1. Evangeline

"Get over here you little bitch! I'm gonna beat the shit out of you! How dare you steal my benefits check!"

"Dad, please! I didn't steal your check! I swear!" I yell as I duck away from his flying fists. He punches a hole in the drywall, and I dive for cover, pushing the bathroom door shut at the last minute.

"I know you took it, bitch!" he screams, pounding on the door.

The bathroom"s cracked mirror reflects my sleep-deprived face, the sound of dripping faucets echoing through the room and intensifying the despair inside me. His drinking has gotten worse and worse. I don't know if I'll survive another day here. The stench of alcohol and garbage threatens to overwhelm my senses as I sit on the closed toilet.

I have to get out of this place.

With trembling fingers, I pull out my phone and start searching for any job that will take me far away. Whatever doesn't have a long list of requirements is fine by me.

Dad's incessant knocking is getting worse, and I curl in on myself, praying for something, anything that will save me. The floorboards creak as he paces outside, his presence like a specter haunting the house.

My fingers pause mid-scrolling when I spot an ad for a live-in maid. Pulling up the description, I read it over quickly, a sliver of hope blossoming inside.

Wanted: Live-in maid for private residence. No degree or prior work experience required. Must be 18 or over, must have a valid driver's license. Send email inquiry to Ronan Fitzgerald at [email protected].

My fingers fly over the screen as I type an email to Mr. Fitzgerald, heart pounding in my chest. It's a long shot, but it's the only one I've got right now.

Dad's knocking tapers off, and I breathe out, relief flooding me. He's probably wandering off to get more Stoli or maybe lie down.

Easing my way out of the bathroom, I look carefully around the corner to make sure he's not present and sneak back down the hallway to my room. I just have to wait and hope Mr. Fitzgerald gets back to me soon.

Once I'm inside, I shut the door quietly and throw myself onto my bed, forcing myself to shut my eyes and breathe slowly in and out.

My phone dings, and I sit up to grab it, hoping for a miracle.

Mr. Fitzgerald has sent me an email asking if I'm available for an interview this afternoon. I respond straight away and arrange to meet with him one hour from now.

Scrambling around, I grab the first halfway decent dress I own from the closet and throw it on, then brush my long, tangled blonde hair and pin it out of my face. I don't wear a lot of makeup, but I put on some mascara and lip gloss and conceal the dark circles under my eyes, calling it a day.

Once that's done, I hook my mom's pearl pendant around my neck and brush off imaginary lint before stepping back out into the hallway. I check around the corners again before creeping toward the front of the house.

Dad is passed out on the couch, a bottle of Stoli in hand. I throw one last look over my shoulder and head out the door, beelining for my beat-up Honda Accord, the only thing my dad ever spent his booze money on for me. I think it was mostly to keep me out of the house, not that it worked.

Taking off, I follow the GPS instructions away from Havencrest and head into the hilly region just outside of town. As I pull into a long, winding drive, I gasp.

The towering mansion casts a formidable shadow against the dense forest. The sprawling grounds are enveloped in a veil of mist, adding to the almost eerie, yet captivating, allure of the place. The house is in the Gothic style, with elaborate carvings and ivy-covered walls.

It looks like a hotel, I decide as I pull up in the gravel driveway in front of the home.

Heading up brick steps to the ornate front door, I reach out with a shaking fist and knock. The door is large and black, with two stained glass windows on each side covered in swirling, wrought-iron designs.

Raising a hand, I try to keep my composure as I knock. The door opens a few moments later by an older man wearing a neat, three-piece suit, wearing a stern expression.

"Hi, I'm Evangeline Parker. I'm here for the interview?" I say, hoping I'm at the right place.

The man nods and ushers me inside. "Please have a seat in the sitting room, and I will be with you shortly."

His deep-set green eyes remind me of a spring morning, and there's a slight lilt to his speech. My knees jiggle as I watch him walk away, closing my eyes and praying I don't screw this up.

The man returns a few moments later and sits in a high-backed armchair across from me. "Thank you for your patience. I'm Ronan Fitzgerald, but I go by Fitz. I am the head butler of Shadowvale Manor, and as of now, one of only a few staff members. This place is large, as you can tell, and I need to hire a few additional staff. Tell me about yourself."

"I'm Evangeline, like I said. I graduated high school last May, and I'm just looking for a job right now. Of course, I don't have much experience with being a maid," I admit.

"We can train you. I prefer someone with limited experience in this area, as it means there are no bad habits to unlearn."

"You said this was a live-in position?"

"Yes, you would be given room and board as a member of the household staff. You aren't required to use it, but we find it's easier since the property is quite far outside of town."

"I'm fine with that," I tell him. "Anything else you want to know about me?"

"Do you feel you're able to work quickly and effectively, and are you able to be on your feet for up to forty hours a week?"

"Sure," I say, smoothing my hands over my lap to discretely wipe away the sweat on my palms. "I'm strong and I'm smart. I can do this job, and I promise to stay out of the way of the homeowners."

"Impressive attitude. Welcome aboard, Evangeline. How quickly can you move into the manor?"

"Oh, gosh… I just need a day to pack my stuff."

"Wonderful. Let me introduce you to the masters of the house. The Everhart brothers are the ones you'll be working for. I'm just the intermediary."

As he rises from his seat, I trail behind him, navigating deeper into the house. Each step unveils opulent furnishings and intricate tapestries, leaving me in a state of awe.

"Here they are," Fitz says, gesturing to three men who are lounging around in a warmly lit living room. There are plush velvet sofas scattered around, as well as several towering bookcases filled with leather-bound tomes, giving the place an air of pure sophistication. "This is Evangeline Parker. I've hired her on as a maid for the household."

I nod curtly, and he begins introducing the men.

"That's Theodore Everhart, the eldest brother," he says, gesturing to a man with wavy, dark brown hair and vivid blue eyes, who gives me a brief once-over before going back to his book.

"And over there is Ryder," he adds, pointing to a man with shaggy black hair that hangs over his face, wearing a tight tank top with several necklaces. Ryder flashes me a wide smile and winks.

"And this is Oliver," he says, resting a hand on who looks to be the youngest of the brothers. He looks almost identical to Ryder, but he's got the same hair as the eldest. Oliver nods curtly and then looks back down at his phone.

Recognition floods my senses, causing my heart to pound in my throat as I clasp my hands tightly in front of me.

I know these men. I've met them before. Panic grips my chest as my mind spins, recalling the last time I saw them, six weeks ago.

Sweat drips down my back as I sway to the rhythm of the music inside the dimly lit club. Pounding bass seems to reverberate inside me, and I feel warm hands on my waist. I look up, intending to tell off the person who just touched me, but my words die in my throat when I spot the sexiest, most handsome man I've ever met in my life. He's got intense blue eyes and a dimpled chin that I want to touch. He's so tall, too, at least a foot taller than me.

"Excuse me, dollface," he murmurs. Then he looks down, catching sight of me, and his demeanor shifts, leaning in to speak directly in my ear. "Actually, hey there, dollface," he purrs, his deep, husky voice heading straight for my core.

Before I can say a word, he's joined by another ma, who looks just like the first. They have the same strong, sharp jawline and high cheekbones.

I can hardly find my voice as the two of them start dancing with me, running their hands all along my body as we move together to the music.

"It's my birthday," I yell into the first guy's ear. "I just turned twenty-one!"

"Happy birthday, doll," he says back, his arms wrapping around me. "Me and my brother want to give you a special birthday present. Do you want to come upstairs with us and see what it is?"

I bite my lip, considering. I've spent so long taking care of my dad that I never go out and just have fun. Even coming here was his idea. He dropped me off here so he could have the house free for him and his buddies to drink and watch the game.

"Sure," I say, leaning into him. "Show me a good time, lover."

I know they're drunk. The scent of alcohol seems to waft from every pore, but right now, I don't care. I just want to feel good tonight, to feel special and desired.

The first man disappears for a moment, leaving me with the second. He holds me close and grinds into me as excitement flutters in my belly. I never want this night to end.

The first man comes back, a third man in tow, just as handsome as the other two. His deep blue eyes scan me up and down with obvious interest.

"This is our older brother," he says into my ear. "He wants to join the fun. Is that okay?"

"Yes," I whimper. "Please."

They take me up the back stairs of the club and through a set of double doors that lead to a small hallway. In the dim space, the eldest fumbles to unlock the apartment, and I follow them inside, tumbling into bed with them and throwing caution to the wind.

The next morning, I'd woken up at the crack of dawn, and after realizing what I'd done, I crept away, hoping to never see them again.

But here they are, and a gnawing sense of unease grips my chest. Their indifferent gazes brush past me, leaving me to wonder… do they even remember that night we spent together, or do they simply not care?