty child.

I looked down at her.

Her wide and startled eyes, caught the low light just right. Iris expanding with that mix of shock and curiosity she couldn’t hide. The shimmer hit me like a punch. Flecks of gold and deep brown swirling, almost ethereal, like looking into a cluster of distant galaxies trapped in glass. One of the most beautiful sets of eyes I’d ever seen. And she had no f*****g clue.

She looked away first. “I’ll… be careful.”

I reached into the duffel and pulled out the folded bundle. A burgundy uniform slightly shorter than her usual uniform by an inch with sheer black stockings with garter clips.

“Here. Once you’re done with the cellar, you’ll clean Molly.”

She stared at the fabric in my hand and took it slowly.

“Molly isn’t a person?” she asked, voice small but edged with something hopeful. “I overheard you and Leon last night…”

“Nosy little thing, aren’t you? No. Molly’s not a person.”

Her shoulders dropped half an inch. Relief, clear as day. She thought Molly was another woman we wanted and spoil. The realization hit me, she was jealous. And that intrigued me more than it should.

She unfolded the uniform, running her thumb over the stockings. “Why a different one? For… Molly?”

“Because Molly isn’t like the other rooms,” I said, keeping my tone even. “She requires a little more… care.”

Her gaze flicked up, first to my mouth, then lower. Down my chest left then right. Then Back up, down again twice. Hungry in a way she probably didn’t even recognize.

I tilted my head. “Something on your mind?”

“Nothing,” she blurted too fast. She spun on her heel and bolted.

I watched her go. Then chuckled under my breath.

Last night replayed in my head. I slipped into her room after midnight. Standing at the foot of her bed for three solid hours watching her sleep. The way she’d arched under the sheets, soft moans slipping past her lips, hips shifting like she was chasing something she couldn’t quite reach. Whatever… or whoever she’d been dreaming about had her body responding like it was real.

She had no idea I’d been there memorizing every hitch of her breath and every flutter of her lashes.

I leaned against the wall.

“Keep dreaming like that, little thief,” I muttered to the empty cellar. “One night I won’t just watch. I’ll make sure you wake up knowing exactly whose hands are on you.”