Chapter 5

(IVY POV)

I stood there, feeling like I’d been dropped into a scene from a movie I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of. 

The Boss’s estate was even more intimidating in person than I had imagined. 

Everything about the place screamed power and wealth.

The old barrister we met, with his polished demeanor and calm voice, spoke up, snapping me back to reality. 

"Miss Joan Walters," he introduced me, as if that was really my name, as if I belonged here. 

"This is the young lady I mentioned, Adrian. She's… a distant relative."

I shifted uneasily, trying not to meet the eyes of the man standing next to us in a towel, Caleb’s boss. Adrian Blackwood.

 He turned to face me, and I felt like I’d been caught in a spotlight. He was really tall, his presence commanding the room in a way that made me feel even smaller than I already did.

 His eyes sharp, dark, and unsettling seemed to strip away any pretense, leaving me exposed, his chest was hairy..

"Joan Walters, you say?" His voice was smooth but carried a weight that made me shiver.

 I nodded, my throat tight.

 "And you’re here to work as a cleaner?" There was disbelief in his tone, almost as if the idea was laughable.

"Yes, sir," I managed to say, but my voice didn’t sound like my own. It was as if someone else was speaking through me, someone who knew exactly what to say to stay out of trouble.

The boss studied me for what felt like an eternity, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to piece together a puzzle.

 "And why would a beautiful woman like you choose a job like this?"

My mind raced, searching for the right words. I was suddenly very aware of how everyone was watching me Caleb, The barrister , even the boss Adrian, all waiting for my answer. 

"Being in the service of the Blackwoods… it’s more prestigious than many white collar jobs." 

I heard myself say it, surprised at how composed it sounded.

Adrian chuckled, a low, amused sound that seemed to fill the room. 

“Hmm Intelligent too. I like that." His smile was warm, but his eyes they still held that cold, calculating look that made me uneasy. 

I felt Caleb’s eyes on me, as if warning me to stick to the story, to not slip up. But there was something else there too something in the way Adrian looked at me that set off alarm bells in my head. He wasn’t just curious; he was interested, and that made me nervous.

"You don’t need to be nervous, Miss Walters," Adrian said, his voice softer now. 

"You’ll find that I’m not as intimidating as the rest of the world might think."

I forced a smile, trying to ignore the way my heart was pounding in my chest. Was that supposed to be reassuring? I wasn’t sure. He didn’t look like the monster I had been led to expect he was too polished, too… human. And that confused me even more.

As we stood there, I could feel my thoughts spinning out of control. Why were they lying to him? Why had Caleb threatened me back in the car, telling me to comply or cease to exist? And why did this man, who was supposed to be so powerful and dangerous, look at me like he was trying to figure me out?

The barrister’s voice brought me back to the present, his words a blur as he made more introductions. I nodded and smiled at the appropriate moments, but my mind was elsewhere. There was something off about all of this, something that didn’t add up.

And as Adrian continued to watch me, I knew one thing for sure: whatever game they were playing, I was right in the middle of it, whether I liked it or not.

The introductions faded into the background as Mrs. Hawkins, a meek-looking woman with gray-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun, took me on a tour of the mansion. The others had dispersed, leaving just the two of us. Mrs. Hawkins seemed pleasant enough, with a gentle smile that never quite reached her eyes.

"The Blackwood estate is quite large," she explained, leading me down a long corridor. The polished wood floors reflected the dim lighting, and the walls were adorned with portraits of stern-looking men and women, their eyes following us as we walked by. "But you’ll get used to it quickly."

We passed several rooms sitting rooms, dining halls, and a library that seemed to stretch on forever. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but I kept my expression neutral, nodding as she pointed things out.

"We used to have a larger staff," Mrs. Hawkins continued, her voice dropping to a more conspiratorial tone. "But after the plane crash… well, most of them were let go." She sighed, shaking her head. "Only a few of us remain now."

The mention of the crash caught my attention. I knew about it, of course who didn’t? It was a tragedy that had made headlines for weeks. Adrian’s parents had died, leaving him and his grandfather as the sole survivors. And now, with his grandfather gone, Adrian was the last of the Blackwoods.

Mrs. Hawkins led me to the kitchen, where the other maids were busy with their tasks. She introduced me to each of them: Grace, the young, bubbly one who seemed to lighten the room with her presence; Martha, older and gruffer, but with a heart of gold; and two others, Jane and Alice, who gave me polite smiles but quickly returned to their work.

"Welcome to the family," Grace said cheerfully, giving me a quick hug that took me by surprise. 

"Thank you," I mumbled, still trying to process everything. The warmth they showed me felt genuine, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air. The same tension I’d felt since I arrived.

Mrs. Hawkins continued the tour, leading me upstairs to the servants' quarters. As we walked, she kept up a steady stream of chatter about the estate, the routines, and what was expected of me. I listened, but my mind kept wandering back to Adrian and the lies surrounding my presence here.

We eventually reached a grand hallway lined with more portraits. This time, they were family photos Adrian as a child, his parents, and then one that caught my attention. It was of his grandfather, dressed in a formal suit, with a cross prominently displayed on his chest, like a knight from another era. Something about the image struck me deeply. There was a familiarity to it that I couldn’t quite place.

“Where had I seen this man before?”