I should have left. They would just say I must have gotten scared and quit. Going during the day was to avoid owners, not meet them. Once they realized something was stolen, they would realize it was me. The Triplets would make the connection between the new girl and the missing bag. Not to mention, he would realize he didn’t hire me.

Watching him talk on his cell phone, in his office, in his big ass mansion, angered me. Instead of helping the homeless he worried about his servants wearing pigtails and sharing the women with his brothers like they were objects.

“Come in,” he ordered without even looking up at me.

I stepped inside, but refused to sit down like Pat had told me to do.

For ten minutes I stood there. Ten minutes. He stayed on the phone discussing some upcoming party. Not once during that time did he look at me. A few times I even stuck out my tongue at him. Still nothing.

“Sit,” he demanded.

I stood.

“Do you need some hair ties?” He swept his hand into his pocket. His shirt exposed more of his sculpted skin.

I sucked in a deep breath. “No.”

“My brother Derek must have hired you as a joke.” He ran his hand through his dark brown hair. “I don’t like defiant.”

“I don’t like being told how to wear my hair and to sit like an animal.” I clenched my teeth, getting this far and being tossed out now would make stealing from this house more difficult.

He walked around his desk and approached me. Inches from me I could smell his citrus cologne. He looked me up and down, stopping at my lips and licking his in turn. A shiver ran up my spine.

“Go clean something.” He waved his hand toward the door, clearly dismissing me.

I turned and that’s when I saw it. A painting of swirls. Blues, yellows and whites danced around. It was of the sky but so much more. Art wasn’t too common on the streets. There were a few guys that would draw your portrait for a few bucks. But color. Color wasn’t easy to get. Paint and brushes were for the Rich. Most paintings I had seen were boring. But this one moved. This one was full of life.

“It’s my favorite,” the asshole said.

I jumped, having forgotten he was there.

“I didn’t think someone like you could appreciate art.” He came to stand next to me.

“We can appreciate it, we just don’t have the money to waste.” I turned to him. “Ya know 'cause we spend our money on food.”

For a brief second the corner of his mouth twitched. “Good point. Most of the Van Goughs were destroyed in a fire. The one is an original and cost a fortune.”

My jaw dropped. This was ‘the painting.’ It had to be. I was so close to it. There was no way I could overpower this man and get behind the painting. Sighing,I realized I would have to come back. Hopefully this asshole didn’t stay in his office all the time.

I spent the next few hours mapping out the mansion. Exits, quick escapes, places where people congregated and where they didn’t. Pat found me inspecting a window down the hall from Mr. Asshole Cartright’s office. I lifted the window a few inches so I could get out fast if needed.

“Sweetie, jumping ship already?” Pat asked.

I grabbed at my chest. I hadn’t even heard him saunter over. “I, um, needed fresh air.”

“What job did Aiden give you?” Pat linked his arm into mine.

“He ordered me to go clean something,” I sighed.

“You got him so frazzled he couldn’t properly assign you. I love it.” Pat fake fanned himself. “Okay Sweetie, let’s give you the grand tour.”

Sixty-three! That’s how many bedrooms there were. Unless you included the servants' wing that bumped the number up to seventy-seven. Only fourteen of the hundred servants actually lived on the property. The rest were still homeless. The Cartrights allowed them to come in early and shower. Gee, how nice.

Along with all the bedrooms there were twenty nine bathrooms, six kitchens, ten living rooms, and other various rooms. Some had purpose, others were empty and useless.

We walked past a door with two deadbolts. According to Pat, The Trips used that as their ‘sharing room.’ He did air quotes on the end part. Unless they invited you, that room was off limits. Even if they begged me, I would never go in there. Never.

On the third floor was the room of all rooms. My mouth dropped as I stared at the biggest library I had ever seen. Floor to ceiling shelves. Multiple ladders stretched along the walls. I read a book once about a girl trapped in a castle. The beast had a library and let her read all day. For a brief moment I wished I was her. The place could have been my castle.