Page 7 of Broken Prince

Chapter Three

CASSIE

“I’m not sure I like this, Cassie.” Mrs. Broussard leaned forward on her seat and tsked, looking at the austere black metal gate and oversized, moss-covered gray wall.

The estate was so big, we could barely make the dark gothic Victorian manor at the end of the gravel driveway.

It looked just as austere and uninviting as the gate and the man who lived in it.

“It’s okay, it’s only an old man.” I hadn’t told her the whole story, that I didn’t know who my boss was, or that seven women had run—kicking and screaming—from the house.

“You can stay with me longer, you know. There’s no rush,” she insisted.

I couldn’t though. Of course, I couldn't. I couldn't continue being a weight on her and having people treat her poorly just because she was showing me kindness. I also had to move on and do what I could for Jude now before he lost the little innocence he had left.

“I’m good. It is a chance for me.” I hoped my smile looked genuine as I reached for the door handle. “I better ring that bell before it’s too late.”

As soon as I rang the bell, the camera attached to the wall turned to me.

“Yes?”

“I’m Cassie West. I’m here f—”

“Please take your belongings and make your way to the entrance; you will be escorted inside.” The voice was young, sharp, commanding. Not the type of voice I expected for some reason.

I turned toward the car and Mrs. Broussard who was still looking at me curiously. “My friend gave me a lift…” I started.

“Your friend is not allowed on the grounds, only you are. Take your belongings and proceed to the side door.” The command in his voice didn’t leave any room for argument.

“Of course.” I turned to the car with a smile on my face.

I opened the passenger door and leaned in. “I’m going to take my suitcases now and walk there, okay?”

She frowned. “It’s far, Cassie, and your suitcases are not small.”

I sighed. I had to be honest with her. “They’re quite high on security; they don’t want to let you in.”

Her frown deepened. “Why not?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I need this job and if they are tight on security, who can blame them?”

She sighed in surrender. “Promise me to come back if anything happens. I don’t care that you foolishly think you’re a weight for me. You’re not.”

“I promise. I’ll call you.”

I grabbed my two suitcases from the trunk and rolled them to the small side door which opened as soon as I stopped in front of it.

I turned around and waved to Mrs. Broussard before rolling my suitcases on the white pebbles. I was grateful I was wearing flats because the long way and the pebbles getting stuck in the wheels of my suitcases made it so much harder for me to pull them.

By the time I reached the gray stone stairs and black doors, I was a breathless, sweaty mess.

I rang the bell and the door opened immediately by an older man with gray hair with a black suit.

Was he waiting for me behind the door?

“Miss West.” He moved from his spot at the door, inviting me in with a gesture of his hand. “Leave your suitcases in the hall; they will be taken to your room.”

This man sounded quite older than the man who had answered at the gate.

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