Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“You need to be put in your place.”
“My place is nowhere near you.”
“Your place is to serve anywhere and anyone who can afford you. I can.”
“I’m not some object you can own.”
“You are a subject I will own,” he countered, eyes dead. “Until I feel I’ve had enough of you. Which, worry not, should be very soon. I’m offering you an extremely short and economical deal. You’d be a fool not to take advantage of it.”
Finally—freaking finally—the thousands of alarm bells that should’ve gone off an hour ago blared in my head. Why, of all people, did he want to hire me? Sure, I challenged him in Go. But so could some 9-dan prodigy at the Ing Cup. Why me?
Why does it matter? You promised Dad you’d get his pendant back. You can lie to everyone but him.
“Fine.” I flicked a tomato chunk off my shirt, aiming for his shoe. Only fair. “If you give me the pendant back, I’ll give you a three-month contract.”
“The pendant is off the table. You’ll never have it.” He checked his watch, shaking his head at the time. “Six-month contract, and I’m your only client. Hours are eight-thirty to six-thirty. Five times a week. Weekend rates are triple the wage.”
Did he want a maid or a roommate? In what universe would I agree to such outrageous hours?
I fought an eye roll. “I have a company to run. I do three to four mansions a day.”
“You’ll do one, and it will be mine.”
“We’ll lose clientele. No, thank you.”
“Why would you lose clientele? You’re not the only cleaner in the company.”
My blank stare said it all.
His face morphed from boredom to revulsion. “You’re a one-woman operation, and you split the profit with your stepmother? Are you a crosswalk? Is your purpose in life to be stepped on?”
Actually, she got a sixty-forty split out of the deal. But I was too embarrassed to tell him.
I tilted my chin up. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“I’m offering a reasonable exchange. She’s offering you forced labor.”
“The fact remains that I can’t work solely for you.”
“You can, and you will, once your stepmother hires more help, which is what she’ll do by the time I’m done with her.”
Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?
Obviously, he had an ulterior motive, but I didn’t know what I could offer that no one else could. Other than Go, we shared nothing in common.
“I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart.” Zach read my mind, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking his emails.
“Then, why are you doing this?”
“Because you deserve to be taught a lesson.”
“And that is?” I regretted the question as soon as it left my lips.
“In this world, there are masters, and there are servants. I’m a master. You’re a servant. Act accordingly, and I will let you go.”
I didn’t buy what he was selling. No one would go through these lengths to prove something to someone they didn’t care about. At the same time, I knew better than to think he wanted to woo me. Zachary Sun gave off strong asexual vibes. I’d seen him several times, eyes clinging to his every move both up close and afar. He’d never so much as glanced at another human appreciatively. His eyes never halted on blush-stained cheeks or generous chests. Men did not interest him, either. He treated humans as stones in his Go game. Speaking of…
“You want to finish the game.” A tiny smirk interrupted my scowl. “That’s why you want me close.”
“You’ve caught me.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips. “Your intelligence knows no bounds.”
I slid past him, waltzed over to the counter, and opened an overhead cabinet. “You think you’ll win.”
He watched as I fished out a cup, filled it to the brim with tap water, and downed the whole thing. “I think the words you are looking for are thank you.”
“I still didn’t say yes to the deal.”
His thick brow tilted up. “Aren’t you going to offer me any water?”
I gave him a slow once-over, allowing myself the liberty to appreciate all the good parts. “Your legs and hands seem to be in perfect health. I trust you can handle the task.”
“I haven’t poured my own water in…” He scowled, trying to recall. “Ever, I believe.”
I set the cup down in the sink, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and clucked my tongue. “There is nothing quite as wasteful as lovely, useless hands.”
His jaw locked, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. It was a rare occasion, so I took that as a win.
“So.” He drew the word out, his free hand flexing, perhaps with the effort not to strangle me. These next six months will be hell for you, buddy. “Do we have a deal?”
I took my sweet time rinsing the cup. The Ahmadi home needed to be cleaned, but somehow, I trusted that Zach would follow through on his promise and wipe away my extraneous responsibilities. The raw pink skin of my hard-labored hands winked at me beneath a steady stream of water. Water I couldn’t afford. Under lights that still needed to be paid for. A mere six months, and my troubles might wash away. Could I do it? Could I sign away my soul to a monster in Armani?