Ruth's POV
Quickening my pace,
To catch up with my boss.
While hurtful comments
About my attire,
He casually toss.
A gun in his waist,
A grin on his face
Brown hair slick backed
Armani suit in tack.
Blue eyes ocean deep
In my soul they seep.
He welcomed me in his house,
A mansion at that
Which was quiet as a mouse
No rat-a tat-tat
He took my résumé
He looked it over.
He said,
"If you don't mind, you can call me master Rover."
I laughed at his name
What widen was his grin.
He placed his cold fingers
Upon my chin,
His fingers linger there
Giving my body quite the scare
"I'm just kidding my darling.
Call me Master Alistair."
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The Billionaire's Maid
Poésie~A love that'll never fade, though obstacles occur, for the billionaire's maid is quite obscure.~ Join Ruth in this romantic poetry, as she tries to make ends meet for her mother and climbs her way to take what's rightfully hers. Alistair. The man...
