His Vengeful Game(Wattys2018)

Chapter Eight

It's Sunday, for Peter's sake. My day off. The only one I have to spend with my dad. I knew that accepting this job would take away the most priority of my life. But I didn't expect it to be so soon.

I barely have time to eat. My best friend is upset with me. I have already bailed on her twice now. We were supposed to go out tonight.

But I guess it won't happen. Is he kidding me?

"I'm not kidding, Miss Laurent. You're my PA, and I need you to assist me with something." He answers my silent question.

I crunch my fist and hit the bed before planting my face in my dad's pillow to scream my anger off. I hate this man so much that it makes my head hurt.

I rapidly walk to my bedroom, looking at my dad, who's ignoring me.

I change the crop top with a more presentable shirt while reassembling my hair in a high ponytail. I feel awful. My dad is right. Am I going to have time to spend with him? This man is making my life a living hell.

"I'm going to work. I'm coming in a bit." my dad's eyes open widely, ignoring my sight.

I stand at the door for a few minutes, waiting for him to say something, but he does not. He rolls his chair in his bedroom instead. I make my way outside.

The distance is far from my home. The chauffeur he sent to get me is friendly. He's been working for Mr. Wright's family since Wright was 20 years old. He says he enjoys working for him.

Once I get to his place. His palace. I don't know where I am anymore. It's a whole new world. This place is breathtaking.

I descended the car with my eyesight lost in this new, astonishing environment.

The mansion is inviting. The green color of the two well-arranged trees and the grass makes my breathing easy as I'm walking in the middle of them. The multi-colored flowers greet me once I enter this charming palace.

It has turrets, gables, dormers, balconies, and a formal garden. On my right, there is this beautiful and calm lake. More than a dozen swans repose on the tranquility of the water.

The tall trees reflected on the water on the west side of the lake, making a dark silhouette against the blue. On my left, there is this tranquil pool that, I guess, heads inside the house.

Once, I attempted to knock at the front glass door. That doesn't permit me to see inside the house. My phone vibrates. I press the power button to read the message.

I'm not here, but you still have to do your work. So, look over the front porch light, and you'll see the key. Just go to my bedroom. Walk straight to the corridor. The last room is mine, and you'll see the papers you'll have to type with the laptop on the bed.

With no time to waste, I did as he ordered. I take the key on top of the porch light and open the door.

My eyes jump back and forth to this tremendous and antique kitchen. Its features give a vibe from an earlier historical period with an authentic restoration. The unique character of this style brings a sense of age beauty to traditional homes.

Everything in this room seems old but with a unique modern style.

I walk straight to the corridor with my eyes admiring every fancy object in this house.

Once I reach the room, I collide with something hard and dump. Holding my scream, my eyes close, and I do as my hand desires. I begin to touch, and to my surprise, my hand rests on something harder and firm. And smooth.