Page 55 of Deceitful Oath

I throw my hands up in frustration. “How does that make sense?”

“I can’t believe he slapped you!” she says at the same time and we both pause, staring at each other.

“Whatever, just watch out for him,” I say, exhausted by the conversation already. I slouch into the couch, daring it to swallow me whole and put me out of my misery. “He’s not as harmless as he seems.”

“I’m going to give him a piece of my mind,” she snaps, defiance written across her face like war paint.

“Nope,” I reach over and pat her thigh. “I’d like you to keepyourjob so that I can crash on your couch, please.”

She scoffs but drops the subject. “Okay, I should get ready for work. What are you going to do tonight?”

“Find a damn job,” I wail, hiding my face in the pillows. She pats my back gingerly and heads to her bedroom.

“There’s a computer in the common area if you need it,” she says before shutting the door.

Right, the common area. You mean the very old-fashioned family living room of this creepy mansion?

***

An hour later, I’m curled into a ball on the sofa in the “common room” clutching the laptop. People keep wandering in and giving me strange looks.

At first, I waved and said hello, but apparently, community living has nothing to do with friendliness.

After being routinely ignored by everyone, I’ve given up. I turn my attention back to the screen, scrolling through job listings.

Looking For: Personal Assistant to Tech Guru

20 hours per week. Flexible schedule. Light admin work and file management required. Female preferred.

Interesting. That doesn’t sound too bad.

After getting fired from all three of my jobs, something less customer-facing sounded nice. I click on the link and nearly choke on my own saliva. The salary is more than I could have ever dreamed of making—even with three jobs.

And benefits? My eyes widen as I read through the list: dental, health, gym membership, relocation costs. I nearly close all my tabs in my haste to click on the application button. It takes me to my email box and I check out the address.

Okay, Enzo Riviera, I’ll be your personal assistant.

I quickly whip up a new resume, including a few little white lies, and type out a friendly email. After that, I browse the wanted ads a bit more, but nothing catches my attention. It’s hard to compete with a legitimate salary and full benefits, I guess.

Needing to stretch my legs a bit, I log out and leave the laptop where I found it. I spin around the room, trying to decide where to explore first.

A giant flat-screen TV mounted above an ornate fireplace plays some football game on mute. Velvet couches circle the TV area, a low antique-looking coffee table between them. At the rear of the room, I pass a few desks and stacked bookshelves.

With the staircase back to Lisa’s room on my right, a mystery door beckons me to my left. I walk over and knock softly, not knowing whether this is someone’s personal space.

When all I hear is silence, I push it open. It leads to a small but neatly arranged mudroom. I step down, peeking through the glass pane in front of me.

A garden! How beautiful!

Lisa’s room happens to look out onto the parking lot, so this is a nice surprise. I step into the crisp evening air and the scent of roses surrounds me. I breathe in deeply, savoring the sweet scent.

My nose leads me down a path that turns into a perfectly manicured English rose garden. I take a seat on a stone bench and let my eyes roam.This would be an amazing place to sit and paint all day,I think wistfully.

My phone rings, and I pull it out, squinting at the cracked screen.Private number.My heart skips a beat—maybe it’s Dominic, trying to be covert?

“Hello?” I answer, my voice sounding a little too breathless and excited.

“Uh, hey,” an unfamiliar male voice greets me. “Is this…Lux Davis?”

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