The Billionaire's Mask (A Dark Steamy Romance)

ALAYNA“You must never enter Master Brandon’s bedroom or his study. He’s not a very patient man. He allows no one in his room. You can do whatever you want in the house but never go inside his private space unless you are permitted to do so. Do you understand?” Ms. Lennie warns. It is clear in her pale cerulean eyes how serious she is.The head housemaid's hair is ash-colored and seems as if it has been tied in a bun forever. She has a strong countenance and is about five-foot-five. If I had to guess, I’d say she is in her late fifties.“I understand.” I gulp and nod.I always do research before job interviews, so I know a little about the ‘Master.’ He’s twenty-eight, a self-made billionaire, and the sole owner and chairman of Grethe and Elga Enterprises, a telecommunications and electronic consumer company headquartered in Manhattan.But his family background, where he graduated, and his face are all a mystery. No single soul has seen him in person. He never shows up anywhere public

I woke up earlier than my alarm this morning. Heck, I barely even slept, with all these inexplicable emotions churning inside me.Nonetheless, I can’t decide if I’m excited or just nervous because I’m sure that work won’t be easy for the next twelve months. I lazily swing my legs out of the bed and step into the bathroom.After a shower, I put on a regular white chef’s uniform and fix my hair. I hurry to the kitchen and arrive a few minutes earlier than Mr. Katrakis. I’m thankful for this, remembering Ms. Lennie’s rules about being on time.“Good morning, Alayna.” He immediately puts on an apron when he walks in. “Are you ready?”“Good morning, sir. Yes, I’m ready!” I reply heartily.He draws out a sheet of paper from the wall and hands it to me. It’s a copy of the meal schedule and the list of dishes he spoke about yesterday. It says breakfast is at seven, noon for lunch, and seven for dinner. Today is Tuesday, so for breakfast, Elipsiomo bread and Kagianas—a scrambled egg dish with

CHAPTER 5Five days later, Oliver still isn’t working in the kitchen, though I’m pretty much enjoying my job as the days go by.Ever since I started writing notes to the elusive Brandon Lucien, I’m beginning to feel his presence—like I’m actually cooking for a person. He isn’t so invisible anymore. He’s actually, and peculiarly, responding to my notes.For today’s lunch, I heartily make him a marinated and smoked chicken with tzatziki sauce. This time, I make him brownies for dessert.I write him a note again.“Try the food with a glass of champagne. It tastes better.”Ms. Lennie doesn’t seem to mind me anymore, but she always tastes the food before serving it to our boss. As usual, I never expect a reaction from her. When she returns, I find another note from him, and this time he provides a note clipper.However, the brownie box went back untouched.I read his note.You’re right. A glass of champagne does make it taste better. But weren’t you told not to improvise? I don’t eat brown

Is he going to fire me over some information? I couldn’t lose this job. I have debts, and I have no place to stay in this foreign city. I can’t just go back home, bringing nothing but failure to my family. Well, of course, I still need money, but this job was way more ethical than receiving unlabored cash.“Wait...” I give up. He’s firing me anyway, so why not talk back? “First of all, you signed me up to a one-year contract. You can’t just fire people just because you want to. That’s against the law. My job description is an assistant chef, and what you are asking now isn’t written in the contract. Second, what you are asking for is very private. I can’t just give such information away to strangers, especially to a stranger like you. Why do you want it anyway? I at least want an explanation. Lastly, in all honesty, I can’t trust someone who would speak with me this way. I can’t even see you.”“I hired you, Miss Hart. What makes you think I don’t have the right to fire you? And in all

I can see half of his face through a shaft of light that slips from somewhere in the room. I want to step back, but I’m pinned to the wall with his hands on my wrist, pushing me a little harder. His breathing rapid, his chiseled mouth almost touching mine. A familiar smell of aftershave tickles my nose.“Alayna Hart!”“Oh God—” I look around me as the sharp sound of bells ring.Ms. Lennie glares at me. She is holding a small bell, enough to wake a girl who had an intimidating dream. Next to her are two maids who look precisely alike, and they are staring at me. Obviously, they are trying their hardest not to laugh. Their small, marble eyes betray their fake expressionless look. I feel my face burning with shame.What are they doing here?“The Master will see you in ten minutes. He expects you to be early,” Ms. Lennie says.“What? He’s—he’s what? Why?” I ask in a panic. “What did I do wrong now?”“For your information, young lady, you forced the Master hand with your conditions. I want