FLORENCE
After my dad was carted into a long black van, I stared for the longest time at the door, inwardly praying that this wasn’t real. That I would eventually wake up and all of this would be a distant memory, belonging only in the dream world. But, my stepmother’s voice sliced through my daze like a sharp knife and I turned to face her, my neck suddenly heavy for my head.
“Make sure everywhere is sparkling clean,” she barked as if she was talking to a dog and Jenny shot me a mean stare as if daring me to challenge her mother’s authority. I dared not. I simply nodded, dragging my limbs off from the floor to the kitchen. Jenny met me halfway, landing me a hot slap. For a moment, I stood there, too stunned to speak, my ears ringing loudly. What did I do this time?
“That is for being such a loud mouth. If it wasn’t for your stupid speech, those men wouldn’t have taken my dad away.” The way Jenny called him ‘my dad’ like she owned him, one would think he wasn't my dad as well. And I was again reminded of my place in the family–nothing but an outlet for their anger and frustrations. Jenny broke down in tears then, and my stepmother wrapped a hand around her shoulder, gently leading her away from the mess in the living room and up the stairs. Before they disappeared into the dark hallway, my stepmother paused, throwing me a stony stare that prompted my feet to move, and I took out the broom by the side of the kitchen door. As soon as I was alone, the tears pricking at my eyes spilled down my cheeks, and I slid to the ground, my knees weak.
Each day that went by without my father’s presence in the house, was dreary and I sunk further and further into depression. My stepmother and Jenny didn’t make it any easier for me, they dished out orders, expecting it to be carried out the second they said them. I worked both day and night without batting an eyelid and it took a toll on my mental health. One day, while wiping the floors for the umpteenth time, I fell into a deep sleep, a soft snore escaping my lips. I was instantly awoken by something wet dripping on my face and I jerked away, my eyes widening. It was Jenny, holding a bowl of icy water.
“Get up and work, or you’re going to have an empty dish for breakfast,” she spat out, her tone laced with disgust.
I gulped, looking down at my feet. I was not supposed to stare into her eyes when she spoke. It was an unspoken rule. When she left, my heart sunk, a type of sorrow I’d never felt before filling my chest. I missed my mom.
I was dusting down the only table left in the house when I felt a light brush of air against my ear. My head turned and my father was standing at the entrance, clad in the jeans and plain black t-shirt he’d been taken in. He looked older, rougher, but every bit the man I knew. I blinked, pulling out of my trance and I was about to go to him when my stepmother and Jenny both rushed to him, crushing him in a tight hug.
They shed tears and when they eventually released him, he gave a strained smile, his cheeks pinched. But, the smile disappeared when his gaze landed on me. I tried to shrug it off as nothing, but during dinner, all of us seated at the table in the empty room, I could feel it–an invisible wall between my father and I. A wall of distance that even time couldn’t compress. The sounds of spoon and fork clanking against the plate filled the awkward silence and I looked down at the spaghetti I’d cooked with my sweat and tears, my appetite long gone.
I swallowed, just as my father delivered those words that shattered my heart and wrecked my soul. “Florence will not be staying with us anymore.”
At first, I pretended like I didn’t hear him, but the weight of his words settled deep in my chest, weighing my shoulders. What did he mean I wouldn’t be staying here anymore? Was he doing away with me because he finally wanted no reminders of Mom? Where was I going to go?
My stepmother cleared her throat, raising a brow questioningly.
“The only way my debts can be cleared is if she works for Dominique,” my father said to no one in particular.
Jenny continued eating her food like my father hadn’t just said a word, and my face squeezed into a frown. I don’t know Dominique, but I already dislike him. Why did he want to take me away from my family? Why me? And why was it so easy for my father to do away with me?
I was about to speak when I heard my stepmother sniggering and my mouth clamped shut. They didn’t care if I lived or died. No one gave a fuck about me–no one except my mom. But, she’d given up fighting when the claws of cancer gripped her too tightly. Dad had left her there to die and had remarried and I, automatically having nowhere else to go, had to live with them.
“But, dad… please,” I said, finally finding my voice. I was close to tears and fighting hard to keep them at bay. “I don’t want to go. Don’t let them take me away. Please.”
Jenny snickered at my display, but I paid her no mind, pressing on my father to see if he would change his mind. But, the look he gave me was stern as if he’d decided on it before coming home and my heart did a tiny gallop. I decided to try one last time.
“Please, dad. I don’t want to..” The force of his palm striking my cheek just made me sit, transfixed, and a tear leaked from the corner of my eyes. My dad had slapped me. He freaking slapped me.
“My decision is final. You caused all this and you have to pay.”
I packed the last of my things, dragging my feet on the floor. Today was the last I would spend here as dad had informed me a ride was on its way to pick me up and I took one last glance around a room I’ve known for years. It was small, a tiny space I barely slept in, but the room was painted in bright pink–a color that reminded me so much of sunshine and rainbows. That was what my mother was to me until she died. When she took her final breath, a piece of me went with her and was buried six feet below the ground. Heaving a deep sigh, I tried to push the thoughts of my mother away from my head, but they kept coming back, haunting me like a moth drawn to a flame. Why did she have to go? Couldn’t it have been me? Maybe then, I wouldn’t be suffering the way I was now, doing housemaid duties in a house my mother once had a share in. My head swelled with anger at the situation and my fingers bunched together, about to form a fist when a knock suddenly came on the door, interrupting me. Th
I didn’t know who I was expecting to see, but it was definitely not him–the Dominique guy who’d airily walked in that night. He was sitting languidly on the sofa, dressed in blue white-washed jeans and a black singlet that showed off his toned arms, and he looked up as I walked in, a hint of annoyance in his gaze. I could tell he wasn’t happy to see me–not at all. He frowned, his eyes never leaving my body. My face flushed with heat at his intense stare and I was angry at myself for responding that way to a man who’d treated my father like shit. He wasn’t a good man, yes, but he was human and as such, he ought to be treated as one. Whatever had happened to him where he was taken to that made the animosity grow stronger towards me. I was curious to find out, but one part of me–the part that was rational–pulled me back. I didn’t want to get hurt by what I found. Dominique looked at me like he was irritated that I was standing in his pristine living room, and I could tell by the express
DOMINIQUE.It was only when he’d left and I’d reclined to my study that I came into full realisation of what I’d done. I felt like a fool, a tool for use. I shouldn’t have let Mr. Shane go. Worse still, I’d bought into his silly idea of his daughter working for me to repay the money he owed me. How fucked up was that? Years ago when Mr. Shane and I had gone into business, I never thought things would go so awry that it’d end up with him running away with my millions on investment and it had infuriated me to no end. I had to track him down and make him pay somehow. Now, he’d found a way to buy himself out. I hit my fist on the wooden table, muttering a string of curses under my breath. Oh well, his daughter was going to suffer for it. She’d pay for the sins of her father with every sweat and tear used in building the business from scratch. I didn’t care. Someone had to take the fall. Mr. Shane had already informed me through a quick phone call made to one of my bodyguards–the one tha
Florence.I scrunched up my nose as specs of dust wafted through my nostrils. A chill ran down my spine as a familiar sensation worked its way towards my nose. I knew it was coming and I could already picture the outcome. If I didn't find a way to control it, I would sneeze out aloud again, and for the umpteenth time too. The last thing I wanted was to draw more attention to myself. No, the last thing I wanted was for Dominique to hear me. A small part of me couldn't help but think he would have a problem with me sneezing all over the place. Heavens forbid all my germs over his mansion. The moment the sensation in my nose settled, I went on dusting the furniture. I'd just finished with the center table and was currently on the huge bookshelf in the far corner. If I was being honest, Dominique didn't strike me as the kind of man who read books. Because what kind of villain read books? Okay, maybe a couple of them but you get my point. With how stuck up and ruthless he was, I doubted
Chapter Seven Dominique I stared at the bustling city through the sky high glasses of my window. The view of the lights in the city twinkling below, almost like the stars in the night sky made the end of tiring days like these, worth it. I was skeptical at first about installing the windows and allowing the view, because I hated distractions and loved to concentrate on my work and the view looked like a potential distraction. But with each passing day I spent gazing out the window, I couldn't help but mentally pat myself in the back for making the right decision. I stole a glance at my wristwatch and the hands of the clock pointing at 7:45 pm stared back at me. It was late and I should be well on my way home. I cracked my neck and flexed my muscles for a while as I reveled in the days events. It was strenuous and long as always but, something worthwhile came out of it in the end. And now, it was time to celebrate. A buzz from my desk pulled me out of my monologue. It was my p
Chapter Eight Dominique "What? What…" I watched as she stuttered, something flashing in her eyes. Her eyes darted around, somehow unable to focus on one place. Red hue tinted her cheeks as her lips parted slightly. Amidst the erratic beating of her heart against her ribcage, I watched as she squirmed under my gaze. She wanted to be everywhere but here. "Don't speak unless you're asked to." I seethed and watched as she clamped her mouth shut, her lips quivering in fear. " How many times do I have to repeat that?""I'm sorry sir." She stuttered, her voice barely a whisper. " Please." "What just happened out there, huh?" I leaned in even closer. Even the thought of it was enough to get my blood boiling all over again. "What the hell did you thibk you were doing out there?""Nothing, sir." She shook her head so hard I thought it would roll off her body. "I didn't…""Yes you did." I cut her off, my grip on her chin tightening even more. " I saw you. With my own two eyes I watched you
Florence. A groan slid past my lips the moment I peeled my eyes open, but that wasn't the weird part. The weird and excruciatingly hilarious part of all this was why I was groaning. It was literally too early, I doubted the sun had even come yet, and here I was, groaning loudly just because I peeled my eyes open at the break of dawn.It wasn't my fault. I was sure no one would blame me, because if they were in my shoes they would have probably done worse. Worse than my early morning groanings. I sighed as I swung my legs from off my bed, pushing myself up into a sittinh position. I found my gaze straying towards the direction of the clock and I let it, until I regretted it immediately. Just a little high on the rough walls, a wall clock hung, it's hands pointing at five and nine respectively. *Great. It was 5:45am and I just had to be the one in charge of that pompous guy*I wanted nothing more than to the lay on the bed, even if it was for a little while.But knowing the kind
Chapter TenFlorence. Beads of sweat lined my forehead as I clutched onto the broom, like my whole life depended on it. In a way, I could say it actually did. Intense jolts of pain spread through my hands and legs and with each sweep of the broom against the floor, I felt like I was this close to passing out. I pressed my eyes closed against each other as I bent down, struggling to catch my breath. Hot air raced in my lungs and if I didn't catch my breath anytime soon, I would definitely take a quick trip to unconscious land. "Calm down, Florence." I inhaled and exhaled, willing myself to stay on my feet. You couldn't blame me if you looked at it carefully, I'd been on my two feet all morning handling one chore or the other. "You can do this. You just need rest." But would I get it? Hell no. From the looks of things and the workload I had to deal with everyday, it was beginning to look like I was the only one here. The only maid in the entire house. But how could that be? With t