Colton (Archer High #4)

1. Luella

Chapter 1

Luella

T he evening glow slips easily through the curtains, interrupting the quiet room. I sit in silence at my mother’s old dresser, gently running my thumb over the worn wood. This room had always been my happy place before it had framed the worst of all my memories—the nights where my sister, Sophia, would come to me, bruised and trembling, after another encounter with him .

My skin crawls at the thought of him, of his cruel face and glare.

Sophia had been bright. She was the kind of person whose laughter could fill a room in seconds, but no amount of light was enough to save her when he came into our lives.

Xavier Blackwood.

The man who wrecked us.

I gently rearrange the few things still left here: an old perfume bottle, a cracked picture frame, and that familiar drawing of Sophia, her smile frozen in charcoal strokes. She might have healed on the outside, but the internal scars never did—and neither did mine.

It’s her smile that haunts me. It’s her smile I will never see again because of the one man who’d ruined everything. Xavier Blackwood had taken all that was good in our world and left behind only wreckage...broken souls and fragmented memories filled with nightmares.

And now, as I play with the locket that I wear around my neck—inside it, Sophia’s photograph—I can’t stop the image of him from crawling back into my thoughts.

The hatred I have for him fucks with me in ways I can never put into words. He took my sister’s life, and for that, I will take his in the most horrific way possible. His blood will cleanse the dirt he’d rubbed into her skin; I’ll wear it as a cloak against the darkness that spills from his body.

Xavier Blackwood will pay for what he did. I repeat this mantra in my head as the sharp scissors slice through my thick chestnut hair. It falls to the floor in clumps, but somehow, it’s liberating. I’m shedding my hair, my identity. More importantly, I don’t want to hide all this hair beneath a wig. When my hair is short enough, I reach for the bleach. My eyes look wild in the reflection of the mirror, and I take a deep breath.

“For you, Sophia.”

Two hours later, I stand and check my reflection in the small mirror; the face that stares back seems foreign to me. My hair is ice white thanks to the toner, and even though I did it myself, it doesn’t look too bad in the bob I carved out. Carefully rehearsing a smile, I mutter, “Mary,” testing out the echo of my new name on my lips. It sounds hollow.

“Mary,” I say again softly, playing the part that will eventually lead me to my revenge.

The job at the manor came up six weeks ago, and it felt like fate itself was calling me into battle. Xavier Blackwood needs a maid.

Of course, he does .

I don’t even want to think about what happened to his last maid. My gut twists.

The man doesn’t even sweep the dust from his soul, let alone his house. I know the estate is a giant, sprawling monstrosity—an old-world relic of his family’s wealth, kept secluded behind gates that reached towards the sky like iron guardians.

A perfect place to bury a secret. A perfect place to get away with murder.

I arrive at the gates with nothing more than a bag in hand and a false set of references crumpled in my pocket. The house looms in the distance, its dark, gothic towers standing in silhouette against the afternoon sky. I’ve imagined this moment a hundred times, but now that I’m standing here, about to embark on my journey of revenge, something gnaws at my insides. Something is telling me it’s dangerous here—fuck, as if I didn’t already know this. But I know what lies ahead, I know what that bastard is capable of.

My hands tremble with a rage I can’t disguise, but I force the smile back on my face, my cheeks aching.

Revenge isn’t something I can taste yet. It’s still a whisper, a dusty concept floating at the back of my mind. But I’ve got patience and determination. That’s what will get me through this. I have to play my part perfectly .

But I can’t shake it. The years of evolution are screaming at me to run and hide because here might just be where I meet my demise.

Something feels...wrong.

I adjust the strap of my simple cotton dress. My skin is cold under the glare of the towering estate as if it has eyes that see through me and straight into my soul.

But I won’t leave until he is dead. Buried or burned, I don’t care. I want to taste the air without his existence tainting it.

A chill crawls up my spine as I grip the iron gate and make my way up the long cobblestone path leading to the wretched house. The sound of my shoes echo in the air, each step reminding me that I am no longer who I was yesterday. Yesterday, I was angry and fueled with desire to seek my revenge.

Today’s girl will kill for the right reasons.

The mustard-colored door creaks open as I approach, revealing a middle-aged woman with severe eyes and high cheekbones. She looks like someone who’s lived her life in the service of people who didn’t deserve it.

That tracks.

“You’re the new maid?” she asks, eyeing me up and down.

I swallow, pushing all connections to my old self deep inside and drawing up the well-practiced timid smile I’d spent the last month perfecting. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Mary,” I say, lowering my eyes as if I have no backbone.

“I see. Follow me,” she instructs curtly before turning on her heel.

I hesitate for a second before stepping inside the house and instantly feel the darkness of the manor embrace me. Empty chandeliers sway gently from the ceiling as though stirred by invisible winds. Paintings of ancestors line the walls, their hollowed eyes following my every step. There is something more than just a sense of old money here. It oozes darkness, as if evil was built into the very foundation.

I shudder.

My heart beats faster in my chest the deeper we walk into its core. I can almost hear Sophia’s whisper, her warning before this all began.

Darkness brings ruin in so many ways, little sister.

This was my ruin.

But I won’t lose myself to it, not yet. That comes later.

The woman introduces herself as Mrs. Wilkens, and it’s only after an agonizing hour that she gives me instructions regarding my duties, along with a boring tour of the mansion.

Tomorrow will be my first real day, but the weight of what stands before me now feels so tiny in comparison to the lifetime of planning and waiting that it had taken to get here. My mind, worn with memories of what Xavier Blackwood did—his cruelty, his delight in breaking Sophia—fuels my rage.

I allow myself a small smile. Tomorrow, I’ll be in his space. I will clean his rooms and touch every surface he claims as his own. I’ll be both invisible and omnipresent in his home, biding my time, getting closer every day to the inevitable.

I always imagined revenge would feel electric—lightning sparking through my veins—but standing here, staring at the reality of what I have committed to, the sensation that takes over is quietly insidious. Darkness settles over me, slow and seeping like a fog creeping across neglected lands under a blood moon.

A sense of foreboding weaves itself so tightly around me that I can hardly breathe.

It’s happening, and it’s fucking exhilarating.

I’m tired of being the girl who runs and hides. It’s time I came to the surface, bringing my demons with me. The sad reality is that I have nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I fear nothing and no one.

The hum of danger beneath the surface of the house thrums in the walls, waiting to reveal itself. Tomorrow, it will begin. Tomorrow, I’ll step closer to Xavier Blackwood.

I wrap my fingers around the handle of the rag in my pocket, embracing my new identity and role.

By the end of this...

I will leave this place in ashes.