The hallway upstairs was long and lavish, yet unwelcoming. She stopped in front of the third door and slowly opened it. Her eyes widened. Saying the room was a total mess was an understatement. It was a disaster zone. Drawers had been pulled from their places, the cream-colored curtains were stained, broken glass glittered on the floor, and clothes littered everywhere, as well as junk wrappers and leftovers.

Chloe pressed a hand to her chest. How can someone live like this? she thought.

"Oh my God. Is she such a slob, so spoiled she can't even clean up after herself?" She stepped in and shut the door.

"What do you think?"

She gasped in shock as she turned and saw Jordan standing in front of the bathroom staring at her. He leaned against the wall with arms folded across his chest.

Chloe felt tongue tied for a moment. What was he doing here? She felt flustered. She was certainly not in the wrong room? Or was she?

"No, I mean... I don't mean..." she stuttered, unsure what to say.

"Do you stammer?" His voice was calm, as he arched a brow at her, but it carried an edge she could not ignore.

"I... I just..." Chloe looked at the floor, trying to find her words. None came.

"Never mind. Go on with your work." His eyes lingered as he assessed her. Chloe swallowed hard, aware of his gaze following her every movement. He did not change his position. He just stood there. Would he really stand there watching her work?

She could feel his eyes on her. It felt intense.

Chloe bent to pick up the first pile of dirty jeans and undergarments, carefully folding them. The task steadied her for a moment, but Jordan's gaze remained on her, observant and testing.

"Where are you from?" he asked suddenly, in a casual, yet compelling tone.

"Nebraska," she mouthed in a low voice.

"Nebraska? All the way here?" He sounded intrigued, almost amused.

"No... I am staying with an aunt in Alamosa. It is about a four or five-hour drive from here," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

He nodded slowly, stepping slightly closer. "And you will be passing the week here?"

Chloe's stomach knotted. "I... haven't discussed it with your... my... boss yet."

"How old are you?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"I will be twenty in a couple of months."

He regarded her for a moment, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Good. You are not a child then. That matters here."

Chloe went still, feeling the weight of his gaze. Not a child... His tone carried a sort of subtle warning. Everything about him suggested that in this house, age and experience meant nothing, only awareness of danger mattered.

"Go on with your work," he said, stepping back.

Chloe let out a quiet breath she had not realized she was holding. Her hands shook slightly as she resumed folding clothes, glancing occasionally at the chaos around her.

I have to survive this... Chloe thought. One step at a time.

After what felt like an eternity, she had organized the piles into neat stacks. Her bag was carefully placed in a corner, and she had a sense of fleeting accomplishment. That was when she heard footsteps approaching. Lily and another girl, Tasha, entered, chatting and laughing as though Chloe weren't there. Their attention was on their reflections, their selfies, their own world.

Lily's sharp eyes caught hers. "What are you still doing here? Like you're gonna spend the whole day working in my room which isn't so much work by the way. Please take your filthy self out." she said impatiently.

Chloe backed away, feeling annoyed, though she couldn't show it.

"Where is my bracelet and earrings?" Lily demanded, suddenly shifting focus to some missing accessories.

Chloe opened her mouth to answer, but Lily interrupted.

"Never mind, just get out," she snapped, snatching up a clean cloth and wiping a smudge off her face.

Chloe picked up her bag and stepped outside, shutting the door gently. She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, hugging her knee against her chest and tried to think. Could she really work here?

"What do you think you're doing?", came Lina's plummy voice.

Chloe jumped to her feet.

"Your room is the first door to the left, down at the staff quarters," Lina continued. "Twenty bucks per hour. Mondays to Fridays. You work six hours on Saturday and go home for the weekend. Am I clear?" she held her ear for emphasis.

"Uhn? Yes ma'am." Chloe responded.

"Are you crying? What are you doing?" Lina queried in a harsh manner, ignoring her countenance.

Chloe quickly rose and smoothened her long checked gown unnecessarily. "I was...I only wanted to..."

Lina did not let her finish. "After cleaning, head down to the kitchen. Theresa is the chef, she will hand you your uniform. We have standards here. And don't think this is the only thing you will do today." She walked away toward another door, but paused, glancing back. "Congratulations on your new job." She said flatly, almost perfunctorily.

Chloe blinked, momentarily stunned. Deep down she was really glad she had gotten the job and with an accommodation at that. The other troubles can come later. "First door to the left." she murmured as she heaved her bag along.

Chloe hurried up, dropped her bag and went to the kitchen where the chef, Theresa, waited, her face neutral, hands on her hips.

"That, is your uniform," Theresa said, pointing to a neatly folded pinafore and white shirt. "You will change and then start on the laundry. There is a dry cleaner that comes occasionally for the occasional wears so you will have to handle just these regular casuals. Be careful. This house has rules."

Chloe nodded, grateful for some guidance. "Yes, ma'am," she said softly.

Theresa studied her briefly and went off to the pantry.

Alone in the kitchen, Chloe allowed herself a small exhale. She picked up the uniform and changed quickly. She could feel the weight of the house pressing on her, but she also felt something else: a small, stubborn spark of resolve.

Chloe gathered the clothes Theresa had instructed her to handle, her hands trembling slightly as she approached the laundry room. The towering piles of garments, some fresh from the dryer yet still requiring pressing, seemed overwhelming. A sharp pang of hunger gnawed at her stomach, and she squatted against the wall, pressing her hand over her abdomen.

"God I am so hungry..." she murmured, her voice barely audible.

"Hey."

The single word made her jerk upright. Jordan stood in the doorway, relaxed but impossible to ignore. There was a quiet pull to him, and the calm, teasing way he spoke made her catch her breath.

He held out a small package of sourdough bread and a medium pack of yogurt. "Have this."

Chloe blinked, surprised. For a fleeting moment, she forgot the oppressive weight of the mansion and the exhausting day.

She hesitated, unsure if she should feel grateful or flustered, then she allowed a small smile to spread across her face.

"Why are you blushing?" he asked, startling her.

"I am not blushing. I am just... smiling," she said quietly, wishing her face would stop betraying her.

"Well, your smile is blushing," he countered with a smirk.

"You are... silly," she muttered, cheeks warming.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "What did you say?"

"I said... thank you," she whispered, unsure why her chest tightened at his nearness.

"No. You said something else."

Chloe could not reply as they heard the sound.of approaching feet.

Before she could react, Jordan scooped up the snacks and, almost impossibly, dove into the broken industrial washing machine, disappearing behind its metallic bulk. Chloe quickly draped a bedsheet over it. Not sure why she did that.

Theresa appeared with another basket of laundry, heavy and brimming with expensive fabrics. "These belong to Mister Cavanaugh. I expect you to know that not everything goes in the machine. Handle carefully."

Then she added in a warning tone, "In fact, be very careful with everything you do here. Perhaps I should let you know, Lily could be a storm to handle sometimes. Jordan can be super sly and super devilish, like a ... puzzle. So beware. Their mother is, calculative. Observe and learn quickly. You will need it." She left as abruptly as she came, leaving Chloe breathless and a little more aware of the house's unspoken rules.

Jordan emerged from the shadows a moment later, carrying her untouched snack.

She stared at him; Super sly and super devilish. Plus, super handsome.

His grin was infuriatingly confident. "Yeah, I'm a super guy. And none of Theresa's warnings are the whole truth."

He handed her the meal. Chloe could not say no.

He yawned and stretched. "You are lucky I will be free for the rest of the evening, so l will help you iron this batch." He pointed to a heap by the corner.

Chloe felt herself drawn to him, she wanted to step back in caution but fascination rooted her to the spot.

"You want to help me?" She wasn't sure she had heard him right.

"Yup. Don't I look like a nice guy?" He opened a cabinet and selected an iron, then plucked a long, exquisite gown from a pile.

"So...you grew up in Nebraska?" he asked casually as he plugged in the iron.

"Yes," she answered, not sure why her heart was racing.

"Where? Countryside?" he pressed, his eyes scanning her features as if reading a secret.

"Why do you think so?" she asked, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. He had probably gone through her papers already.

He exhaled slowly, stretching the gown across the board. "You look... There's a groundedness about you. Different from the city air here."

Chloe almost dropped her bread. "Is that a compliment? Or you're being sarcastic?"

Mischief danced briefly in his eyes. "You can decide."

She finished her snack hastily, focusing on the laundry to steady her racing heart.

"Warning," he said suddenly, gesturing to another iron. "Do not make use of this one I am holding. It is quite faulty. You can make use of that green one instead."

Chloe gasped at the big triangular hole in Lily's dress just after the smell of something burning got to her nose.

"Oh my God, Mister Cavanaugh!" her trembling hands threw themselves across her mouth.

"What? Never seen a burnt gown? Tell whoever asks, that you used a faulty iron, cos you didn't know. And consider this, a lesson... and a gift," he said with an air of nonchalance.

"Think of it as a... uhm, payback. For calling Lily spoiled, and for enjoying your meal without owing me." He added.

"I don't understand you," she murmured, her voice breaking.

"Neither do I," he admitted, shrugging, eyes softening for the briefest instant. "But I have always wanted to see this gown like this. It is prettier now. By the way, it is, Jordan. Without the Mister bla bla." He winked and stepped back, leaving her to absorb the complexity of his presence.

The thought of twenty dollars an hour echoed in her mind, a faint comfort against the dizzying uncertainty of the house.

Chloe assisted Theresa in serving dinner later that evening. The overpowering aroma of the meal called out to her being and her mouth ached to have a taste so badly, even if it was just a spoon and a bite of chicken.

She set the bowl of chicken down and turned away quietly.

Jordan cleared his throat.

Chloe would learn later that this was never a good sign.

"Theresa," he said coolly, "why didn't you show Chloe the grey iron, since the red one is faulty? A beautiful dress didn't have to be ruined."

The room went still.

Theresa paused with the wine glasses in her hands. "What?" She lowered them carefully, confusion written on her face.

Lily arched a perfectly carved brow. Lina kept her gaze on her plate, as though nothing had been said.

"What dress?" Lily asked. "What are you talking about, Jordan? And how would you know?"

Chloe froze halfway to the kitchen.

"If she had been properly informed," Jordan continued calmly, "she would not have used the damaged iron. The accident was avoidable."

Theresa was momentarily dazed. "I did tell her. I showed her everything. I specifically warned her..."

"Whose dress?" Lily interrupted.

"You did not, Theresa" Jordan said firmly. "I was there when you came into the laundry room. You didn't see me because I stepped out onto the balcony."

Lily's fingers curled against the table. "Whose. Dress?"

"You educated her," Jordan went on, unbothered, "on how Lily could be a thorn in the flesh or something like that, and how I am supposedly some kind of superman."

"That is not true. Ask her," Theresa said quickly.

"Whose dress?!" Lily slammed her palm against the table.

Jordan counted silently. Three. Third time asking.

"Yours," he said. "The one Dad ordered from France last week. Why was it at the laundry by the way?"

Time paused.

Lily's chair screeched as she shoved it back and bolted from the room.

"Did you actually call my daughter names?" Lina asked after a moment's silence.

"Ma'am, to be sincere, I don't know what Mister Cavanaugh is talking about. I told Chloe about the iron before I left her to do the laundry."

Chloe stopped breathing. Theresa had told her nothing. "No, you didn't." She said softly, the words slipping out before fear could stop them.

"Shut up!" Lina yelled and hurled an empty wine glass at Chloe who dodged instinctively as it shattered against the wall. "Believe me young lady, if this is true, there will be no salary for you till I make sure you have made a full payment for it. I can promise you that."

"Theresa," Jordan said mildly, tearing into his roulade, "you just called me a liar, few seconds ago."

Theresa shook her head, mouthing a silent no, her face pale.

Lily stormed back in moments later, the gown clutched in her hands. She wiped it violently across Theresa's face, knocking her off balance, then lunged for Chloe, grabbing her collar and slamming her back into the wall.

Jordan caught Lily's wrist in the air.

"Don't be an animal," he said calmly. "She couldn't have known."

"She is the animal!" Lily screamed. "That dress was for my prom. Limited edition. You know what it costs!"

"Your food is getting cold, sweetheart," Lina said, standing. "Let's eat first and deal with this later."

"Trash it. I'm done!" Lily sobbed, fleeing upstairs with the ruined gown.

Lina went after her daughter.

Chloe retreated into the kitchen. To her surprise, no tears came. Hunger dulled everything, the humiliation, the pain, even fear. The scent of food clung stubbornly to her thoughts.

Theresa entered some minutes later. "Do you need a formal announcement to clean that mess?" she snapped, gesturing at the broken glass.

"You told Jordan what I said," she accused.

"No," Chloe shook her head frantically. "I didn't."

"Then how did he know?"

"He..." Chloe stared at the floor, words failing her.

Theresa said nothing else and stormed out.

Chloe returned to the dining room with a broom and dustpan. Jordan sat alone now, unhurried, finishing his meal.

After clearing the shards, she met Theresa getting ready to leave the house.

"Clear the table and throw the rest out."

Chloe stared. "Ma'am?"

"Throw it away. They don't eat leftovers."

The food could have fed her family for days and she was just asked to dispose it knowing how hungry she was. Or was that a way of indirectly asking her to take it?

"Only the leftovers," Theresa amended, grabbing her bag.

Chloe said nothing more and went ahead to clear the table. She paused and observed the delicate cutlery and the stylish way in which Theresa had set out the meal. The thought of taking some to her family made her mouth water. She smiled and brought out her phone from her pocket. She could take a nice picture of the pretty meal. As her thumb hovered over the camera icon, she felt someone behind her. Her heart beating fast, she turned around slowly...

Lina Cavanaugh stood a few feet behind her, hands on her hips. The whites of her eyes were almost invisible, narrowed into slits, yet the glare was so intense it seemed to pierce right through Chloe.

Chloe's shoulders dropped.

"You are barely a day old here and you have already made such a mess," Lina spat, her tone filled with disdain. She waved a cream colored slip of paper in Chloe's face. "I don't have much to say to you. You're fired. That's the cost of the dress you ruined. You have one month to pay up."

With trembling hands, Chloe collected the bill. Her eyes fell on the figures printed on the page and her heart plummeted. Colour drained from her face. Her knees buckled beneath her, giving way as she crumpled to the floor, the paper clutched tightly in her hands.

She stared at it for what felt like forever. She had never seen, let alone owned, that kind of money in her entire life and now, just like that, she was in debt of such an amount.

Slowly, she broke into a laugh, she paused and laughed louder. Then she cried. Tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shook.

It was insane. She had come here to earn money to support her family, but ended up earning a huge debt. She paused and sniffed. Suddenly having a rethink. How was she even at fault? She was not the one who made the mess. She had not even touched that dress.

When she looked up, Lina was gone. But Jordan stood there, watching her with a curious, almost amused expression.

"That is... weird," he muttered, head tilted. "You are weird. What's with the laughing and crying? Just pick one." He gave a sharp snort.

Chloe had not even realize she was glowering at him until she caught the weight of his gaze. The nemesis of her problem, looking so good in his plain white T-shirt and Jimi jacket. The subtle scent of his cologne drifted through the air, masculine and expensive.

When she did not reply, he shrugged casually. "Alright then. You can have the whole ground to yourself." He strolled off, leaving her in silence.

Chloe watched him till he was out of the door. Then she sighed, gathering herself up from the floor. She returned to clearing up the dishes. It was getting quite late, and she still had to make it back to Alamosa tonight.