The First Rule
866 Words
POV: Ameera
---
The first time I saw Killian Vance, he was yelling at someone on the phone in Italian.
The second time, he was standing ten feet away from me, and I think I forgot how to breathe.
“Move.”
That was all he said. One word. Low, clipped, like he was swallowing fire. His tone didn’t rise, but it carried through the marble hallway like a gunshot.
I jumped back so fast I almost tripped over the cleaning cart. “Sorry—sir. I didn’t mean to—”
He didn’t even look back. Just walked past me like I didn’t exist. Like I was just another object in the house.
He was taller than I expected. Taller, broader, colder. His black suit fit him like it was stitched from secrets. His jawline looked like it could cut stone. And his eyes—
God. Those eyes.
Slate grey. Glacial. Like they’d seen every mistake you were about to make and had already judged you for it.
He disappeared around the corner, leaving behind the faintest trail of expensive cologne and something else.
Something darker.
Something that made my knees weak.
---
“Welcome to hell, sugar.”
I turned. A red-haired girl was leaning against the wall with her arms folded. Pretty, bored-looking, and clearly not new.
“Carla,” she said, tilting her chin. “Laundry team. You must be the newbie.”
I nodded. “Ameera.”
She looked me up and down like she was trying to figure out how long I’d last. “So. You just met the boss.”
“If that’s what you call it.”
“That’s what everyone calls it. Killian Vance doesn’t do greetings. Or smiles. Or warmth of any kind.”
I couldn’t help it. “Is he always like that?”
Carla smirked. “That? Honey, that was him being nice.”
---
Later that day, Miss Agnes handed me a schedule that looked like it had been designed by a prison warden.
5:00 AM – Wake up
5:30 AM – Uniform, tidy quarters
6:00 AM – Kitchen prep
8:00 AM – East wing duties
10:00 AM – Silent hour begins. No disturbances.
She eyed me carefully.
“Listen closely, Ameera. In this house, you do not speak unless spoken to. Especially not to Mr. Vance. That is the first rule.”
I nodded.
Miss Agnes lowered her clipboard. “And keep your head down. You’re here to work, not to be noticed.”
---
I tried.
I really tried.
But how do you not notice a man like Killian Vance?
Every time he walked through a room, the air changed. People straightened up like he controlled gravity itself. No one dared to meet his eyes. No one asked questions.
He was quiet.
Too quiet.
But beneath that silence was something powerful. Like he could destroy everything around him and not flinch.
And then… there were the rumors.
I heard them whispering when they thought I wasn’t listening.
“Did you hear about the last girl?”
“She looked him in the eyes. Fired the same day.”
“Some say he’s cursed. Others say he just doesn’t care.”
---
That night, I lay awake in my tiny room, the moonlight cutting across the floor. My sheets were thin, the mattress harder than a rock, and my thoughts loud as hell.
Why did I feel like I was being watched?
No — more like studied.
I sat up. The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.
And then… a knock.
Two slow taps.
Right on my door.
My heart stopped.
I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Another knock.
Slower this time.
Then footsteps. Fading.
I scrambled up and opened the door just a crack.
No one was there.
But something was.
The air felt… heavier.
My chest rose and fell too fast. My hands were cold.
I closed the door and locked it twice.
---
The next morning, I was running late.
Rule one: Don’t speak unless spoken to.
Rule two: Don’t be late.
I had already broken both.
My uniform wasn’t buttoned properly, and my bun was a disaster. I raced down the hallway, rounding a corner—
And slammed right into a wall.
Except it wasn’t a wall.
It was him.
Killian. Vance.
My face hit his chest. My hands landed on his suit. He didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
I looked up in horror.
His eyes met mine.
For a second, we just stood there.
Breathless.
And then—his hand moved.
Not to push me away. Not to scold me.
But to brush a lock of hair from my cheek.
A touch. Gentle. Deliberate. Dangerous.
My heart went silent.
“You’re late,” he said, voice low and unreadable.
“I—yes. I’m sorry, Sir.”
He didn’t answer.
Just stared at me for a beat longer than necessary.
Then he walked away.
---
I stood there, frozen.
Skin tingling. Mind blank.
Killian Vance had touched me.
And I had a feeling...
That would not be the last time.
********************
Girllll be serious 😂
Hope you guys liked this chapter
Don't forget to leave a comment 💋
- Writer
