Page 6 of Colton

“Hello, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Mary,” he states, using my fake name. It sounds like poison on his lips, even though it’s the most innocent name I could think of. “I’ve told you repeatedly to call me Xavier.”

I think of getting caught out in my role and flush with anger, but it fools this prick into thinking I’m blushing for him.

Cunt.

“Sorry, Mr. Blackwood.” I stare at the floor and feel his heated gaze on me, and I vow whatever happens, I’m not letting him lay a finger on me.

“Well spoken for a mere maid, isn’t she?” Colton drawls as I lift my head slowly, eyes wide and confused, hiding the annoyance burning behind them. His gaze lingers on me a beat too long before he looks away, his jaw tense.

I remind myself why I’m here.

Focus on the plan, not on him. He’s nothing but an obstacle, another piece in the game.

But the way he watches me, like he’s already stripping away my defenses...it’s harder than I thought it would be to ignore the tension tightening my chest.

“She’s something,” Mr. Blackwood hums, desire lacing his voice. “Why don’t you stay for dinner tonight, Mary?”

“She’s busy,” Colton answers for me, glaring at me like he wants to cut me open and gaze at my insides.

The feeling is mutual, pal.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” I protest, shifting the cleaning box from one hand to another like the weight of it is bothering me.

If only they could see what I lift in the gym. Eighty-six kilos and counting, but my cardio has been lacking.

I make a mental note to go running tomorrow morning.

“Why not? Do you have plans?” Mr. Blackwood frowns, shooting a warning look at Colton which he meets with a bored sigh.

“She’s too young, even for you.”

They wander away, and I take the opportunity to head into the bedroom opposite.

I’m hit with the smell ofhimalmost instantly, a mixture of sandalwood and leather. But there’s something else, something stifling. It’s dark and twisted, curling at my nostrils as it steals my breath, dragging me further into his world. I concentrate on my job while greedily taking notes on how this boy lives, but I’m surprised to find his room is unlike the rest of the house—it’s spotless.

The windows gleam, letting the afternoon sunlight spill onto the four-poster bed with black Egyptian cotton sheets. The floor is clear of any clutter, but then my eyes are drawn to the large image hanging above the bed.

It’s of a woman, but she’s naked on all fours, a gag in her mouth as a man stands behind her. She’s got silky black hair, but it’s bunched in a fist, her eyes closed in ecstasy as he fucks her. I trail my eyes down her slender body, and my breath catches when I see the guy. Wait, that’s not just a man?—

“Get out.”

I whip around, my mask slipping as I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m cleaning.”

“You’re fucking not.” Colton closes the distance in a heartbeat, his hand wrapping around my arm like a vice, the pressure unbearable. The intensity in his eyes sends a chill downmy spine—he’s not just angry, he’s calculating, like he’s already imagining what it would take to break me, and I catch the brief flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.

The fuckingbrute.

He drags me close to him, towering over me as he grits his teeth, his eyes obsidian. “Get. Out.”

I yank my arm back, the flesh burning beneath his vice-like grip as I glare at him.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? I’m just doing my job.”

Colton stares at me, but there’s something almost inhuman about the way he’s looking at me. Like I’m a thing, not a human being.

It’s unnerving, but he’s not the first man I’ve met who behaves this way.