Elvie
I barely slept more than an hour the entire night. Was it the raw, suffocating heartbreak? The sheer nervousness? Or a breathless flutter of anticipation?
I held my breath as my fingers clicked the trackpad to wake the screen. The inbox refreshed, and the black words glowing against the bright screen, completely real. It wasn’t a hallucination last night. I was actually accepted.
Your application has been reviewed and accepted for an immediate working trial. Report to Ridgeview Villa today at 5:00 PMprompt. Punctuality is non-negotiable.
Stipend: $1,200 weekly (Room and board included).
Twelve hundred dollars a week. The original listing had stated half that amount. Why had they doubled it? Was it a mistake, or did they urgently need someone that badly?
Either way, a massive, overwhelming wave of relief broke through the numbness in my chest. Twelve hundred dollars wasn’t just pocket money it was freedom. It meant I wouldn’t have to scramble for food, beg for charity, or depend on anyone else ever again.
A gentle knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts. "Elvie, sweetheart? Are you awake?"
"Come in," I called out softly. The door creaked open, and Mrs. Eleanor stepped into the room holding a neatly folded stack of clothes.
"Good Morning, Mrs.Eleanor." I said getting up to my feet.
"Good Morning Elvie. These used to belong to my daughter when she was in college, but they should fit you nicely."
She handed me the soft, cream cable-knit sweater and a pair of dark, tailored trousers.
A lump formed in my throat. In less than twenty-four hours, this kind woman had shown me more genuine warmth and maternal care than Asher’s family had offered in all the years I lived under their roof.
"Mrs. Eleanor... you didn’t have to do this," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
"I... I can hardly believe it," I said, a wide, genuine smile breaking across my face for the first time since yesterday. "I actually got a job. A live-in position at a private villa outside town. They want me to start today at five."
Mrs. Eleanor’s face lit up with pure delight. "Oh, sweetheart! That is wonderful! Look at you, picking yourself right back up. You deserve every good thing coming your way, Elvie,"
Mrs. Eleanor beamed, giving my shoulder an affectionate pat. "Now, get changed and come downstairs. I’ve already got fresh coffee waiting for you."
**
As anxious as I was, I found a small shred of comfort knowing Asher and I were in completely different worlds at the university. He was a graduating senior in sports science, practically living at the athletic facilities, while I was only a first-year fine arts student tucked away in the humanities building. The campus was massive, so the chances of me bumping in was slim.
When I pushed through the heavy doors of the art history lecture hall, the entire room was buzzing with restless energy. Groups of students were huddled over their desks, whispering excitedly behind their notebooks.
I slipped down the tiered steps and slid into the empty seat beside Gemma, my only real friend on campus.
"Where on earth have you been? What happened to your phone? I called you three times yesterday evening and texted you a million times, but you completely ghosted me!" Gemma didn’t waste a second before bombarding me.
A tight knot formed in my throat. I desperately wanted to lean over, bury my face in Gemma’s shoulder, and cry out the suffocating truth that Asher broke my heart, humiliated me in front of Lexi, and thrown me out like garbage. But the wound was too raw, too fresh, and the lecture hall was far too crowded for me to unravel.
"I’m sorry," I murmured, offering a weak, apologetic smile. "My phone was acting up last night. I promise I’ll explain everything later."
Before she could press further, I gestured toward the rest of the room. "What’s going on in here anyway? Why is everyone whispering?"
Gemma immediately forgot her annoyance. She clapped her hands together with a gleeful grin, leaning in close. "You won’t believe it! Professor Harrison had to take an emergency leave, and his permanent replacement starts today. Word from the faculty lounge is that he’s ridiculously young, brilliant, and completely drop-dead gorgeous."
I couldn’t help but shake my head, letting out a soft, tired breath. "I honestly don’t know what to do with you, Gemma. You’re always swooning over handsome men."
After what happened last night, I don’t think it would be healthy for me to look in another man’s direction or even try falling in love again.
"Hey, I’m totally serious this time!" Gemma argued with a playful nudge of her elbow. "They’re saying he’s on another level. Honestly? People are saying he’s way hotter than Asher."
The name struck me like a physical slap across the face. My stomach plummeted into a cold, sickening pit, the phantom memory of Asher’s cruel sneer burning through my mind.
I had to force myself to swallow the bitter lump in my throat, digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands just to keep my composure from shattering.
Don’t think about him, I chanted silently. He’s in the past. You’re moving on.
Right at that second, the heavy wooden door at the front of the lecture hall swung open. The frantic chatter died instantly. A dead, suffocating silence swept over the room.
A man stepped through the doorway, carrying an aura of absolute, effortless authority that seemed to pull all the oxygen out of the room. He looked surprisingly young compared to our other professors. Tall and broad-shouldered in a neat dark suit.
The entire hall fell dead silent as he walked to the front. He set a stack of papers down on the podium and slowly looked up.
His eyes scanned across the rows of students before stopping dead on me. My breath hitched in my throat and a sudden heat flutter straight to the pit of my stomach. My heart began to race wildly against my ribs, making my skin grow warm under his stare.
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, I quickly looked down at my desk. My cheeks burned with heat, and I pulled my hands into my lap, tightly gripping the hem of my cream sweater to steady my shaking fingers. How can someone be this striking handsome?
"Good morning," his deep, calm voice echoed through the quiet hall. "I am Professor Cassian Reed, and I’ll be taking over this class for the rest of the semester."
**
"Oh, that was one crazy lecture," Gemma said with a low whistle, slamming her notebook shut and standing up. "That man definitely knows what he’s doing."
The new professor had already packed his briefcase and stepped out, leaving half the lecture hall still buzzing and staring at the empty doorway.
I let out a shaky breath I felt like I had been holding for the entire hour. I honestly didn’t know if it was just in my head, but I hadn’t been able to focus on a single word he said. Every time I dared to lift my head, his dark, piercing gaze had shifted right back to me, locking onto my eyes and making my entire body run hot in a way I couldn’t explain and definitely didn’t want to feel. It was as if he was seeing through me with his gaze.
Shaking the strange sensation away, I followed Gemma out into the busy hallway. "By the way, Gemma..." I started, keeping my voice low as we navigated the crowd. "I got a job."
Gemma stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face me with wide eyes. "Wait, what? When did that happen?"
"Last night," I said softly. "It’s a housekeeping job."
Gemma frowned, looking completely confused. "Housekeeping? Why? Will you even have time to manage that and your classes while living at Asher’s place?"
I swallowed hard, bracing myself for her reaction. "Don’t freak out on what I’m about to tell you... but I don’t live there anymore. I’m moving into my new workplace today."
"Wait, what?!" Gemma gasped, grabbing my arm so hard a few passing students turned to look. "You moved out? Elvie, what the hell happened? Did something happen between you and Asher?"
"I really can’t get into it right now, but I promise I’ll explain everything later," I said, gently pulling my arm free and glancing at the time on my phone. "It’s getting late, and I can’t afford to be late on my very first day. I’ll call you the second I get settled, okay?"
"Elvie, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and run!" Gemma called after me.
"I’ll call you tonight, I promise!" I called back with an apologetic wave, turning around and hurrying down the corridor toward the exit.
A short while later, I was sitting in the back of a yellow cab as it drove past the district, heading toward the quiet, upscale outskirts of town. As I stated out the window a wave of nervous questions flooded my mind.
What kind of person had hired me? Was I going to work for a sick, dying old man who needed round-the-clock care? Was I going to be running around cooking and cleaning after unruly children?
Would living here be even worse than the constant misery at Asher’s house, or would it finally be better?
I gave my head a small shake, letting out a tight breath. Elvie, just be calm. Whatever it is, you can handle it.
"We’re here, Miss," the driver announced, bringing the car to a smooth stop.
I blinked, snapping out of my thoughts as I looked around. "Right, thank you," I murmured, reaching into the pocket of the trousers. I handed the driver the fare, and stepped out of the car.
The moment my eyes landed on the house past the tall black gates, the breath died in my throat. It was a stunning, modern stone villa surrounded by towering oak trees, with massive glass windows reflecting the warm glow of the evening sunset.
A soft, stunned "Wow..." slipped past my lips. Whoever lives here is packed with wealth.
I pushed open the heavy iron gate and walked up the smooth stone pathway leading to the main entrance. Standing on the front porch in front of the massive double doors, I adjusted the small bag I was holding and reached out to press the brass doorbell.
The chime echoed faintly from deep inside the house.
Elvie, this is it. You can do this, I told myself, squaring my shoulders. Whatever is behind this door, a cranky old man, screaming kids, or an intimidating estate manager, just stay calm and be professional.
I plastered my best, most polite smile across my face, ready to greet whoever opened the door.
A moment later, heavy, measured footsteps approached from the other side. The deadbolt unlocked, and the large door slowly swung inward.
My smile froze, and my eyes widened in pure, utter disbelief.
Standing in the doorway, towering over me, a man with broad shoulders, dark messy hair, and striking, sharp features. Gone was the charcoal suit, replaced by a simple, fitted black shirt that clung to his frame. His piercing, storm-gray eyes looked down at me with calm, dark intensity, was my new professor. Cassian Reed.