Who owns this place

All my reservations were tampered by the thought of the opportunity before me. Ten a month. My mood had lightened by the time I reached my apartment. I could feel a lightness start to creep its way around my shoulders. I've gained my footing once again.

And this time I'd make sure no one dared to pull the rug from underneath me.

I can barely contain the tremor of excitement trembling my hands when I fit the key in. The door comes open with a click. "Tina! I'm home!"

Kicking the door shut behind me, I lobby the mountain of items I'd bought from the store, feeling no guilt from the fact I'd splurged. I'm about to be rich!

"Tina!" I call again, but a disgruntled meow reaches me. I turn around. "Fuzkins!"

Her muscles tense when I bundle forward, scooping her up. Her hackles rise and she releases a loud hiss but I crush her to my chest, spinning. "Mi linda!"

I settle her down on my pile of grocery treasure, ruffling through a bag to retrieve expensive cat food. "Look what I got! Yes, mija, you're off the scrapes now and you're going to eat like a queen from now on--because mummy is about to be--" A groan from above cuts me off.

"What's all the ruckus?" Tina asks, fighting off a yawn as she heads down creaking stairs.

"I got a new job."

She doesn't break her stride, heading into the kitchen. Opening cabinets, she asks noncommittally, "That's wonderful, baby. Which restaurant?" She withdraws some cereal and starts to head into the dinning area. She pauses on seeing all the stuff on the table.

"Not a restaurant," I say quietly, a smile in my voice. "I'm going to be working for some hotshot billionaire for ten grand a month."

A stretch of silence, before Tina throws the cereal away with a loud scream.

I laugh, stepping into her arms when she reaches out for a hug. We clutch at each other, screaming our happiness for what seems like an eternity while jumping around--until there's loud banging on the door.

We disentangle immediately. Tina exchanges a tense look with me before going to answer. The voice of the newcomer lets me know it's our landlord.

"...just yesterday I received a complaint that one of you was banging on the floor and disturbing the entire building. You work in a f*cking strip club and god knows where your friend gets her money from. You're both of questionable characters and I don't normally extend my tenancy to your kind. Don't make me regret my kindness."

I roll my eyes. Like he didn't 'extend his tenancy' to crackheads and junkies. It's just Tina wouldn't climb into his bed for lesser rent like other women in the apartment.

Tina's voice is a bored, seductive drawl, "We are so sorry, honey. It won't happen again, promise."

He clears his throat before speaking, sounding flustered. "See that it won't." I hear his footsteps receed.

Tina closes the door behind her, coming in.

We both say, "Asshole."

She chuckles. Drawing level, her eyes gleam in excitement and she pulls me down to sit. "How did this happen?"

"I went shopping for groceries and the next thing, this old lady comes up to me and says she's in need of an apprentice." With a trickle of guilt, I leave out the fact she thought I was a survivor.

"That's so--and right after Matthew made with your f*cking money." She sounds awed.

"I can't believe it either."

"Well," she prompts, "Who's the man you're working for?"

"I don't know, someone named Marcus Blackwood."

She lets out a breath in awe. "Sounds hot."

I laugh. "Can't lie, I can't wait to meet him." I fish out something from my bra. "She gave me this card, said I'm going to be a live in too."

Tina grabs it, examining the card intently. She bends it this way and that. "I don't know this neighborhood."

"Me too. But she told me she'll be sending someone to pick me up."

Tina's eyes shift to mine. A look of seriousness falls on her face. "F*ck."

"I know."

"You're going to have to sleep with him."

"I...am?"

"Think about it. Suing Mathew, getting a new life, destroying his evidence. We're talking big money. Money ten grand a month can't cover."

Her words start to pierce through me. Doubts spring up. "But I don't want to mess this up. My only backing is the old lady and I'm not sure the man's going to like me."

She scoffs, giving me a slow run down. "What's not to like? You're hot as f*ck."

"Thanks, but I'm not everyone's cup of tea."

She shrugs. With a secretive smile, she says, "You know what they say. Birds of a feather..."

Knowing where she's going, I finish with an answering smile, "Flock together."

"Exactly," she whispers with a smile, "You might not be his cup of tea, but he's going to have friends. Billoniare hotshots who won't mind f*cking a hot piece. Remember what I taught you about wringing a man for his money?"

I repeat her words with a laugh, "Don't give it up until he's ready to throw the check down?"

She claps, giddy. "Exactly. They won't know what hit them!"

She doesn't go to the club later that night, choosing instead to stay with me to pack.

When I lay down to sleep, I consider her words. Could I sleep with a man for money? I mean, I am no prude but I always thought my first time would be with someone I liked--or found hot. I don't know what Marcus Blackwood looks like. He could be old, or balding, or old and balding.

Unsettled, I drift into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, we cram into the living room, bags packed.

We sit on the ratty sofa, my phone held up in the space between us. The old lady, whose name I found out to be Sally, had called earlier, informing me the driver had just left the estate. It's been thirty minutes and we're expecting her call any minute. When Tina sighs suddenly, I look at her.

"It just hit me."

"What?" I ask.

"You're leaving."

A pang goes off in my chest. I reach forward to grab her hand. "Hey. I'm sure I get the weekends off. I'm always going to come back and visit. If anything to cook for your ass because you're too lazy to do it."

She cracks a smile, it's sad. "I'm so going to miss your cooking."

"You can always find it at the nearest Mexican restaurant."

She laughs but the sound is drowned out by the loud ringing that cuts through the room. We both look down at my phone. With a pause, I answer it. The person on the other end says a few words before hanging up. Tina lifts a questioning brow.

"The driver," I say. "He's here."

I kiss Fuzkins a last time before lodging my bags across the living room to her startled hiss. Tina brings the rear, carrying my remaining things. On the ground floor, we see the landlord at the awning. He's looking at us with unconcealed suspicion. I almost give him my middle finger but stifle the impulse. While I'm leaving this godforsaken place for who knows how long, Tina's still going to be here. So it's with a lot of irritation I give him a nod of acknowledgement. A sneer curls his upper lip, crinkling his large nose.

Right back at you, squidward.

I can't hide my surprise when I see a sleek Porsche parked out front. I could almost forgive my landlord's suspiciousness. I mean, to go from tagging cheap Ubers to a freaking sports car!? I kill the urge to whistle my appreciation.

I and Tina exchange a final hug. Grabbing my things, I head over to the car. When the driver comes out, I startle at his sheer physique. He's a massive brute. Ignoring me completely, he takes my things and swing them into the boot. He's dressed in a classic suit and shades, with an earpiece sticking out from his right ear. Dios mio. Have I mistakenly stumbled into a James Bond movie?

The slamming of his door snaps me out of my silly thought and I go in after him, settling into the passenger seat. The windows wind up, air conditioning on full blast. My lips purse, the feeling of nausea already rearing its head.

I and Tina continue to wave at each other until we're both out of view. I suck in a breath, bringing my attention back ahead. We break into the highway, soon edging into an intersection. All through it, the car ride is silent.

Never being able to survive silence, I clear my throat. "So. What's your name?"

The man looks at me, almost in surprise, like he'd forgotten I'm even there. His expression hardens once more and he faces ahead, remaining silent.

I take in his gleaming head. "Alright. That's how you're going to be, huh. If you don't tell me your name, I'm going to start calling you Baldie."

Silence.

"Baldi--"

"Cyrus," he says in a thick accent.

"Are you by any chance related to Sirius Black?"

When his jaw buldges, I realize he's gritting his teeth. He surprises me by replying, "No. I am not."

I double over on a laugh, slapping my knees like it's the funniest thing I've heard all week. Which, in reality, it is.

Glad I'd broken the ice, I allow the ride to continue in silence, giving Cyrus his peace.

An eternity passes before we wind into a narrow trail. I sit up. We break into a gated property. It is pulled open by some towering men. When we roll in, I realize in awe the property is massive, the estate stretching on for miles. My wide eyes take in bubbling fountains and well tended gardens. When I spot a group of swans, I grapple for my phone, needing Tina to see this. But just as I've positioned my camera, the phone is snatched out of my hands.

I raise a brow at Cyrus. "Hey, give it back. It's not a wand."

He doesn't find it funny. When he crowds into me a little, I back up, feeling the atmosphere drop by several degrees.

He spells slowly, "No pictures on Mr Blackwood's properties. It's in the NDA you're going to sign. Do you understand?"

I nod, unable to get my tongue to work.

He hands me back my phone and we continue onwards.

My breath slows to a stop when we ride past one of the largest mansions I've ever seen in my life. At the sight of a garage parked to the full with designer cars and expensive trucks, I feel my entire world rock off its axis.

Who the hell owns this place?