"Mr Montenegro, what kind of games are you playing? Can't you give respect to the lady of the house? Now wear that shirt of yours and go prune somewhere else first."
The lady was firm and loud, her voice ringing clearly through the crisp air. She sounded angry.
The guy looked at me and back to the lady. Now aware of the situation that was happening, he took the shirt wrapped around his waist and wore it.
His details were fine. Too fine to be even compared to Marcus or even Pablo. He had dark curly hair and dark brown eyes.
His shirtless body was covered by muscles, which made the contrast between them more evident. I could tell that he was taller than most of the men here and well,
Those arms should have been called 'handsome.' They looked like they belonged on the shoulders of a WWE fighter.
However, it wasn't his looks I focused on; it was more than that. It was his aura. I felt like I could look at this man forever.
And the longer we stood there staring into each other's eyes, the more that feeling grew. I wanted to touch his face, his chest, anything, just to be able to feel his presence.
I wanted to know who this person was. But if I did that, he would know my little affection and I couldn't let my emotions visible to him. The feeling of comparing him to the guys I saw before grew bigger
"Oh, Mrs. Del Monte, I didn't intend to offend you in any way. I was just doing my job here and it became hot walking around while pruning the flowers and trees." Mr Montenegro looked sincere.
His eyes never left mine and yet he spoke as if he had nothing to hide. "I'll leave now," he added before turning and walking away.
"Don't worry, it's…" It was completely okay for him to continue working there. It was obvious that others were not especially Carmen since she cut me off with,
"I hope you do excellent work there, Mr. Montenegro," the lady called after him, giving him one final look over her shoulder.
Her words struck a cord inside of me: She then looked at me again,
"Oh. He is new and he does not know the basics yet. My name is Carmen. Shortly, Lady Carm. I will also be assisting you in whatever you may need, "
Carmen looked like a woman in her early forties, with an air of regal elegance that seemed to command attention wherever she went.
She stood tall, with a graceful posture that exuded confidence and authority. Her blonde hair was impeccably styled, framing a face that bore the marks of time and experience, yet still retained a striking beauty.
"I'm… I'm Camilla," I stammered, feeling a bit out of place. "Thank you for having me here."
Her lips curled into a half-hearted smile that didn't reach her eyes. "We'll see how long you last,"
She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for me to catch her dismissive remark.
"Please, come inside. Allow me to show you around." Carmen's lips, painted in a bold red hue, were set in a fierce expression, revealing her not-so-liking attitude.
Her perfectly manicured hands, decorated with elegant rings, were ready to point out any flaw or inadequacy.
Her eyes, a deep shade of hazel, seemed to hold a lifetime of secrets, guarded behind an impenetrable gaze. Her suit uniform was a visual embodiment of her role as a figure of authority within the mansion.
It screamed a statement of her unwavering dedication to maintaining order and control.
It's only been less than thirty minutes since I arrived but I already felt small. I didn't possess such kind of power and I didn't think I would ever possess it.
As we entered the mansion, I was greeted by the sight of opulent furnishings, exquisite artwork, and ornate décor.
Each room seemed to have a story to tell, a history that spanned generations. The maids were passing, each of them busy with her chores but still managed to properly look at me.
"Good day to you ma'am,"
"Welcome to the mansion ma'am"
The sight of them, welcoming me with smiles, was both surprising and overwhelming.
Carmen motioned with a flick of her fingers, and suddenly, every maid rushed to form two lines with their hands respectfully clasped in front of them.
"Welcome, Mrs. Camilla Del Monte, to your new home," Carmen said with a touch of formality, introducing me as the first lady of the house.
"From this day forward, she holds a place of utmost respect." The maids nodded in unison, their eyes showing a mix of curiosity and reverence as they looked at me.
It was as if my presence alone commanded a newfound aura of authority, one that I wasn't quite sure I deserved.
"Uh, hi everyone," I began, my voice slightly shaky. "I'm, um, Camilla. Nice to meet you all."
The maids exchanged subtle glances, and I could feel their surprise at my informal greeting. Carmen cleared her throat, and I instantly knew I had misspoken.
"It is an honor for us to serve you, Mrs. Del Monte," She spoke with formality as she gave me that kind of eye.
The eye screamed, 'This is a high-class society and it would do you some good to act accordingly.'
"Mrs. Del Monte. Please, allow me to escort you to your new room," Carmen led me to the stairs. We passed several doors until we reached a door that looked exactly like the rest.
Carmen opened it and stepped aside. "Welcome Mrs. Del Monte!"
I entered and was stunned by the lavish interior. The walls were painted a rich brown color, the bedding of warm Beige colored satin and lace curtains, the furniture, a cream-colored carpet, and the whole thing complete with white wood furniture.
All of it screamed luxury.
Strange how everything looked brand new. The bed, the chair, the lamps, the curtains – everything looked like it came straight from some designer magazine. No dust nor dirt. Nothing was even touched by the maids.
Was this made for my arrival?
The day was spent inside the room. My new comfort space at least during the day. In the evening, when the sun was forming a series of orange colors, my eyes focused on the big window.
I took a step closer to the sight of a beautiful garden and a pond that it exposed. I gave a small smile to myself.
Just a couple of days back I didn't think of ever seeing this kind of vista but I was happy. Now that I could see it, my heart was heavy.
In the middle of all those thoughts, my eyes landed on the brown, dark curly-haired guy. The one who was shirtless this morning and was now fully clothed with an apple in his hand.
This time he was walking, smiling at the flowers as if satisfied with the work. A satisfying sight.
I couldn't help but stare at him, at his smile. Then his face tilted in my direction.
I froze.
His eyes and aura were captivating. At that moment, his eyes focused on me with an unreadable stare.
There was something about him that held me captive as if I were hypnotized. Something very strange.
Then suddenly, I heard a voice I didn't think I'd hear at that moment, "What are you staring at, woman?"
A deep husky voice that sent shivers down my spine
Marcus was home already.