Chapter 3
The Prey
The next day, I decided to skip the first class.
I exited the taxi, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves.
“Thank you.”
But instead of a friendly response, he waved his hand dismissively before snatching the bills from my fingers. Rude much.
Shrugging off the cold—both literal and figurative—I focused on the only thing that mattered. Ten thousand dollars.
I checked the location Kyle sent and frowned. The mansion sat far beyond the city, buried in a stretch of forest with no neighbouring houses, but a single estate isolated beneath a blanket of snow.
A knot tightened in my stomach.
As the taxi disappeared down the road behind me, silence swallowed everything. Only the wind weaving through the trees.
I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and a shiver down my spine at the sight. Seriously, who in their right mind would pick a place like this to live?
It was breath-taking, but a bit creepy with the large mansion and trees surrounding it.
“Hello?!” I called out, looking through the gaps between the rails. When no one came, I pulled out my phone and dialled Kyle’s number. Jeez.
He picked it up after two rings. “I’m at the gate,” I said in broken Russian, probably saying in instead of at.
He didn’t even say anything before the line went dead. I stared at my phone, blinking. “...Did he just hang up on me?”
I looked at the screen like it had personally betrayed me. Was that... a rejection? Before I even got the chance to introduce myself?
No. No, that couldn’t be it. He’d told me to come here. Surely he hadn’t lured me across half the city just to ghost me.
“Ms. Rosewood.” A shriek nearly escaped me as I spun around.
“For the love of—”
A man stood behind me, sheltered beneath a black umbrella as though he’d spun out of the snow itself. He had a military buzz cut and wore a tailored black suit, not a single hint of color breaking the monochrome.
I swallowed.
“Oh... hi,” I said weakly, instinctively taking a step back.
He tilted the umbrella just enough for me to see his face clearly. “Kyle Molotov.”
Right.
Suppressing another nervous swallow, I forced a smile and held out my hand.
“S-Seraphina Rosewood,” I said, cursing the slight tremor in my voice.
His eyes flicked down to my hand and then back up to meet mine, but something was unsettling in his stare. “You’re not Russian,” he commented with a hint of disbelief. I swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in my stomach. My hold on the bag tightened.
“No.”
He responded tersely with a nod, as he gave me a thorough look up and down, making me squirm under his scrutiny.
Summoning up every ounce of courage, I forced a smile.
“But I can understand Russian very well.” I blurted out the lie, cringing inwardly at the sound of my own voice, which resembled a dying hyena more than a confident job applicant.
He had better not reject me, because if he did, I’d start crying. I needed this damn job.
“Language is not a problem, Ms. Rosewood,” Kyle motioned towards the gates. “You can come in.”
I nodded and followed him through the wrought-iron gates.
The estate was unnervingly still, the snow untouched except for our footprints. My attention snagged on the enormous marble statue standing at the center of the lawn. As we drew closer, my stomach tightened.
It was of a woman. Her face was frozen in silent terror while a marble serpent coiled around her body, its scaled length winding from her waist to her throat. Its fangs hovered just beneath her jaw, as though one more heartbeat was all it needed to strike.
For one irrational second... I could’ve sworn it was watching me.
I tore my gaze away. Who willingly put something so unsettling in their front yard?
Then again, rich people decorated with things I could never hope to understand. If he wanted a giant naked woman being strangled by a snake, who was I to judge? I was here for ten thousand dollars, not an art critique.
Kyle led me up the marble steps. The massive doors opened, and I stepped inside.
Holy... mother of good lord.
Crystal chandeliers spilled warm light over polished marble floors. A sweeping staircase curved toward the second floor, while paintings, sculptures, and antiques that probably cost more than my entire existence filled every corner.
Yeah.
If I lived here, I’d never leave the house.
“Please wait here.”
I absently nodded, too busy gawking to respond. Kyle disappeared down a hallway, leaving me alone with enough luxury to make me afraid to breathe on anything.
The place looked like it belonged in a historical drama. The carpet alone probably cost more than my entire bloodline.
After a minute, Kyle returned—minus the umbrella.
He climbed the staircase with the same rigid composure, his broad shoulders stretching beneath the black suit. Stopping beside me, he gave a polite nod.
“You can come with me.”
I followed, trying very hard not to look like someone who’d never set foot in a mansion before. Excitement fizzed beneath my ribs.
“How old is the child?” I asked.
The advertisement had only mentioned a caretaker. Nothing else. I’d assumed the owners were wealthy parents who needed help to look after their kid.
Not exactly my field of expertise.
But for ten thousand dollars?
I was willing to become Mary Poppins overnight.
Kyle was quiet for a beat before answering. “He can walk.”
Something about the careful way he said it made me glance at him.
“Oh, good.” I let out a relieved breath. “Toddlers can be little gremlins.”
Silence. “...What’s his name?”
Kyle rounded another corner, forcing me to quicken my pace to keep up with his ridiculously long legs.
“Judas.”
“Judas...” I repeated. “Sounds familiar.”
“It should.”
I frowned. “I hope he’s nice.”
A quiet chuckle escaped him. “Very.”
It was the first hint of emotion I’d seen from him, and somehow it made me even more uneasy. It didn’t sound amused.
It sounded... ironic.
Before I could ask what he meant, Kyle stopped outside a pair of towering double doors.
He turned to face me. “Before you go in, Ms. Rosewood, there are a few rules.” The warmth vanished from his voice. “The person inside this room is the one you’ll be taking care of.” He held my gaze. “Following an accident, he has severely impaired vision. He cannot see.”
My heart sank. Blind?
“And one more thing.” His expression hardened. “Whatever happens in that room...” A deliberate pause. “...stays in that room.” His eyes locked onto mine. “Are we clear, Ms. Rosewood?”
The poor kid. He’d never see the snow outside. The sunrise. His own reflection. The thought alone was enough to make my heart twist. I swallowed the lump in my throat. No wonder they needed a caretaker. A quiet determination settled over me.
“I understand,” I said, nodding with more conviction than I’d intended.
If this child needed someone to make his world a little less lonely... I’d do everything I could.
Kyle gave me one of his unreadable nods before knocking twice.
“She’s here,” he said in Russian. A beat of silence.
“Let her in.”
The voice on the other side sent goosebumps racing down my arms. It was deep and rough with sleep. Definitely not a child’s.
I blinked.
“Go in,” Kyle stepped away from the door and bobbed his head. “The child is in,”
Every instinct suddenly screamed at me not to walk through that door. Maybe I’d misunderstood. Maybe Kyle had meant someone young. Because the voice I’d just heard didn’t belong to a child.
Unless this kid had somehow gone through puberty at the speed of light.
Too late to back out now.
Ten thousand dollars.
That was all I needed to remember.
I stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind me. I nearly jumped.
The room was dimly lit and larger than I’d expected. As I stepped more into the room, I noticed it was split between a luxurious office and a private sitting area.
The scent hit me instantly. Leather and tobacco. And beneath it all... Oud.
It reminded me of the woods behind our house in Texas—the ones Mama had always warned me never to wander into.
Because forests looked beautiful from a distance. Until you realized something was watching you from between the trees.
Something shifted at the edge of my vision. I stilled, tightening my grip on my bag. Despite the new glasses, my eyes still struggled to adjust. I nudged the frames higher on my nose, feeling a strong presence that quickly grabbed my attention.
A dark silhouette of a man sat on a leather sofa with one ankle resting over his knee, half-drowned in amber lamplight. For a heartbeat, he looked like one of the statues.
My pulse stumbled as I limped another step closer; the light finally reached his face.
His mouth curved into the faintest smile, and I noticed a cigar in his hand.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking into the cave of a wild beast. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if this man suddenly kill me.
And to my dismay, or whatever we call it, there was no child in the room. I started to believe that Kyle lied to me because this man was definitely looking directly at me. Therefore, he couldn’t be blind. His eyes were anything but unwavering. He appeared anything but vulnerable.
I stopped about ten steps away, a coffee table acting as a safe little border between us.
He took a drag from his cigarette before exhaling slowly. Smoke curled around him, swallowing his frame until he looked less like a man and more like something lurking in the dark.
I wasn’t usually one to judge people by appearances.
But this one looked like he’d been handcrafted by my mother’s worst nightmares.
Carefully adjusting my glasses higher on my nose, I shifted my weight off my aching ankle and reached for the chair.
“Come closer.”
The command, spoken in flawless English, froze me halfway down.
Slowly, I looked up.
He leaned back against the couch, one arm stretched lazily along the backrest, eyes closed as though I wasn’t worth looking at.
I frowned, glancing around the room just to make sure there wasn’t another unfortunate soul hiding behind me.
Nope. Just me. Wonderful.