ANN
925 Words
Ann learned quickly that the house had its own rhythm.
Morning light filtered through tall windows. Footsteps echoed softly in hallways. Doors opened and closed without voices raised. Everything moved with quiet efficiency, like the estate itself breathed carefully.
Nico walked beside her as he introduced her to the people who kept it that way.
“This is Mrs. Hawthorne,” he said, gesturing to an older woman standing near the kitchen doorway. Her hair was silver and neatly tied back, her eyes sharp but kind. “She’s been here longer than anyone.”
Mrs. Hawthorne smiled warmly. “Welcome, my dear. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Ann flushed. “Thank you.”
“And you already know Nia,” Nico added.
Nia nodded at her, a small smile playing on her lips. “If you need anything, Mrs. Blackwood, you only have to ask.”
Nico’s gaze lingered on Ann for a moment, as if weighing something. “The staff answers to me,” he said firmly. “But you will be treated with respect.”
She nodded, unsure how to respond.
Afterward, he guided her back toward the sitting room, his steps purposeful. “I’ll be leaving tonight,” he said. “Business.”
“Oh,” she murmured. She wasn’t sure why the word felt heavier than it should have.
“I’ll be gone for two days,” he continued. “Viktor will remain here. Nothing changes.”
Nothing ever did.
“I understand,” she said softly.
He paused near the doorway. “Is there anything you require?”
The question caught her off guard.
She hesitated, then gathered her courage. “A laptop… if that’s allowed. To keep myself busy.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Busy doing what?”
“Reading,” she replied quickly. “Writing. I—I don’t like being idle.”
A long silence stretched between them.
“Nia will arrange it,” he said finally. “Don’t abuse the privilege.”
“I won’t”.
He left without another word.
Later, she found Viktor leaning against the railing near the garden doors.
“You survived day one,” he said. “Impressive.”
She smiled faintly. “Is it that bad?”
He shrugged. “Depends. Nico isn’t… easy.”
Ann hesitated. “You’ve known him a long time?”
Viktor’s expression softened slightly. “Long enough.”
“What is he like?” she asked softly. “When he isn’t… like this.”
Viktor studied her for a moment, his playful expression giving way to something more serious. “Loyal. Ruthless when he has to be. Protective in ways he doesn’t admit.”
“Protective?” she echoed.
“Mm.” He straightened. “He has been hurt and betrayed by most people he trusted so he doesn’t trust easily. If he lets you close, it means something.”
Ann absorbed that quietly.
The house felt different without him — quieter, looser somehow. Ann ate dinner with Mrs. Hawthorne, who asked gentle questions and spoke of the estate as if it were a living thing. Later, alone in her room, Ann opened the laptop Nia had delivered.
Her hands trembled as she typed.
She didn’t tell anyone when she searched for colleges. Or when she filled out application forms. Or when she uploaded her transcripts and wrote a careful personal statement, choosing her words with the same caution she used everywhere else.
She submitted the application just before midnight.
It felt like rebellion.
It tasted sweet.
The second night passed slowly. Ann tossed and turned, thoughts restless, images blurring into one another. When sleep finally claimed her, it was vivid and confusing.
Nico was there.
Closer than he had ever been. His hand was warm against her skin, his gaze unreadable but intense. He wasn’t cold in the dream — he was attentive, consuming, his presence overwhelming in a way that made her breath hitch.
She woke suddenly, heart racing, cheeks burning.
The sheets were twisted around her legs, her body warm in a way that made embarrassment flood her senses. She pressed her face into the pillow, mortified.
It didn’t mean anything, she told herself. It was just a dream.
Still, the memory clung to her all morning.
When Nico returned that evening, she heard him before she saw him — the sound of doors opening, low voices, the unmistakable shift in the air.
She stood in the sitting room when he entered.
His eyes found her instantly.
“Good evening,” he said.
Her face heated uncontrollably. “Good evening.”
He studied her, brows drawn together slightly. “Are you unwell?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Just—warm.”
Silence.
He nodded once. “I trust everything was quiet.”
“Yes,it was.”
He removed his jacket, loosening his tie slightly, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, Ann found herself staring. At his hands. At the strong line of his neck. At the familiar m
sharpness of his presence.
Her cheeks burned again.
Nico noticed.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re blushing.”
“I—” she swallowed. “I’m fine.”
He held her gaze a moment longer, then turned away. “Good.”
As he walked past her, the scent of his cologne brushed her senses, and her heart betrayed her by skipping painfully.
Ann remained frozen long after he’d left the room.
She had survived his absence.
But now that he was back, she wasn’t sure which was more dangerous.
- Writer
