Rachel POV
The weekend was finally over, and another school week was here.
I stood in the courtyard of the manor, dressed in a blue cottagecore skirt and soft white sneakers, my bag slung over my shoulder and my black hair plaited into two braids.
I stood before Damien and Mr Vance, their faces grim. Damien's gaze was a physical weight, heavy and intense. It wasn't just stern; it felt like it was lingering on the line of my neck, the way the skirt fell against my legs.
His jaw was tight, a muscle feathering in his cheek as he stared, lost in some private, frustrating thought.
His gaze made me self-conscious and confused as I adjusted the sleeve of my sweater
“Remember the protocol, Mrs Montrel," Vance said, his voice calm but firm, pulling my attention from his boss. "Mark will be y
