Chapter 1

Life has been cruel to me so many times that I don’t expect anything good to happen to me anymore. I was raised in poverty and hardship, that’s all I ever knew. My father wasn’t a violent man, but he was rarely at home and refused to provide for us. Mom had to bear all the burden of our family on her shoulders. She was the sole breadwinner, working as a maid and using her salary to pay our school fees and feed us. Father would also steal from her sometimes to get his daily dose of alcohol. As if we were not struggling enough. He didn’t only refuse to contribute in our family’s finances. He also took from us.

And the thing is, I sure didn’t have it easy but my mom had it worse. She never had a single moment of rest in her life.

God bless her soul...

She never even let us see her in pain. The only time I saw her break down and cry was when my younger brother died from a leg infection. He was only seven and I was ten. Mom didn’t have enough money to take him to the hospital and we had to use a cheap nurse for little Antonio’s care... He was hurting all the time and naturally, it became more than he could bear.

Mom blamed herself for his death even though it had never been her fault. I think that’s when she started to let herself die as well. Maybe she desired joining little Antonio in heaven more than she wanted to stay alive for me.

She wasn’t taking care of her health anymore, even though she barely did before either. She also smoked a lot, maybe an entire pack per day. Sometimes two. It wasn’t a surprise to any of us when the doctors told her she had a lung cancer and it was at a pretty advance stage.

Of course, mom couldn’t afford the treatment so she suffered for years while the cancer ate her lungs away. I watched her rot without being able to do anything. Then, she died and I was happy...Happy because she finally could rest.

Her funeral was held yesterday. Not many people showed up and that’s because we don’t have much family left or friends who’d care enough. That’s what happens when you live in one of Colombia’s poorest neighborhood; you can’t trust anyone enough to make relationship. The only guests were my father, the priest, the old man who was digging the grave, and me.

Kneeling by my bedside, eyes closed and hands joined, I pray for my mother’s soul. I hope that she’s with sweet Jesus right now and the angels. I hope she’s with Antonio. I ignore the tears that are covering my cheeks and whisper:

“Mommy, please...Look after me from up there. Make it easy for me to go on without you. I’m really scared.”

I sob quietly as I think of what my life will become as a twenty years old girl, without a proper family. I don’t even have a job. How am I supposed to survive?

As if on cue, my stomach starts rumbling, reminding me that I haven’t eaten yet. It’s the evening and the sun is already starting to set. I won’t be able to go out and get food, unless I want to be raped and murdered. The best thing is to get to the kitchen and see if I can cook something. I will go for grocery shopping tomorrow with the little money I found in mama’s closet.

There is not much of an inheritance to receive. Mom didn’t have anything. This run down apartment wasn’t to her name and I guess I will have to figure out how to pay next month’s rent.

I tiptoe my way to the kitchen and open the fridge. It’s empty except for water and a loaf of bread. Luckily, I find some instant noodle in the cupboard and my stomach dances with joy at the thought of eating that.

Suddenly, there is a hand over my shoulder. I let out a scream and turn around, only to be met with my father’s blank gaze. Slowly, he raises one finger to his lips, asking me to remain quiet. His hand is heavy on my shoulder and he reeks of alcohol.

“Papa...”

“Feed me, Catalina...Your father’s hungry.”

“Oh...Yes.”

His hand travels all the way down to my hip before he sniffs heavily and leaves to sit in the living room. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and my eyes start to water. Papa is acting a little strange, lately. Since mama’s death, he became touchier. I always find his hand on me. I would like to believe that he’s just sad and in need of affection but I don’t know... There is a nasty feeling sitting at the pit of my stomach.

I make him noodles with the only pack that was left. I guess I will have to starve tonight. I give him the bowl in the living room and sees that he has an open can of beer in his hand already. Isn’t he drunk enough?

“Thank you, my sweet girl. Do you want to sit and watch a telenovela with me?”

“Oh, no Papa. I’m tired, I’ll just go to b...”

“Sit.”

He says it with so much force that I understand he won’t take no for an answer. I sit next to him on the sofa and papa turns on the TV to a random movie.

I don’t feel comfortable. I can feel him looking at me and he smells really bad. I don’t think he showered since mom’s death. I hear him slurp his noodles and laugh at the TV like a maniac. To keep my stomach from rumbling, I cross my arms over it.

I don’t say anything, even when papa starts to massage my back, getting lower and lower by the second. I freeze and my soul leaves my body. I want to punch him in the face.

“Why are you so tense, sweet girl? Are you sad that mama is gone? Don’t worry...I will take care of you.”

His hand is now on my lower back and dad’s face get closer to mind. I’m horrified to realize that he’s about to kiss me so I stand up quickly and move far away from him. My entire body is shivering in disgust.

“What are you doing, papa?” I ask in a low tone.

“Nothing. What’s wrong, girl?”

“D-don’t ever touch me like that again...I-I’m going to bed.”

He stands up but he’s too drunk and wobbly to chase properly after me. I run and Barricade myself in my bedroom. He comes up a few minutes later and knocks. Papa insults me and says he wishes I would die too. I sob while listening to all of that and it seems to be going on for hours. Eventually, the silence comes back.

I reach out for the nightstand to turn off the light but instead my hand grabs a letter. I took it from the mailbox this morning but forgot to read it. It’s from mama’s boss. She worked for him as a maid for six years and always told me he was the worst, he and his children.

The letter is addressed to me, so I assume that it must be his condolences. I click my tongue in distaste because I don’t care for the fake concern of this man who tortured mama all these years.

Despite all my resentment, I still tear it open and start reading:

"Dear Miss Catalina Nunez,

I heard of your mother’s unfortunate passing and before anything, I wish to present to you my sincere condolences.

Now that this is out of the way, I will go straight to the point and inform you that during her time of work in my home, your mother broke a twenty thousand dollars vase that I received as a gift from a foreign business partner. As payment, she was supposed to work for me for ten years, without wages. She already completed three of those years but with her death, you understand that I find myself in an uncomfortable position. I feel cheated on and I do not like it.

That is why I’m requiring that you continue with the payment of your mother’s debt. Please come to meet me at my mansion tomorrow at twelve and we will discuss the arrangement.

Fail to do so and I won’t hesitate to sue your family and ask for the reimbursement in cash of my vase or for your imprisonment.

Once again, I present to you my sincere condolences and I hope to see you tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Carlos Whitlock."

I read the letter twice and it still leaves me with the same amount of shock and disbelief. I see that mama wasn’t exaggerating when she called this man a monster. He made her a slave just because she broke a vase?

Why has mama never told me this? And if she worked three years without wages, how did we manage to survive all this time? The thoughts in my mind are giving me a headache.

I also know that I have no choice but to go to that meeting tomorrow with Mr. Whitlock. I hope I can find an arrangement with him because I’m not about to work for seven years as a maid without getting paid.

But the way I see it now, maybe it will be a bit hard to get myself out of this situation...What should I do, mama?

Chapter 2

As promised, I present myself at the Whitlock’s mansion at twelve o’clock. It’s the only property for miles in this very expensive neighborhood called “Los Rosales”.

The Whitlock chose to put their dark, gothic mansion, in the midst of trees, shielding the property from curious outsiders. I stand at the gate and press the interphone until a man’s voice asks:

“Yes?”

“...Hello. My name is Catalina Nunez. I have a meeting with Mr. Whitlock.”

“Come in.”

The gates open automatically and I walk inside the large garden. There is a stony path leading to the actual mansion but it seems so far away. This place is humongous. I walk slowly while admiring the beautiful garden and its water fountains.

It will always surprise me how some people are blessed in life. I can’t begin to imagine what it would be like to live in a place like this, to have so much wealth while others struggled to feed themselves. I would like to believe that I would be grateful if I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth but who knows? Rich people are usually the worst in here and maybe I wouldn’t be so different if I was one of them.

I finally arrive at the mansion’s door and knock. An instant later, a man comes to open for me. He must be in his thirties and has the iciest pair of eyes I have ever seen. It makes me shiver. The corner of his lips tremble:

“Come in, Miss Nunez.”

I get in and the heavy door closes loudly behind me. The man is bulky and quite tall. I assume he must be a guard or something. A place like this deserves some level of security, no ?

“Master Whitlock is waiting for you in his study.” He explains to me.

“Alright...”

The walls inside the mansion are very tall and dark. I don’t feel at ease here, it almost gives me the impression of being in a haunted dimension. A voice in my head tells me that I might never leave this place again and that I should run for my life.

We take the large stairs up, our footsteps resonating in the silent manor. On the first floor, we walk down a hall and stop in front of a dark door. The guard knocks and opens it. His large body is shielding me from the sight within.

“Your guest has arrived, master.”

“Let her in.” A breathy voice responds.

The guard moves out of the way so I can get into the study. He leaves immediately after while I take in the large room with rustic furniture and curtains drawn in front of the windows.

It’s dark but I can clearly see the man sitting behind the desk. He is old with white, thin hair. He is also skinnier than I imagined, his frail body hidden inside an expensive grey suite. The man’s blue eyes stare at me behind his squared glasses. He pushes them up his nose and sighs heavily.

“Miss Catalina Nunez...”

I don’t like the sound of my name coming out of his mouth. It makes me very uneasy but I force a smile and walk closer to the desk. He waves his bony hand and I understand that he’s asking me to take a seat in front of him. I do so, noting how ashy his skin is. Mr. Whitlock doesn’t seem to be in great health...

“You’re beautiful.” He immediately states with a creepy smile, taking me off guard.

“...T-thank you, sir.”

“I didn’t know what to except considering the fact that your deceased mother was just average but you...You are quite something, dear.”

I move uncomfortably on my seat. His comments are really out of place, aren’t they? I’m simply supposed to be his maid, why does he care about my physical appearance?

Fine, I guess there is something attractive about long, wavy, dark hair and a set of light brown eyes but the reality is that I’m just average. There are plenty of beautiful girls out there and nothing is interesting enough in me to have Mr. Whitlock mentioning it.

He coughs in a white napkin and clear his throat hard.

“The man who brought you in is Hector, the chief guard here. There are other young men working under him and taking care of the security in and around the mansion, as well as trained, fierce dogs. Naturally, those men live here too. Your mother used to take care of the cleaning and cooking...You probably noticed that the place is unkempt since she...Left.”

I nod sharply. Indeed, I did notice the dust on the floor and walls while walking in. But did mom take care of everything on her own? This mansion is huge!

“My sons didn’t live here but they’ll move back in tomorrow.” Mr. Whitlock adds. “I have three boys, you see. One of them has just turned five years old and they all have different mothers who are no longer part of my life. When those boys move in, you will also have the responsibility to take care of their needs.”

I nod again, assuming that he’s talking about feeding them and washing their clothes. I ignore the sly smirk on his face and ask:

“But sir...Isn’t there something else I can do to pay my mother’s debt? You have a lovely home but it’s not my wish to work here for seven years...I would like to continue my studies and save enough money to build a better life. Working for free for so long will be a little difficult for me...”

Mr. Whitlock let’s out a breathy laugh and coughs too. I don’t get what’s so funny. He leans over the table and glare at me in a way that makes me feel like a disgusting insect.

“Shut up, you filthy slut!” He spits.

I gasp in shock at those awful words coming out of his mouth. I definitely did not expect him to speak so crudely to me.

“A better life, you say? Someone like you can never be anything more than a slave, cleaning other people’s shit. Your mother was like that until she died and you will too. Don’t ever fool yourself into believing that you deserve more.”

Deep down, I know that this man is just bitter and cruel, but his words pierce my heart nonetheless. My eyes fill with tears and my shoulders start to shake violently under the shame and the humiliation. He is right, isn't he? How dare I imagine leading a life different from my mother’s? My fist tightens and I look deep into his eyes, despite my tears. I might be the daughter to a maid but I won't allow anyone to disgrace me and certainly not this old jerk.

“I’m not a slave, you fucking asshole.” I spat at him through gritted teeth.

I don’t know where this courage has come from but I won’t sit still and take his insults, even if they have a bit of truth in them.

Mr. Whitlock laughs even louder than before. He leans against his chair and push his glasses up.

“Well, you’re definitely not like your mother!” He mocked. “That one never stood up to me, you know, no matter how much I insulted her...Perhaps she was taking it without a word because she needed the money to feed you.”

I’m really this close to jumping over this desk and strangling the last bit of life out of this man. He knows exactly what to say to hurt me.

“Is there any other way?!” I yell at him, hitting my fist against the table. “Answer me! I would rather commit murder than work for someone like you.”

“Too bad, dear...You do not need to kill anybody but you do need some money if you want a way out of this situation. You give me twenty thousand dollars in the next couple of days, or you get yourself a one-way ticket to jail for not reimbursing your debt...If you didn’t notice, I’m quite influential in this country. I can make sure that you get locked up for at least twenty-five years...So. What is it going to be? Is it better to lose seven years or twenty-five, Miss Nunez?”

“...It’s not fair!”

“No, it’s not. But it doesn’t matter because you’re poor and I’m rich. I can do anything I want.”

Knowing he is so right is making me even more pissed. Mr. Whitlock made it clear; he is not about to have any sort of pity for me and I do not want to go to jail.

“Fine.” I say but not without the fire in my eyes. “I will work for you but let me tell you this, I won’t tolerate your disrespect. I won’t just take it, do you hear me? You might think that I’m helpless but don’t test me, sir. You have no idea what people like me are capable of when we have nothing to lose.”

“It’s master for you.” The man replies coldly, ignoring my threat. “While you work for me, you will only refer to me and my sons as masters. I won’t tolerate any disrespect either. You will live here with us and work 24/7. No off days unless it’s unavoidable. While you’re here, I will also provide you with meals and clothing so you won’t need anything outside. No guests for you. You’re not allowed to go out either unless my sons or I give you permission. If you break any of these rules, you will be severely punished. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” I respond bitterly. “But my mom was allowed to go home every day.”

“Because your mother had a family to take care of. You are alone. If anything, I’m doing you a favor by keeping you out of that filthy neighborhood.”

I don’t admit it of course but he is right. Staying in that neighborhood is not really a choice of mine and I would take any opportunity to stay away from my father right now.

“When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. You should be here by six in the morning.”

I stand up and eye Mr. Whitlock with great distaste. Mama was right when she called him a monster. He is even worse than that.

“Jesus will give me the strength to survive the next seven years, sir.” I tell him.

“Oh dear.” He mocks. “I’m afraid there is no God. Not for you, at least.”

I choose to not respond and walk out of his study room while he coughs and laughs. I hope he chokes. I walk down the same stairs as earlier while thinking of what my life is about to become. Now that Mr. Whitlock is out of my face, my shoulders slump and I wipe my tears pathetically with the back of my hand.

This is awful. This family will put me through hell, I know it.

Is God angry with me? Is that why he put all these challenges on my way? I don’t like to think this way but sometimes, I can’t help it. It’s as if the worse predicaments are meant to crash on my head. And why hasn’t mom told me about this damn debt? If she did, I could have tried to figure out a solution with her. Did she not want me to worry? Well...That didn’t turn out great, did it?

I pass the front door and walk down the same stony path, knowing that I will be back soon enough for more torment. Now, I can notice a few guards pacing in the garden, some walking with German shepherd dogs. They all stare at me go with dead silence.

When the gates close after me, a voice in the interphone speaks and scares the hell out of me:

“See you tomorrow.” It says.

I think I recognize the voice of that chief guard Hector but it doesn’t sound cheerful. Not cheerful at all...

Chapter 3

I woke up early to get ready for work. There are not much things to take and so, I only have a backpack with my comfort pajama inside, undies, a framed picture of my family and my copy of the bible.

Before leaving, I sit at my desk and write a letter for papa. In it, I’m informing him of this new job, which will keep me away from home for the long term. I also tell him that he will have to take care of himself and perhaps get a job too since I won’t be able to send him money.

I put the letter on the living-room table, next to his cans of beer so I’m sure he’ll find it. As a last caring act for him, I also leave on the table the little bit of money that mama had in her closet. That’s the most I can do for papa at this point.

I’m thinking of going to see him one last time in his bedroom but I quickly decide against it. I’m not foolish enough to take that risk. He’d be more than capable of touching me inappropriately again and I don’t think I can handle that.

Therefore, I leave quietly, knowing that I won’t be back here for a long time. It feels like I’m turning away from my history. I’ve lived here all my life and all of a sudden, I’m forced to go somewhere else...It makes me tear up on my way to the bus station.

Going to the Whitlock’s mansion is quite a hassle. I don’t know how mom kept up with it all these years, especially while suffering from cancer. First, I have to take the bus for twenty minutes and then ride in a train for almost two hours. Of course, all of this is manageable. The worst for me is the thirty minutes walk on deserted forest paths to finally reach the mansion.

By the time I get there, my legs are numb and I’m drenched in sweat despite the cool morning air. At least I won’t have to commute like this if I live here, that’s one thing to be happy about.

Today, I don’t have to introduce myself at the gates. They open as soon as I press on the interphone button and all I have to do is walk in. I also find that Hector, the chief security guard, is waiting for me at the mansion door with the same stoic look from yesterday. I wonder what he’d look like with a smile...

“Good morning, Catalina.”

“Good morning, Hector.”

We get inside together. He tells me that my bedroom is next to the kitchen and that I should head there first and change into my uniform. I didn’t even know I would have one. Hector takes me to the chamber and I come to realize that it will take me some time to get used to all the different hallways in this mansion. There are just too many of them.

But, when I get to my bedroom, I find that it looks absolutely lovely. It’s big enough with a large window giving an exquisite view of the back garden. A queen size bed stands by the wall and I have a closet and a desk, as well as a soft carpet. The walls are painted in lavender. I smile in appreciation. My previous bedroom was a lot smaller than this one.

“Your clothes are in the closet.” Hector tells me. “After you change, you can get to explore the mansion on your own and start cleaning. Everything you need will be next door, in the kitchen. Also, keep in mind that Master Whitlock wakes up at eight and breakfast must be ready by that time. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“No.Thank you, Hector. But...Where can I find you if I have questions later?”

“You can just send me a message.”

Hector and I exchange phone numbers and I thank him again. Maybe I can find a friend in him, even though he doesn’t look too sociable. He leaves me alone and I open the closet to check what’s inside.

There aren’t plenty of clothes but it’s just enough for me: two sets of pajamas, one dress, two pairs of jeans and a few tops. There is also underwear in one of the drawers and the sight of them makes me blush furiously. The old man thought of everything, huh...

Of course, the most important items are my three uniforms of different colors: pink, black and baby blue. The pink one is my favorite so I naturally decide to wear it on my first day.

The uniform is the typical maid outfit. It’s a dress with nice collars, buttons on the front and a white apron around the waist. The only thing is I find it a little tight and short...The dress barely reaches mid thighs. I guess they didn’t get my right size but it will have to do.

I keep my backpack in the closet and head out to the kitchen. It’s massive. My eyes widen and I feel like I’m in one of those telenovelas I used to watch with mama. It doesn’t look like anyone has cooked here before because everything is clean and sparkly. I take a look at the fridge and find that it’s filled to the brim with food and so are the cupboards.

I find a closet with all the cleaning material, just like Hector said. I wear gloves, plug in my headphones and instantly get to work.

I’m used to cleaning, I’ve practically done it all my life. My mama made sure to teach me how to take care of a home so I hopefully could do it one day for my own family. I think that dream is not quite achievable now but at least, I can use my skills to pay off my mother’s debt to this family.

I start to clean the ground floor and I end up having a lot of fun thanks to the music in my ears. The mansion is huge but it can be manageable with good organization. I dust the old paintings and photographs, broom the floor and mop afterward.

At seven, I return to the kitchen to start breakfast. I’m assuming I will have to cook plenty, not only for the old man but for the guards too. Luckily, there is plenty of grocery available. I make a typical Colombian breakfast with scrambled eggs, sautéed rice with beans, sausages and arepas. And coffee too, of course.

I was just setting the last dish in the dining room when Mister Whitlock walked in, resting half his weight on a cane in his right hand. I fold my arms in front of me and greet him formally:

“Good morning, master Whitlock. Your breakfast is ready.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me. I watch him through the corner of my eyes, taking place at the table and picking at his food with a fork. His face is void of any emotion as he says:

“Miss Catalina Nunez will be caring enough next time, to keep in mind that I’m old and don’t have good teeth. These types of meals are uncomfortable for me to eat. A chicken porridge like those your mother used to make would be more appreciated.”

Despite his complaint, he still puts some scrambled eggs in his mouth and chew. I nod.

“Yes. Sorry, master Whitlock. I hope you will still enjoy your meal.”

As I walk out of the dining room, he suddenly turns around and yells at the top of his lungs:

“Nice ass in that uniform, by the way!”

I don’t have to see myself to know that my face has turned violently red due to rage. I swallow it down and leave quickly. I never met a more disgusting man in my life and believe me, there has been plenty.

There is another dining room by the kitchen and it’s reserved to us, the staff. When I get there, I find that no less than ten young men in guard uniforms, including Hector, occupy the large table. They are very loud and cheery. I wasn’t expecting to find them in here and I gape at them with surprise.

They also stare at me in a similar way. I note that three large dogs are sitting by the table too and they look ready to attack.

“Uhm...”

“Don’t worry!” One of the young men chuckles. “These fellas won’t attack unless we ask them to.”

“Oh.”

Indeed, the dogs remain in the same position even though their dark, beady eyes are still on me. I clear my throat and try to catch as many eyes as possible.

“Well...Hello to all of you. My name is Catalina, I’m the new maid.”

“Nice to meet you!” They all reply in unison.

Their good mood is instantly back. I smile as they all excitedly speak at the same time to give me their names. I forget them as soon as they come to my ears. Something tells me that these guys haven’t been around a lot of women, which would explain their current child like behavior.

“Let me get y’all some food.” I say and they cheer again.

Some of them help me get the dishes from the kitchen and put them on their dining table. The most eager to please is a youngster that probably just turned eighteen...Still very young compared to the others. His name is Ricardo.

During our trips from the kitchen to the dining room, I get to learn a lot about him, like the fact that he was working for the Whitlock family since he was sixteen and that he’d seen a lot of gruesome stuff in this job. I don’t know if he’s just exaggerating to impress me or if he’s actually telling the truth.

The table is barely set that they all start to dig in, eating like starved men, which they were, maybe. I get sausages for the dogs too and they lick my fingers affectionately.

“You’re Mrs. Nunez’s daughter?” One of the men asks me with his mouth full.

“Yes, I am.”

“Your mama was great. Sorry for your loss.”

They present their condolences and I smile to thank them. I end up joining the table and eating my first meal of the day among these new friends who keep filling my plate with sausages and arepas. For one quick second, I feel bad for Master Whitlock, eating alone next door. But then, I remember what an asshole he is and realize that someone like him doesn’t deserve anything else.

After breakfast, some of the guards help me clean the dishes in the kitchen and tell me to come to them if I need anything. Ricardo blushes deeply when he waves me goodbye, being the last one to leave. I find myself alone again.

It’s during the afternoon that my downfall truly begins. I was already starting to get used to my new life in the mansion when master Whitlock called for me to meet him in the living room.

I go in there, not really knowing what to expect and find three strangers sitting with him on the leather cushions. I guess immediately who they are: the Whitlock sons.

One is a five years old child with a full head of thick curls and blue eyes. The other is a boy of maybe twenty years old, looking just as icy as his father. And lastly...

It takes me a while to get over that last one: the oldest son.

I guess he must be in his mid twenties and is by far one of the most handsome men I ever got to lay my eyes on. He is tall and strong, with deep hazel eyes and a sharp jawline. His dark hair has been put in a neat style, pairing adequately with his impressive eyebrows. He looks like he’s been sculpted out of stones.

Our eyes lock and it becomes almost impossible to look at anything else.

“My sons, I introduce" to you Catalina.” I hear the breathy voice of master Whitlock. “As I already told you, Miss Nunez, they are coming to stay here with me.”

I nod, still staring at the middle son. I could have sworn that he was an angel but he just had to open his mouth to prove to me that he was in fact the complete opposite. He was the devil in person, sent to torture me.

His lips stretch in a vile grin, similar to his father’s and he asks:

“So, that’s the little slut you got for us, daddy?”

The faint smile I had on is swiftly wiped out of my face. My mouth falls open while the little five years old chuckle and all four sets of eyes fall on me. The humiliation is making me want to bury myself alive but more than anything, I want to know...What is exactly my purpose here? Have I just been brought to be the maid or is there something darker that I should have known before throwing myself in the lion’s den?

Chapter 4

“Excuse me?!”

My voice ricochets against the walls, showing clearly how pissed I am right now. This guy doesn’t even know me. We are meeting for the first time and he dares to call me a slut in front of his father and brothers?

And apparently, he wasn’t expecting me to stand up for myself after such disrespect. One of his eyebrows raises high and he glares at me from head to toe with disdain.

“Don’t you EVER refer to me with that word again.” I tell him with my eyes boring into his.

I don’t know where all this courage is coming from, honestly. I am aware of the fact that this is a very powerful family and that I could get in trouble for speaking my mind but I don’t care. I might be poor but I still deserve some respect. I know exactly the type of men that this guy is, anyway. There is plenty of his kind back where I’m from. They will try to intimidate you at all cost and the slightest sign of weakness will allow them to dominate you. That’s what we call bullies and I know exactly how to deal with them.

When master Whitlock starts to laugh, his son and I break eye contact. We both turn to him and I wonder what he finds so amusing. He laughs until he’s out of breath and starts to cough again in his napkin.

“Don’t you just love her!” He howled. “Not like the others, eh?”

“Were did you get her from, dad?” The middle child asks. “Is she suicidal?”

That one is my age. He chuckles and looks at me as if I’m some sort of joke.

“Maybe she is.” His father responds. “All I know is that she got a big mouth and doesn’t hesitate to use it. She is different from the usual. Why don’t you introduce yourselves, boys?”

The youngest one starts waving his hand at those words. When he starts to talk, I notice the big gap in his front teeth and it’s just adorable. I almost forget how enraged I am. I love children; I think they are the most precious things in the world, even rich ones with nasty parents...

“H-Hello, Catalina. My name i-is Nico. I am one, two, three, four, five years old!”

He flashes five tiny fingers at me, accompanied by a big smile. My mood immediately lightens up. I chuckle.

“Nice to meet you, Nico.”

Instinctively, I turn to the middle brother. He rolls his eyes and mutter in a rough voice:

“Valentino.”

...I guess that’s his name. I nod solemnly and the oldest son is suddenly standing on his feet. My anger comes back to the surface with great strength. I really don’t like that one. I guess looks are really not everything. Even though he has a beautiful face, his nasty attitude is doing a good job at clouding all of that. I don’t want anything to do with him.

Thanks to his long legs, he manages to walk the distance between us in mere seconds and he towers over me with a dark expression on his face. I don’t falter or look away. I won’t let him intimidate me.

“And who might you be?” I say with my chin up.

The oldest son clicks his tongue in distaste but I notice that the corner of his lips is rising in a discrete smile.

“My name is Ivan but you are not allowed to address me as nothing else but young master Whitlock. Same goes for my brothers but, they might allow you some slips here and there. I won’t, though. I won’t tolerate the slightest mistake, miss Catalina. Is that clear?”

Huh. He is just as insufferable as his father. Speaking of the latter, I can see him beam with pride through the corner of my eyes. He must be satisfied to have raised his son to become an asshole.

“It’s clear, young master Whitlock.” I say with a fake smile on my face. “But I also hope I won’t catch you calling me a slut again because I have things I don’t tolerate too. Now, if you will all excuse me...”

I make a dramatic bow and turn to exit this living room when suddenly I hear fingers snap. My head spin. It’s Ivan, of course. Did he just snap his fingers at me like I’m a damn dog? My mouth opens but I have no words to express how offended I feel.

“Miss Catalina, I’m afraid none of us allowed you to leave yet or am I mistaken? You just can’t take decisions like this on your own. You need to wait until one of your masters dismisses you. Didn’t you mother teach you anything?”

My hands tighten into fists. I’m trying very hard to remain strong and composed but it’s getting harder by the second. I hate how these people are treating me and thinking that my mother went through such disrespect is killing me right now. I can imagine her putting up with it just because she wants to earn for us.

Ivan sneers. I can tell that he’s enjoying this and hoping that I will break down and cry. In face, I can feel the hot tears filling my eyes but I won’t let a single drop fall. I won’t ever let him see my pain.

“Is there anything else you need, young master Whitlock?” I snarl.

“Yes, actually. My suitcases aren’t going to roll themselves up the stairs, are they? I want you to take care of that right away. My room’s on the second floor, the last door on the left.”

“As you wish.”

I find the suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. There are five of them. Ivan who followed me out of the living room points at the two black suitcases, which also happen to be the largest.

“You want me to take these up?” I frown.

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

Isn’t it obvious? These suitcases are clearly heavier than I am. I want to tell him but I soon realize what kind of game Ivan is playing with me right now. He’s trying to push my limits but I won’t make it easy for him. I grab one of the suitcases and starts dragging it up the stairs.

Okay...

It’s tougher than I expected.

I huff and pant heavily, pulling the monstrous bag one step at a time. It’s only been a few seconds and I already feel like my arms are falling off. Ivan stands at the bottom of the stairs and watch me struggle with a smug look.

“You’re useless.” He says.

I choose to ignore him. I can do this. I won’t give up.

In the midst of my struggle, Ricardo gets in from the entry door and his eyes widen when he sees me. The young guard quickly takes the stairs to meet me. I don’t think he noticed Ivan on his way up.

“Dios mio, Catalina! Why are you carrying this thing on your own, it’s twice your weight. Let me do it, okay? To where?”

He’s already taken the suitcase from me. I mumble some words, looking between Ricardo and a very pissed off Ivan who is coming at us.

“Excuse me?” He snaps.

Ricardo turns and he gasps, recognizing the son of his boss.

“Master Whitlock!”

“Yeah. I asked this girl to take the fucking suitcase up. Why are you interfering?”

“O-Oh. You a-asked her to...I didn’t know, I...It’s just so heavy and...”

“Let her do it and you get lost.”

Ricardo doesn’t seem too happy about this but we all know that he holds no power. He is just as defenseless as I am. And so, he has to leave and my struggle continues.

It takes me fifteen minutes to get the first suitcase up and by then, my arms are dead and so are my legs. Yet, I am not allowed to rest. Ivan insists that I go down and get the second suitcase. I do it and it’s even harder than the first trip. This time, it takes me twenty minutes. I fear that he will ask me to get all of his brothers’ stuff too but thank God, his cruel mind doesn’t go that far.

I lean against the wall of his humongous bedroom and breathe through my mouth.

“Is there...Anything else...master W...”

“Do I need to tell you everything, Catalina? Put my belongings in the dressing room for God’s sake.”

Ivan turns around to plug his phone in the charger by his nightstand. I squint my eyes at his back, wishing I could just beat the shit out of him.

His dressing room is the size of my assigned bedroom by the kitchen. Its filled from floor to ceiling with designer clothes, expensive accessories for men and smart shoes. It feels wrong for me to be surrounded by so much luxury.

To take my mind off of these things that are none of my business, I get to work and start unpacking Ivan’s suitcases. I’m not surprised to find more luxurious items, of course. I find spots for them on the shelves. The shoes are the hardest to place though because all the racks are taken. I have to kneel and reach far in to put his sneakers somewhere.

When I turn around, I find Ivan leaning by the dressing room’s door. I know the look on his face. He was definitely checking out my ass while I was busy stacking his shoes.

I don’t say anything about that, though. I honestly don’t want any more problems with him. I simply close the suitcases and store them away. I stand in front of him and note that he is really doing twice my height.

I have always been a petite girl, barely five foot two so people are usually taller than me. But, I don’t like it when it comes to Ivan. It makes me feel vulnerable.

“I’m done, master Whitlock. Anything else?”

Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

He remains silent just to annoy me. Ivan shoves his hands in his jeans pocket and hums, as if in deep thought.

“You’re free to go for now.” He ends up saying.

I sigh in relief and scurry toward the door, which represents freedom to me at this moment. Yet, before I leave, I turn around to get one last look at Ivan Whitlock. I find that he’s shamelessly staring at my ass again.

What a fucking perv. My guts tell me to be very cautious around him and so, I declare him to be by number one enemy in this mansion.

My gut feelings are never wrong.

Chapter 5

The rest of the day passes with much more ease than it started with. I don’t cross path with Ivan again and his brothers aren’t as cruel as he is, even though they don’t show much sign of kindness either.

Valentino acts as if I don’t exist, except for the few nasty glances he will throw my way when we run into each other in the various hallways of the mansion. Nico on the other hand surprised me the most with his sudden coldness. The kid is only five years old but his skill in imitating his older brother’s murderous glares is very impressive.

He suddenly changed from the cute little boy who was so eager to introduce himself earlier. Now, he doesn’t even want to talk to me anymore. I suspect his father and brothers have something to do with it. They probably told him that he is not to befriend the maid since I am only vermin meant to serve them.

I really hate the way I’m being treated by this family. If it weren’t for my mother’s debt, I would have quit on this very first day. Plus, the work is tough for only one girl. I still haven’t gotten to dust the entire mansion by nighttime and I have no choice but to leave some of the chores for tomorrow.

Alongside the cleaning duties, having to cook large pots of food is also quite a struggle. I made stew for dinner and by the time I serve the Whitlock family in the dining room, the guards have already inhaled their bowls and asking for more. Luckily for them, I made enough food for an entire army but it took the life out of me.

“You’re a great cook, Catalina!” Ricardo compliments me with a huge grin.

At least, words like this make the struggle worthy .I can say with confidence that Ricardo is the one who appreciates me the most in this mansion. The other guards are kind too but a little rough. They don’t really talk to me but I often catch them looking with interest. Specially Hector. He is the most dignified of the lot but he is always observing me. I wish I could read his mind and know what he thinks of me exactly.

I sit at their table to eat my own stew. Some of the guards take meat to the dogs outside. Those dogs are also making me very anxious. Ricardo swears that they won’t attack me but I just can’t trust him with that. I’ve always been wary of Belgian Shepherds. There are lots of terrible stories about them where I’m from. It’s rumored that they don’t hesitate to bite into people’s flesh, even the innocents.

“Don’t worry.” Ricardo tells me with a wink. “I will keep you safe.”

His comment makes me laugh while some of his peers just roll their eyes in exasperation. Ricardo isn’t even trying to hide his little crush at this point. He refills my cup with cool water and I thank him.

Suddenly, a presence brings silence to the otherwise noisy dining room. I turn toward the entry door and see Ivan. He is standing there with his arms behind his back, sharp eyes squinting at the guards and lingering on me. His mouth turns into a scowl.

“There aren’t anymore bread on our table, Catalina.” He mutters through gritted teeth.

“Oh. Okay. I’m coming, master Whitlock.”

He turns and leaves immediately. I excuse myself from the guards and go to the kitchen to get more bread for the Whitlocks. Their table is awfully quiet and the air is tense among them. The hair on the back of my neck stands. I put the basket of bread at the center of the table.

“Is there anything else?”

Ivan turns to me. His jaw is clenched tight and I ask myself why he looks so pissed. Did I do something wrong again?

“As the oldest son of this family, my father just authorized me to maintain the order in this mansion, Catalina.” He informs me. “That means that I take all the decisions from now on and they are not to be questioned.”

“Hmm...Sure.”

The old master Whitlock nods as if agreeing with his son. I don’t care whichever of them takes the decision. They’re both as insufferable anyway. I just don’t understand why he is telling me.

“My first decision is that you’re not to eat with the guards anymore, Catalina.”

“E-excuse me?”

“You heard me. You will eat alone in the kitchen from now on. Or wait until they are done if you prefer the dining room. No more shared meal.”

“But...”

I flex my fingers and draw a deep breath to calm down.

“May I know why, master Whitlock?” I end up asking.

Ivan’s fingers tap repeatedly on the wooden table, making a very disturbing noise. The corners of his lips rise in a smirk.

“It’s because you’re a distraction to them, Catalina. The guards are supposed to eat their meals in quiet and in a short time, so as not to be distracted from their jobs. Eating with them will make them lenient and risk putting all of us in danger. Does that sound reasonable to you or do you want to question my decision again?”

I look at the other people at the table. Valentino and Nico are picking at their food without meeting my eyes. The old Whitlock just sneers, mocking me. I swallow and nod.

“It’s understood, Master Whitlock.”

Ivan waves his hand lazily and I understand that I can finally leave. So now I have to eat on my own, huh? As if this mansion wasn’t depressing enough. At least I found companions in the guards but Ivan snatched that from me in mere seconds. What an asshole.

When I tell the guards about this new decision, they all seem to be thinking the same thing as me but they don’t say anything bad about the Whitlocks. I understand why, of course. It only took a foolish man to curse his boss, after all.

We finish dinner in a sour mood and this time, no one helps me with washing the dishes, certainly to keep themselves out of trouble. I think this new decision of Ivan has just labeled as unapproachable to the guards.

After washing all the plates and cleaning the kitchen again, I deem myself too exhausted to lift another finger. It’s around ten in the evening and all I want is to get to bed.

I check the rooms on the first floor first and don’t find any of the Whitlocks. I guess they went to their bedrooms or something. The guards are still patrolling outside, though. Are they even allowed to sleep?

I get to my own room and sigh in relief after closing the door behind me. All the stress from the day lifts from my shoulders. Being in my personal space makes me smile despite the exhaustion.

First of all, I brush my teeth and take a warm shower in the bathroom. It really helps with the muscle cramps. One of the pajama sets in the closet is a cute pink and grey short with its matching top. I wear it and tie my hair up in a loose ponytail.

A sound coming from outside my window makes my heart skip a beat. It sounds like a knock. I push the curtains and immediately see Ricardo’s smiley face. He waves at me and I chuckle before opening the window.

“You scared me.” I tell him with a grin.

“Sorry...I just want to wish you goodnight before you went to sleep.”

“That’s very sweet, Ricardo. Thank you for being so caring but...Maybe you shouldn’t be, after all. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with the masters because you speak to me.”

He clicks his tongue with his brows furrowed.

“I’m not scared of them, Catalina. I want to be your friend and there is nothing wrong with that. Unless you don’t want it, I will always be kind to you.”

His words warm my heart. I reach out to hold his hand.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You know...” He whispers. “I don’t like the way master Ivan treats you.”

“Well...I don’t either but that’s just how it is with rich people. They treat people like me with no respect.”

“No.” Ricardo shakes his head, holding my hand in both of his. “Master Ivan has never been so cruel with the maids before. I hear the guards say it, you know. He always ignores the personnel but with you, he is being very difficult.”

“Really?”

“Yes...You should be careful with him. With all of them, actually. The Whitlocks are a dangerous family, Catalina.”

I nod, feeling a nasty twist in my stomach. I do think that the Whitlock family is carrying darkness that I’m sure I do not want to discover.

“Don’t worry about me, Ricardo. I’m very cautious and I’m not about to put myself in danger. I’m here to work and that’s all I will do. I won’t give Ivan the opportunity to mess with me.”

Ricardo beams, happy with my response. When we hear someone walking nearby, he wishes me goodnight again, kisses the back of my hand and leaves running. I close the window and the curtains before going to bed.

Yet, my encounter with Ivan keeps replaying in my mind. Is it true that he’s never been so harsh with a maid before? Then, I would like to know why he chose me as his scapegoat. I have been respectful to him but he went ahead and called me a slut before I even got to introduce myself. He clearly wants trouble but I won’t participate in whatever game he is playing. I just want to be left in peace.

I lie under my covers and check my phone for the first time since I arrived this morning. I gasp at the sight of fifteen missed calls from my father. He also left me many voice mails, the most recent one stating:

“How could you abandon me like this, Catalina?! You left me to die, just like your mother did! Go to hell! And don’t you dare come back and beg me for help when life will punch in the guts. From now on, consider yourself an orphan. You have no father anymore!”

My eyes fill with tears after listening to that horrid message. I guess papa didn’t take it too well that I left for this job...

I know this is not him, though. It’s the alcohol that is making him say things he doesn’t mean but God, it still hurts me. I cry more, realizing that he is not wrong. I’m definitely an orphan now, without a mother or a father. I’m all alone in this cruel world.

My hand flies to the cross I’m always wearing and I squeeze it tight in my fist. At least God is still here for everyone, even for those who lost all. I trust that he will bring better days to me when the time is right...