Serving his desires

Chapter 6

The morning air was crisp as I stepped into the grand kitchen, the soft clinking of silverware the only sound breaking the silence. The mansion had an eerie stillness today, a quiet that made me hyper aware of every movement. I hadn’t seen Lucian since last night, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

I busied myself with arranging the breakfast trays, focusing on my work as if that could erase the weight in my chest. It had been days since our last real conversation, and even though things had started to feel somewhat normal again, I couldn’t ignore the way my body tensed whenever I was near him.

The sound of approaching footsteps made my pulse spike. I didn’t turn immediately, but I knew. Lucian. His presence was like a shift in the air, commanding and undeniable.

"You're early," he said, his voice low and unreadable.

I turned slowly, keeping my expression neutral. "It's my job."

His eyes swept over me, sharp as ever, but there was something else there, something quieter. He nodded once, moving past me to pour himself a cup of coffee. I expected him to leave after that, to go about his morning like he always did, but instead, he leaned against the counter, watching me.

"Are you avoiding me."

I froze for only a second before regaining composure. "Who am I to do that, sir?"

"That’s not what I asked."

My fingers curled around the edge of the counter. Of course, he would notice. Lucian noticed everything. I lifted my chin slightly, meeting his gaze. "I just figured you’d prefer some space because it looked like you needed it and who am I to even talk to you, I'm just a maid."

A beat of silence stretched between us. Then, to my surprise, he chuckled, a low, quiet sound. It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cruel either. "How thoughtful."

I swallowed, unsure of how to respond. Before I could say anything else, he pushed off the counter and started toward the door. But just before leaving, he glanced over his shoulder.

"Don't overthink things, Mara."

And then he was gone, leaving me standing there, pulse unsteady, stomach twisting. What was even funny? Ughhh.

Don’t overthink things.

Too late.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the space where Lucian had just been. His words lingered in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore.

Don’t overthink things, Mara.

As if that was even possible.

Shaking off the strange feeling curling in my chest, I focused on finishing the breakfast setup. The other staff had already started moving about, but I felt... unsettled. I didn’t like how easily Lucian saw through me. I had been keeping my replies short, avoiding unnecessary conversations, doing exactly what I thought he wanted and yet, somehow, he still noticed.

I carried a tray toward the dining room, careful to steady my hands. The last thing I needed was to make a mess in front of him. When I entered, Lucian was already seated at the head of the long mahogany table, one hand wrapped around a coffee cup, the other scrolling through his phone. He didn’t look up as I set his plate down.

“Will that be all, sir?” I asked, keeping my tone polite but distant.

He finally glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Sit."

I hesitated. "I—"

"Mara." His voice wasn’t sharp, but it left no room for argument.

Reluctantly, I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, folding my hands in my lap. The dining room felt colder now, the space between us thick with something I couldn’t quite name.

Lucian leaned back slightly, studying me. “Tell me something.”

I kept my expression neutral. “Yes?”

“Do you always run away when something unsettles you?”

The question caught me off guard. My pulse jumped, and I had to fight to keep my face calm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He smirked, slow and deliberate. “Don’t you?”

I swallowed. “If you’re referring to how I’ve been keeping things professional—”

“I’m referring to how you react to me.” His voice was smooth and unhurried. “You shrink back. You keep your answers short. It’s not professionalism. It’s fear.”

Heat crept up my neck. Was I afraid of him? Not exactly. But I was afraid of what his presence did to me, the way he made me second-guess my every action, my every thought.

I exhaled, trying to steady myself. “I respect boundaries.”

Lucian studied me for a long moment, then hummed as if amused. “Boundaries.” He took a slow sip of coffee. “Interesting.”

I wanted to say something, anything to end this strange conversation, but before I could, he stood up.

“Eat some breakfast,” he said, turning away. “Then get back to work.”

And just like that, the conversation was over.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My appetite was gone, but I knew better than to leave the table without eating at least a little. Still, as I forced myself to take a bite of toast, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucian was toying with me.

Or maybe worse, he was testing me.

And I had no idea if I was passing or failing.

I finished my breakfast, though every bite felt forced. My thoughts kept circling back to Lucian’s words, the way he watched me so closely, as if I was something to be examined and figured out. Why was he even making me sit with him?

By the time I got up and cleared my plate, he was already gone.

I spent the rest of the morning avoiding him, throwing myself into my work. Cleaning, organizing, making sure everything was in place. Anything to distract myself.

But as the day stretched on, I couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence, even when he wasn’t in the room. It was in the lingering scent of his cologne in the hallway, the distant sound of his voice when he spoke to someone on the phone.

By the time the evening rolled in, I was exhausted.

I was in the laundry room, folding fresh sheets, when I heard the deep timbre of his voice behind me.

“Come to my study.”

I startled, nearly dropping the sheet in my hands. Turning, I found him leaning against the doorway, watching me. His dark eyes were unreadable.

I swallowed. “Did I do something wrong?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “No.”

Then why did it feel like I was being summoned for punishment?

I hesitated before finally nodding. “Okay.”

He didn’t wait for me, just turned and walked off, expecting me to follow.

I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands down my uniform before stepping out and trailing after him.

Lucian’s study was one of the grandest rooms in the house. Dark wood, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a large desk that looked like it belonged to a man with power.

He was already at the desk when I entered, one hand resting on the surface, fingers tapping lazily.

“Close the door,” he said.

I did.

“Come here.”

I stepped closer, keeping a safe distance.

Lucian’s gaze flickered over me, as if assessing. Then he leaned back slightly. “Why did you take this job?”

The question caught me off guard.

“I needed work,” I said cautiously.

“There are other jobs,” he said smoothly. “Why this one?”

I frowned. “I was good at it.”

Lucian let out a low hum, tilting his head. “Good at cleaning?”

I shifted slightly. “Good at handling people like you.”

His lips twitched, just barely. “People like me?”

I exhaled. “Difficult men. Cold men. Men who don’t let people get close.” I said all this trying to be tough but to be honest my insides were hot.

Silence stretched between us.

Then, finally, he spoke. “And yet, here you are.”

A shiver ran through me at the way he said it.

I straightened. “Was there something you needed, sir?”

His eyes darkened slightly at the formality, but he didn’t correct me.

Instead, he stood, slowly closing the distance between us.

I didn’t move.

When he finally stopped, mere inches away, his voice dropped lower.

“You should be careful, Mara,” he said. “Doing nice things for me. Bringing me tea. Cleaning my room. Being concerned.”

I swallowed hard. “Why?”

His fingers brushed along my wrist, just barely. “Because I don’t do well with kindness.”

My breath hitched.

Lucian studied my reaction before stepping back, breaking the tension as easily as he had created it.

“You can go now,” he said simply, as if the moment hadn’t just happened.

I blinked, my heart still racing.

Then, without another word, I turned and walked out of the study, my pulse still thundering in my ears.

I didn’t look back.

But I could still feel his gaze on me long after I had left the room.

What is even going on?

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