The morning light is filtered through the tall windows of Blackwood Manor, casting long, angular shadows across the polished floors. Lila stood in the quiet hallway, the heavy document of rules clutched in her hands. Her fingers traced the edges, and she let out a soft, frustrated sigh.
She read through the document once more, determined not to miss a single detail especially since he spoke so little, leaving her to navigate his rules on her own.
"Rules… rules… rules, she muttered under her breath. Does he think I've never worked for anyone before? She set the papers down on a small side table and crossed her arms, trying to steel herself. The rules were meticulous, rigid, and unyielding, a checklist of obedience that left no room for error.
Her actions, movements, and words are carefully measured. Lila knew that the man who wrote them demanded absolute precision. She couldn't help feeling a twinge of rebellion. It's just… too much, she thought.
How is anyone supposed to move freely here? "Is this a desert?", she asked herself.
The silence of the mansion was thick, almost suffocating. Every creak in the floorboards, every subtle rustle of fabric, seemed magnified in the cavernous halls.
Lila moved cautiously, letting her heels click softly against the marble, aware that her every motion might be observed.
"You're awake early," a warm voice called from the hallway. Lila turned to see Mrs. Cole.
"Good morning, Mrs. Cole. I… I have to see to Mr. Blackwood's needs," Lila replied, bowing her head slightly.
"Eat something before you start working," Mrs. Cole said gently, gesturing toward the kitchen where she was standing. Lila nodded, but before she could respond,
Connor appeared. "Mr. Blackwood needs you," he said, his tone steady, leaving no room for argument.
Immediately, Lila made her way to Darius's room. As always, she stood just inside the door, head bowed, letting the silence settle like a weight around her.
"Why are you late, Miss Morgan?" His voice cut through the room. Calm. Controlled. Unyielding. Lila froze, gripping the back of a chair instinctively.
"I… I was just…" Her words faltered, fumbling for an excuse that didn't exist.
"I don't tolerate lateness," Darius continued, the words precise, sharp, each syllable measured.
"If you cannot do your job correctly, I assume you can leave," he added, unflinching. "I do not care for excuses, and I will not tolerate sluggishness."
Her eyes pricked with tears, threatening to spill. "I… I'm sorry, sir," she murmured. Darius' tone remained steady, void of warmth or mockery only sharp, deliberate observation. "Good. Familiarity prevents mistakes."
"Yes… Sir," Lila whispered, a heat rising to her cheeks as she swallowed hard. The way he talks ignites something in her. She tried to steady her breathing, reminding herself that this was just the beginning, that she had to survive here, navigate the mansion, and learn the rhythm of its master.
"Why are you still standing there?" His voice carried a sharp edge, irritation threading through the calm.
"I… I'm sorry, sir," she murmured, bowing her head slightly.
She moved quickly, trying to shake off the flush of embarrassment, and began her chores. She arranged the room with sharp exactitude, straightening every detail as if her hands could erase the tension lingering in the air. Next, she prepared his bath, moving quietly so as not to draw his ire, her senses hyper-aware of every sound, every subtle movement around her.
Darius moved through the room with deliberate grace, every step measured. Though blind, he commanded the space around him, sensing her presence with uncanny accuracy. Soft shuffle of her feet, every slight movement, was cataloged, analyzed. She could feel it.
"The tension in the air, the invisible weight of his attention pressing down on her". "I'm done preparing your bath," she said, her voice careful, almost tentative.
"Get out," he replied, crisp and unwavering.
She hurriedly went out and stayed at his door. She paused for a moment, frowning to herself. What was that? He didn't even give a specific time, and yet he says I'm late. She let out a soft puff of air, pushing the frustration aside, and moved on to the next task she needed to do.
Her steps were measured as she made her way to his study, gathering her cleaning supplies. Her movement was deliberate, aware that even a small mistake could draw his sharp notice. She leaned slightly against the edge of the desk as she tried to calm her nerves. She couldn't help noticing… the way the air seemed to tighten when he spoke, the subtle shift in his voice when he measured her hesitation.
The mansion itself seemed to bend to his perception, shadows and silence acting as extensions of his will. Her gaze drifted around the room, taking in the furniture, the grand windows, the intricate carvings and she let out a quiet sigh. "Why does everything have to be so exact?" she muttered under her breath. Why can't I just… breathe?
A faint chuckle echoed from across the room. "Because precision keeps you alive here," Darius said softly, the edge in his voice is sharper than any reprimand.
"Lila's heart skipped. How did he get there so fast?". The weight behind the words sent a shiver down her spine.
Darius emerged from the study doorway, a passage to his room that Lila hadn't even known existed, the scent of his cologne sharp and intoxicating. Even in simple attire, he radiated dominance, his crisp black shirt clinging to broad shoulders, sleeves rolled to reveal the strength of his forearms, and tailored trousers that hinted at a powerful, lean physique. His hair, damp from the bath, clung slightly at the nape of his neck, dark strands catching the faint light, giving him an almost untamed edge
Lila froze mid-motion, her breath catching. The contrast of his relaxed posture and the raw authority that seemed to radiate from him made it impossible to look away. Every detail from the way the shirt outlined the muscles beneath the subtle curve of his jaw struck her with a force she hadn't anticipated. It was as if the room itself had contracted around him, and she was powerless to resist noticing.
Even blind, he exerted control, authority, and an invisible dominance that left no room for error. She realized that she was no longer in control of her surroundings, she was learning the rules of someone else's world. "How could one person be all these?" She asked. Despite her irritation, she felt the pull of the tension between them, a silent electricity that made her pulse quicken. She could hear the subtle shifts of his body, the deliberate placement of his hands, the quiet way he measured every word she spoke. She was cautious, aware, and yet… intrigued. His presence ignited a strange, unnerving tension within her, as if her body recognized a danger her mind had not yet accepted.
As the morning passed, she learned the layout of the study, the faint creaks in the floor, the subtle changes in sound that told her where he moved, where furniture was placed, how to navigate without making a mistake. Every instruction, every rule, every glance of perception from him sharpened her awareness.
By midday, her frustration grew. She retreated to a corner of the study, muttering under her breath as she reviewed the rules again. "Too much… I can't…"
"Too much?" Darius's voice broke the silence, soft yet firm. "Or not enough focus?" Lila froze.
How does he notice everything? she thought, swallowing hard. "I… I'll try harder," she whispered, hoping she hadn't betrayed her irritation too clearly.
The day passed in a careful rhythm of observation and cautious movement. She followed the rules, making small adjustments whenever he noted even the slightest hesitation. And with every step, every word, she felt the weight of his presence, the invisible gaze that measured her without seeing her, shaping the way she moved and breathed.
As evening settled and the mansion's shadows grew long and dark, Lila realized that this job, this life inside Blackwood Manor would challenge her far beyond her expectations. It wasn't just the rules, or the imposing nature of the man she served. It was the way he commanded the room, even without sight, the way his attention, so sharp and deliberate, seemed to follow her every move.
Darius Blackwood listened, fully aware of her hesitation, every misstep, every whispered thought. He had not yet revealed his secrets, but the subtle spark of curiosity and something darker had already taken root.