I followed the maid silently through the dimly lit hallway, each step feeling like I was walking to my own execution. My heart hammered against my chest as we ascended from the gloomy basement into the brightly lit main house. The contrast was jarring—down below, darkness and despair; up here, crystal chandeliers and polished marble floors.
Fiona was waiting at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. She dismissed the maid with a flick of her wrist.
"Follow me," she ordered, not bothering to see if I complied.
I trailed behind her, acutely aware of the servants' eyes on me as we passed. They knew what I was—or at least, what I would become. Julian Bennett's dirty little secret, hidden away in the servants' quarters but called upstairs when he wanted entertainment.
Fiona stopped abruptly in front of a door and turned to face me.