Chapter 1 - The Silk Handkerchief
He was not a man who hesitated.
Yet Damian stood perfectly still in the quiet hallway for another long minute.
He listened to the soft rhythm of Tessa breathing and the rustle of the cheap cotton uniform she wore.
He finally pushed the heavy oak door open.
The hinges were perfectly oiled and did not make a single sound.
Tessa froze with the damp cloth still in her hand.
She slowly turned her head toward the doorway.
Her brown eyes widened as she took in the sight of the man standing in the shadows.
She recognized him immediately.
Every employee in the estate had been forced to memorize the face of the boss.
They were told to look away if he ever walked past them.
Tessa did not look away.
She swallowed hard, but her chin remained lifted.
Damian stepped fully into the room.
The air instantly felt heavier, pulled toward him by the sheer force of his presence.
He did not look at his mother sleeping peacefully on the bed.
His dark, cold eyes were locked entirely on the maid.
He walked slowly toward her, his expensive leather shoes making no sound on the hardwood floor.
Tessa instinctively took half a step backward.
Her shoulders tensed as if she were bracing for a physical blow.
Damian stopped just a few feet away from her.
He reached out without saying a word.
He grabbed her right wrist.
Tessa gasped in surprise and tried to pull away.
His grip was like iron, completely unbreakable but strangely careful.
He lifted her hand into the light pouring from the bedside lamp.
The cheap brown paper towels were stained with dried blood.
The rubber band dug sharply into her pale skin.
Damian stared at the makeshift bandage with a look of absolute disgust.
He was not disgusted by the blood.
He was disgusted by the indignity of it.
He slowly let go of her wrist.
He reached into the inner pocket of his tailored suit jacket.
Tessa stopped breathing, her mind suddenly flashing to the rumors of the violence he was capable of.
Instead of a weapon, Damian pulled out a clean, perfectly pressed white silk handkerchief.
He stepped closer to her, invading her personal space entirely.
He gently untied the cheap rubber band and let the bloody paper towels fall to the floor.
The jagged cut across her palm was deep and ugly.
Tessa watched in stunned silence as the most dangerous man in the city began to wrap her hand.
He moved with astonishing precision.
His long, strong fingers expertly bound the silk around her wound.
The fabric was soft and cool against her burning skin.
When he finished, he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers.
His eyes were the color of a stormy ocean.
He spoke in a voice that was low, rough, and completely terrifying.
You will never wrap your wounds in garbage again.
Tessa opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Damian looked at the sleeping form of his mother.
Then he looked back at the exhausted young woman standing before him.
You are no longer a maid.
Tessa frowned in absolute confusion.
Did he just fire me? she thought wildly.
I need the money, Mister Costa, she blurted out, her voice trembling slightly.
I promise I will not bleed on the furniture again.
Damian felt a strange tightness in his chest at her desperate apology.
He shook his head slowly.
You are not fired.
He took a step back, giving her space to breathe.
You are now my mother's private caretaker.
He watched the shock ripple across her face.
Your salary is now ten thousand dollars a week.
Tessa felt the room spin around her.
She grabbed the edge of the wooden chair to steady herself.
That is impossible, she whispered.
Nothing is impossible in my house, Damian replied coldly.
May you like
You start immediately.
He turned on his heel and walked out of the room before she could say another word.
