ra

n't s

he mocking drawl of his voice. The storm had finally died down around four in the morning, leaving behind a heavy, suffocating silence. I had

crept through the curtains, I f

and a crisp white blouse. I pulled my damp hair back into a tight ponytail and star

arrogant boy. You are a professional. You are he

rd. Abigail was already at the stove, moving with the brisk efficiency of a woman who had bee

," she said. It w

ding onto one of the high s

front of me. "I'm sorry, dear. I should have warned you m

table," I said, wrapping m

en door s

sed in a simple black T-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders and grey sweatpants

ured himself a cup, and leaned against the counter. He took a slow

he night before. Abigail busied herself with the

trol. I was the caret

ket-the list Mr. Harrington had given me. "You have online meetings with the family business every Tuesday an

ound. He took anoth

said, his

s," I said. "I'm not here to be your e

adable. Then, he laughed. It was a short, harsh, humorless

ward me. He stopped on the other side of the island, his hands resting flat on

n't a

t one lasted a week. The second one lasted three days. The third one... well, she didn't even m

aid, meeting his ga

she can fix the broken boy with a little kindness and a few rules." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But

. "I signed a contract. I

pider than you look,"

alked toward the kitchen door. He

eness. "I wouldn't get too comfortable in that room of yours

ing the door swingi

n't realize I was holdin

vy sigh. "That went b

incredulous. "He j

bacon. "He warned you. There's a difference. He's t

break," I said,

t just sit around and wait for him to make the next move. I had to establish

y rooms. I found the library-a vast, two-story room lined with books that smelled of dust a

tiful, but it w

oor was closed. I paused, my hand hovering over the handle. I sho

ed. No

d the d

ere scattered on the floor. Empty bottles of whi

the floor, his back against the bed, staring at the

ook up when

e said, his

osed the door behind me. "This is una

oking up. His eyes were bloodshot, his

d, my voice firm. "That includes ensuring you don't

the anger flaring in his eyes, the tension in

do," he said, his voice shaking

I shot back, the words leaving m

dangerous smile spread across his face. He slowly pushed himsel

quiet. He walked toward me, his movements slow

re a coward. You hide behind your money and your alcohol and your cruel wor

raised the whiskey bottle, and for a terrifying

a deep, genuine laugh that s

he said, shaking his he

rew the whiskey bottl

ce lighter now. "But don't expect me t

d," I said. "I want a

the arrogant boy returnin

ering the empty bottles. I turned to leave, f

d for the door,

, No

ooking over

he said, his back to me. "I to

. I walked back to my room, the s

d open

ains blowing wildly in the wind. And on the floor, in the

s a note, written in

time, Nora. A lot can

od ran

had been broken. I looked at the note

at the broken window and the threatening not

sure if I was