11
GEORGIA'S POV
I walked down the road like a hollow shell of a person. The sheer volume of shock I'd endured was more than any one person should have to carry.
The cool night air brushed strands of hair across my face, but I didn't even have the energy to tuck them away. I couldn't feel my own heartbeat; it felt as though my entire internal system had just shut down.
What was I even supposed to do? Cry? Scream? Run until my lungs gave out?
Everything about the last twenty-four hours was traumatizing. Finding out who Jaime really was, the arrival of his uncle, smashing that heirloom he treated like a god, and then being trapped by a centuries-old debt... it was too much.
At first, Jaime had been so callous, acting as if cheating was just a standard "man" thing. His apology hadn't felt real; it felt like he was patronizing me for "overreacting."
Then he walked in. The stranger from the hotel was Jaime's uncle. How could someone that young be his uncle? And more importantly, how could I have ended up in bed with a member of Jaime's family?
I dug my fingers into my scalp as I trudged along the pavement. I was doomed. It felt like the word was branded onto my forehead.
Why was I so reckless? Why did I have to lose my temper right next to his precious statue? Of all the places in that house to have a breakdown, why did it have to be there? Now I was legally and mystically bound to the man who had shattered my heart.
The night had been a comedy of errors—mistakes I would give anything to undo.
When I finally made it home and saw Natalia cleaning the shelves, the dam finally broke. She turned, saw my face, and dropped her rag immediately.
"Georgia!" she cried, rushing toward me. "Sweetie, what happened? What did he do to you?"
"Natalia… I'm…" I couldn't even get the words out. My lungs felt tight.
"Breathe… just breathe. Tell me slowly," she urged, holding me steady.
"I'm Jaime's slave," I sobbed, collapsing onto the floor.
"I don't understand. Talk to me, Georgia. I'm lost," she said, kneeling in front of me.
"You know that heirloom Jaime is obsessed with? The one he polishes every single day?"
"The wolf statue?"
"I smashed it, Natalia," I choked out, my voice cracking.
"What?"
"He wasn't exaggerating about how important it was. He has this book of laws… and because I broke it, I have to serve him for three years. The only other way out is to pay an impossible amount of money and find a way to replace the 'mystical' properties of the original."
Natalia looked stunned. "How did it even happen?"
I took a shaky breath. "I didn't tell you the whole story earlier."
"What story?"
"About when I found Jaime with that woman," I said, trying to steady my voice. "Last night… I slept with a stranger."
"Georgia!" she gasped, her eyes wide.
"The bartender drugged me, Natalia. I was drunk and out of it, and I just… I just…" I started crying again.
"You weren't yourself. You would never have done that if you were sane. You know that, and I know that. Does Jaime know?"
"No. He doesn't. But the man… the man I was with…" I hesitated.
"Is he blackmailing you?"
"He's Jaime's uncle," I whispered. Natalia went completely silent. "I saw him at the house tonight. The shock of it… that's why I stumbled. That's why I broke the statue."
Natalia looked like she'd been struck. "So, have you talked to him? Is he going to tell Jaime? Maybe since he's older, he'll have some compassion?"
"I don't think he's any better than Jaime. I don't even see how they're related, other than some slight family resemblance."
"Is he young?" she asked. I nodded. "Maybe they aren't even blood-related."
"There's a resemblance. And he knew exactly what would happen when the statue fell. He knew the consequences."
Natalia let out a long, heavy sigh. "This is a disaster. Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be his uncle?"
"Jaime wanted me to be his housemaid, but his uncle actually stepped in. He told Jaime to give me a better position. I have to go back tomorrow to find out what it is."
"You don't think he's trying to set up some kind of arrangement where you're forced to be with him too, do you?" she asked, gripping my arm. "Does he seem like the type to take advantage?"
"I couldn't even look at him. He looked decent enough at the hotel, but if he's a Dashton, he's probably just as bad as the rest of them."
"Oh, Georgia. What are we going to do?"
"I don't know."
"Listen," Natalia said, helping me up. "We'll wait until tomorrow. If I have to go over there and beg Jaime myself, I will."
I started crying again, moved by her loyalty. I was the one who had made the mess, yet she acted like we were both in the trenches together.
The next morning, I stood before Jaime's door, hesitating before I rang the bell. I had chosen an all-black outfit: a black dress, a black wool beret, and a black bag. I looked like I was heading to a funeral, which felt fitting for the death of my freedom.
I rang the bell twice. The door was opened by the woman from the other night.
I recognized her instantly. She blinked, swallowing hard, and stepped back to let me in. I expected her to be smug, but she seemed oddly reserved.
"Please, come in," she said politely. She couldn't meet my eyes. Good. At least she had the sense to be ashamed of herself.
Jaime was coming down the stairs, a smug smile on his face.
"Have a seat," he said casually. I sat on the sofa opposite him. "Katsha, sit," he added, patting the spot next to him. She obeyed.
"So, this is Katsha. She's been my secretary for years. It's funny you two haven't met until now, but better late than never."
The audacity of this man. Introducing me to his mistress as if it were a normal social call was a new level of low.
"I'm Katsha," she said softly. I didn't respond. I wasn't going to play nice with her.
"Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" Jaime prompted.
"To the woman who was in bed with my fiancé while we were still together? Am I supposed to pretend I'm happy to meet her?" I asked. Jaime smirked, but Katsha looked like she wanted to disappear into the upholstery.
"Well, you'd better get used to her, because she's going to be your supervisor."
"What?"
Jaime turned to Katsha. "You're up for the challenge, right?" She nodded. Then he looked back at me. "You'll be working as my secretary for the next three years. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to be the maid?"
"A secretary?" I repeated. That wasn't as bad as I'd feared. At least it was a professional setting.
"A live-in secretary," Jaime clarified.
"What?"
"We're moving into the main family estate tomorrow. You're coming with us."
My blood boiled. He was forcing me to live under the same roof as him and his mistress—and potentially his uncle. But I was trapped. I had no leverage.
"Is that all?" I asked, my voice cold and hollow.