By the time Jenna arrived at her apartment, there was a black SUV sitting outside. The surroundings made the car stand out like a predator in a junkyard.
"Miss Smith," the man stepped out of the car as soon as he saw Jenna approaching.
"I'm Daniel Torrid, Mr. Castilian's personal assistant," he said, his face a mask of professional indifference.
"Mmm," Jenna nodded politely, her gaze void of any emotion.
"Mr. Castilian sent me here to give you this," he said, holding a box in his hands. "You were in a hurry earlier, so he couldn't give it to you."
She took the box from him. Inside was a dress and on it was a card bearing Eric's personal phone number.
"Mr. Castilian wants you at the estate tomorrow." Daniel Torrid said his voice was flat as the pavement. "I'll pick you up by 5p.m. Mr. Castilian suggests you pack only what is necessary. Everything else will be provided."
Jenna arched her brows staring at him like he was blabbing in another tongue.
She dialed Eric's number and he picked up after two rings.
"Mmm," he answered.
"What's this about?" Jenna asked impatiently.
"We need to make this more believable Jenna. Living together will expel some doubts about this being a transactional relationship."
Jenna rolled her eyes at the end of his sentence. Like this wasn't what that was. He was only doing this to keep an eye on her but she couldn't refuse either.
"Fine," Jenna gritted the word from her teeth and hung up. She turned back to Daniel and nodded in acknowledgement.
By the next evening, Jenna had packed her things into a suitcase. She didn't have much anyway. She wore the dress Eric had sent her and applied just a lipstick, her wavy hair, falling down her shoulders.
She looked out her window, and of course, Daniel Torrid was waiting outside, punctual as he should be.
"Good evening, Miss Smith." Daniel Torrid rushed towards her.
"Good evening," Jenna replied, halfheartedly.
"We should move quickly, if we want to beat the evening traffic into the Highlands." He didn't comment on the single suitcase at her feet.
Jenna looked back at the door of her tiny room. She had recently moved in, but it felt safer than moving into the Castilian estate.
"Let's go," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
The drive took them far from the grit of the city and into the Highlands, a private territory where the gates were manned by armed security. When the car finally rounded the long, winding driveway of the Castilian manor, Jenna's breath hitched. It was a sprawling, neo-classical fortress of stone and glass, surrounded by perfectly manicured gardens that felt cold despite their beauty.
Daniel led her through the grand foyer, where the air smelled of beeswax and old money.
"Mr. Castilian is still at work," Daniel noted, stopping at the base of the grand marble staircase. "He suggested you settle into your room first. He'll meet you for dinner at seven."
As he spoke, a middle aged woman approached them with a sincere smile on her face.
"This is Carla Stevens. She'll assist you with anything you need." Daniel spoke curtly. "I'll take my leave," he nodded at Carla before turning on his heels and walking out.
"Miss Smith, I'll show you to your room," Carla said, ascending the stairs.
For the next hour, Jenna explored the bedroom she had been given. It was larger than her entire apartment, and the walk-in closet was filled with limited-edition clothes, bags, and shoes from various brands. She found a space by the corner of the closet to unpack her stuff, her clothes a huge contrast when compared to the dresses in the closet.
There was a mini study inside her room. Eric had set it up with the latest gadgets. She set up her portable rig on the mahogany desk, the glowing lines of code, luminating the room.
She was in a deep scan of the Stanton Group secondary servers when the door to the study creaked in.
Eric stood by the doorway. He had traded his boardroom suit for a crisp white shirt, the sleeves were rolled up and the top button undone, looking every bit like the king of his domain. He didn't come inside, just simply leaned on the doorframe, watching her.
Upon seeing him, Jenna scrunched her brows, her face seemed to say, 'I know it is your house Mr. Castilian, but couldn't you knock?'
"I knocked earlier but you didn't respond, so I figured you'd be in here."
Jenna ignored him, her eyes went back to the screen and her fingers moved with precision, each touch creating a line of code.
"The staff tells me you refused to let them help you unpack," he added.
"I don't like strangers touching my things. Especially not the ones on your payroll." She replied, not looking away from her screens.
"You're going to have to get used to it," his tone dropped to a low, dangerous rumble. "To my family, we are engaged. To the staff, you are the woman who tamed the illegitimate heir. If you look uncomfortable, people ask questions. And questions lead to the truth."
He walked into the study, his presence further shrinking the small space. He stopped behind her chair looking down at the scrolling data. "Is that them? Stanton?"
"It's a start," she muttered. "Their encryption is solid, better than I had imagined."
Eric's hand came down on the back of her chair, his fingers inches away from her shoulders. He could see her tense up from their proximity. "That's why you are here."
"Dinner is ready, put on something without a hood and meet me downstairs, we have some things to discuss." He said, stepping out of the room.
Jenna let out a huge sigh she didn't know she was holding in.
Alone again, she stared at the lines of code on her screen. Stanton had built their empire on her father's ruins. Taking the software should feel like justice. But instead, it felt like she was stepping deeper into a cage, one with Eric Castilian holding the key.