Chapter 4

Billie.

The pepper and salt in his coffee were just the warm-up. The real masterpiece? The clip I had downloaded and strategically played on his laptop while he was showering.

Those million bucks were as good as mine. I could already feel my fingers tingling from the thought of touching all that cash. Should I ask for it in pounds or euros? Decisions, decisions.

Mr. Knight arrived shortly after. I stood by the kitchen counter, ready for the inevitable "You're fired."

But... nothing.

Not a single word. He just walked past me, went to his room, and returned like I was invisible.

"What?" he finally snapped. "Your shift is over. Leave."

Excuse me? That was it?

I glanced at the expensive-looking vase perched on the table, then nudged it.

Crash.

"Oh nooo," I said, feigning shock. "I just broke your very expensive vase, and I have no way of paying you back. Such a terrible employee, huh?"

Mr. Knight barely blinked.

"It's from IKEA," he said flatly. Zero emotion.

I clenched my fists. Of course it was.

As I walked out of the building, one thing was clear—

I needed to get way more creative.

~~~~

I spent the night strategizing. Clearly, the obvious approach wasn't working. If I wanted to get fired, I had to think bigger.

The next morning, I walked into the house with a plan so diabolical it should've come with a warning label.

Step one: Mess up his schedule.

I snuck into his office and deleted his meeting reminders. Just as I was about to slip out, the devil himself walked in.

"Why are you in my office?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I held up a duster. "Spring cleaning."

"It's January."

"...Early spring cleaning."

He narrowed his eyes but didn't fire me.

Step two: Destroy his diet.

Lexus was a strict health freak. So, I made him a special breakfast—an ultra-greasy, sugar-loaded plate of double-fried bacon, syrup-drenched pancakes, and three raw egg yolks in a glass.

"Eat up, boss," I chirped, setting the plate down.

He stared at it. "What the hell is this?"

"High-protein energy boost!"

He grabbed a fork, cut into the pancakes... and then handed me the plate.

"Eat it yourself," he said, smirking. "I insist."

I stared at the disgusting pile of grease. Damn it. He was onto me.

Fine.

Step three: Create absolute chaos.

I mixed bleach into the laundry, turning his entire wardrobe pink.

I hid his car keys.

I took his phone and texted his assistant: "Cancel all meetings today. I want to sit in my office and contemplate life."

By noon, I was sure I had him. He'd fire me for sure.

But instead, he just stood there, smirking. Smirking.

"That's cute," he said. "You think you can break me."

I gritted my teeth. WHY WASN'T HE FIRING ME?!

He leaned in, his voice low. Dangerous.

"Oh, you little girl," he murmured, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You don't have any cards up your sleeve. I've outlasted you. "

"This isn't over." I glared at him, arms crossed like some kind of avenging maid-warrior.

Lexus cackled. Not a normal laugh—a full-blown, villain-in-a-horror-movie cackle.

"Be careful what you wish for. I don't play soft, little girl." His voice was low, menacing—completely over-the-top.

He stepped away, leaving me standing there, shivering. Was it from the cold? From fear? Or from the fact that his proximity just gave me full-body tingles in a way I would rather not analyze right now?

No. Nope. Abort. I should NOT be having those kinds of thoughts about that smug jerk.

I shook it off and went back to my usual routine—cleaning, dusting, plotting my perfect way to get fired.

Then—

"Hello."

I froze. The voice was deep, eerie, and straight out of a horror movie.

I whipped around. No one.

"It's me."

NOPE. NOPE. NOPE.

I checked behind me. Nothing. I scanned the room like a paranoid squirrel. Still nothing.

What the hell? I KNEW that dumb river ritual would come with bonus ghosts!

My hands were shaking.

Then, in the most cartoonishly evil voice possible—

"I'M HEEERE. MUAHAHAHAHA!"

I screamed. Top-of-my-lungs, Final-Girl-in-a-slasher-movie screamed.

This house is HAUNTED.

I bolted to the bathroom, nearly knocking over a lamp. I needed water. I needed to breathe. I needed—

The faucet turned on by itself.

The water splashed onto my face like it had a personal vendetta against me. It wouldn't turn off. I wasn't even touching it!

Then—the lights started flickering.

Oh. Oh, HELL no.

I backed away slowly, dripping wet, my heart racing. WHY CAN'T I HAVE NORMAL PROBLEMS?

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse—

EVERY SINGLE ALARM CLOCK IN THE HOUSE BLASTED AT ONCE.

The noise was deafening. I clutched my ears, my brain short-circuiting. This is it. I'm officially in a horror movie.

And, knowing my luck?

I was probably the dumb copper head who dies first.

~~~~~~~~

Lexus.

"That's what she deserves." I chuckled, watching the CCTV footage of my maid screaming like a horror movie extra, convinced the house was haunted.

It was pure gold.

I leaned back in my chair and opened her file. Didn't take long to dig up her details.

Billie Castor Jean. Twenty-five. Drowning in debt.

Ah. So that's why she's pulling all these stunts—she needs me to fire her. Probably banking on some severance package or a legal loophole. Clever. Annoying, but clever.

Honestly? There wasn't much else on her. Kind of boring. But as my gaze flicked over the photos in her file, I found myself lingering.

Huh.

Billie was… gorgeous.

Not just beautiful—sexy, in a dangerously effortless way. Long, copper-colored hair that tumbled over her shoulders like something straight out of a shampoo commercial. Big, aqua-green eyes that were almost unnervingly vivid. Cupid-shaped lips, full and ridiculously kissable. And that petite frame? All smooth curves and an hourglass figure that could put pin-up models to shame. If Jessica Rabbit was real, she would look like Billie.

I narrowed my eyes.

Why did she look so damn familiar?

Before I could place it, my best friend strolled in, took one look at my desk, and smirked.

"Well, dang. Already admiring your new maid? You've got a real talent for hiring the hot ones."

I rolled my eyes. Dane was an idiot.

He picked up one of the pictures, studying it. Then, he glanced at me, brow furrowing.

"Wait a minute. She kinda looks like that mermaid ghost you swore you saw on New Year's Eve."

I froze.

Shit.

Now that he mentioned it… she really did.

~~~~~~

I didn't tell Dane about the prank I pulled on Billie. I wanted him to witness the chaos in real time.

"I'll be at your penthouse in a few," he said.

Perfect.

The moment the door slid open, I was greeted by absolute carnage. The place was a disaster—objects knocked over, wet footprints all over the floor, and my favorite rug looking like it had just survived a flood. Poor Billie must've run around like a lunatic, convinced the house was haunted.

I grinned, clicking the remote to shut off the "paranormal activity."

As I made my way to the bathroom, something on the floor caught my attention. Billie's uniform.

I looked up just as she grabbed a towel, barely covering herself.

Her hair was drenched, water dripping down her flushed skin. And damn.

I'd gotten a full second of all the curves that uniform had been hiding.

"Oh, uh… you're home," she stammered, flipping her soaked hair back.

And that's when it hit me.

The way she flipped her hair? Exactly like that girl at the river.

I frowned. What the hell?

The floor was wet, puddles forming under her feet.

"What the hell did you do?" I asked.

"It just started squirting right at me!" she said, gesturing at the sink.

A slow smirk curled at my lips. "Like how I'd make you do on m—"

Shit.

Did I just say that out loud?

Her eyes widened. "Huh? What?"

I cleared my throat. "What?"

"You said something."

"I said you need to stop being careless," I lied, too fast.

She squinted at me. "That is NOT what you said, you perv."

Before I could defend myself, she stomped toward me, towel clutched like her life depended on it.

"Listen here, you—"

That's when it happened.

She slipped.

Her hands flew out, grabbing my shirt for dear life, dragging me down with her.

I had zero chance of catching my balance.

Next thing I knew, I was on top of her.

Silence.

Billie's cheeks burned red, her wide eyes locked onto mine. She was soft. Squishy. Too close. Too damn tempting.

'Girl, the things I wanna do to you right now.'

Then she bit her lower lip.

I nearly lost it. "Don't do that," I muttered to myself.

And just when things couldn't get worse—

The door creaked open.

Dane.

Leaning against the doorframe. Grinning like the devil himself.

"Well, well… aren't you two busy making babies this fine January?"

I swear to God.

I scrambled off Billie before I did something stupid. Dragging Dane out before he could say another word, I shot him a glare.

"Shut. Up."

But his smug grin said it all. This wasn't over.