Only Me

**KAELIA**

The heavy thud of the car door sealing me inside severed my final tie to the outside world. The journey out of the bustling city settled into a suffocating, unbearable silence. I sat rigid against the plush leather of the luxurious, long black sedan, alone in the back passenger area with Bastian Navarro. The air inside the cabin felt thick. The leather seats were pristine, smelling of expensive cologne and wealth. It was a stark contrast to the cheap perfume and stale beer scent lingering on my clothes from the club.

I stared blankly at the partition. My stomach twisted into knots. I agonized over the situation, desperately wishing Scarlett was sitting right beside me to hold my hand. Instead, she was riding far ahead of this vehicle on her streetbike, leaving me to face this nightmare alone. If she truly cared, she would be back here in this cliche mobster car, shielding me from the man sitting inches away.

The confined space of the sedan saturated with Navarro’s dark, dangerous energy. Every time he shifted in his seat, a fresh wave of tension crashed over me. The heavy presence pressed against my chest. He was a known criminal. A mafia boss. A killer. He did an excellent job of ignoring my existence, staring out his window, and I tried my best to do the same.

Just twenty minutes ago, the deafening bass of the underground club had been rattling my skull. I had been frantically babbling to Scarlett, foolishly believing she was securing me a quiet, unexciting life. A safe haven. Instead, she had handed me directly over to a predator. The sharp, brutal contrast between the chaotic noise of the club and this tomb-like sedan made my head spin.

But the quiet atmosphere shattered when his voice filled the car.

"Kaelia Vance."

His deep, chocolatey voice resonated through the floorboards. I stiffened, refusing to turn my head.

"Tell me," he continued, a mocking edge in his tone. "Do you always dress like a third-grade teacher?"

My thighs clenched in defensive embarrassment. Heat flared in my cheeks. I was painfully aware of my current state. I wore oversized, stained clothing and faded jeans two sizes too big. My hair was a tear-tangled mess. I had been dumped, betrayed, and booted from my university life. I wore the pathetic, visible remnants of that humiliation for the world to see. Mascara likely streaked my face.

I turned my head. "I don't dress like a teacher," I snapped back, defending myself. "I dress like a student."

My eyes betrayed me, drifting down his face despite my better judgment. I knew I sat next to a highly dangerous criminal, yet I found myself analyzing his handsome facial features. The dark shadows cast sharp angles across his face. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high and prominent. It was unfair that a man responsible for so much violence could look so structurally flawless. A dark five o’clock shadow rested on his angled jaw. It looked rough. Masculine. A brief, intrusive thought shoved its way into my brain, making me wonder exactly how that coarse stubble might feel scraping across my own lips. The phantom prickle ghosted over my skin. His black hair was slightly tousled, styled yet soft.

Navarro ignored my snap. He shifted his posture, adopting an authoritative tone. His bright green gaze locked onto me.

"There is a strict set of rules you will be expected to follow while employed and residing in my house," he outlined.

I swallowed hard, holding his stare.

"There will be a formal contract," he mentioned, his voice issuing a cold, hard warning. "As well as extremely generous financial compensation. But once that contract is signed, there is no backing out."

The precise, calculated use of the word 'contract' sent a foreboding shiver down my spine.

Desperation kept my mouth shut. Seeking clarity, I narrowed my eyes. "What exactly constitutes extremely generous pay?"

Navarro smirked. His eyes grazed over my lips. The visual touch sent a jolt of heat through my stomach.

"You'll see," he replied.

"Why can't you tell me now?" I tried to press him for actual numbers.

Before I could push further, Navarro retrieved his phone from his inner jacket pocket. He ignored me, terminating the conversation.

I suppressed a frustrated groan and turned my attention to the window. The city lights had faded, replaced by blurring rows of trees. I peered into the darkness, realizing I had no clue where we were located. We were in the middle of nowhere.

I sank back. I internalized this isolation, musing that vanishing might be the perfect revenge to give my bastard ex, Garrett, something to worry about.

A dull ache pulsed in my chest. My rational mind acknowledged Garrett wouldn't care at all. He threw me out like garbage.

Navarro pocketed his phone and pivoted the conversation.

"So," he asked. "Why did you decide to quit school?"

I flinched at the question. My shoulders jerked.

"Is that what she told you?" I whispered.

He tilted his head. "Isn't that what happened?"

A massive wave of profound gratitude crashed over me. Scarlett. She fabricated a cover story, shielding me from the humiliating truth of my public expulsion. She didn't tell him about the disastrous scene in the dean's office. She didn't tell him I was practically dragged out in front of my peers.

I agreed with the lie.

"Yeah," I stated. "That's it."

I tore my gaze away as the sedan traveled further. The dense tree line broke, revealing a massive, imposing brick wall and a heavy wrought iron gate.

As we rolled closer, the headlights swept across the foliage. I spotted armed men dressed in black. They were hiding in the surrounding trees like ninjas, clutching dark rifles. The dark metal barrels peeked through the thick branches, tracking the movement of the sedan. They were lethal, ensuring no one entered or left this compound without Navarro's permission.

"Is this a gated community?" I asked nervously.

Navarro chuckled at my naivety. "You might call it that. There are quite a few other people who live here. Much like you will be."

The iron gates groaned open. As the car proceeded down an isolated, wooded road, the lack of neighboring driveways made the reality clear. This was not a neighborhood at all. This land was his private domain.

The road curved, and the trees cleared. The vehicle pulled up to the main structure.

It was a staggering, enormous red-brick colonial mansion. Elegant pillars supported the front porch. I craned my neck, my eyes widening in horror as I took in the three distinct stories composed of endless, gleaming windows.

I stared at the sheer size of the colonial structure, my mind racing. A house this size would require a small army to keep running. The manicured hedges lining the circular driveway were immaculate. The stone steps leading up to the massive double doors looked spotless. The sheer wealth radiating from the brick and mortar made my stomach drop. I didn't belong in a place like this. I was a broke, expelled college student wearing stained clothes, sitting next to a man who likely owned the police force.

I panicked over the physical labor required if I had to clean every single room.

The sedan rolled to a halt.

"This is my estate," Navarro introduced. "And should you agree to the contract terms, it will be your new home."

Trembling, I turned to him. "How many people live here? Am I the only maid on the premises?"

He chuckled again. "Absolutely not. I employ an entire dedicated team of servants to maintain the common spaces."

Relief bloomed, but it died the moment I looked into his eyes.

A sudden, dark shift transformed his expression. The haughty disdain melted away. His gaze dragged over my body with agonizing slowness. It pierced right through my frumpy, oversized clothes to acknowledge the curves hidden beneath, stripped of his previous disdain.

He brought his eyes back up to mine.

"Your singular job will not be general cleaning," he corrected me, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "Your job will be attending to me. And only me."