Chapter 4 The Devil's Doorstep

Jordan’s Point of View  

“Are you Jordan Carter?” The beautiful green-eyed woman asked as she opened the door. I stumbled back on reflex; there was something about that color that scared the shit out of me.  

Maybe because I believed if the devil had a color, it would be exactly that shade—just like Killian’s cold and lifeless eyes.  

“Yes, I am,” I answered politely, and only then did a smile reach her face. She opened the large door wider to let me in. 

   The moment I stepped inside, cold air from the vent wrapped me up. I thought I was going to work for a middle-class family, but getting into the five-bedroom bungalow, I realized that she was actually high-class.  

My eyes flickered around the expensive interior of the house; the scent of leather, fine wood, and luxurious marble filled my nose. I had only ever seen houses this beautiful on television. 

“Welcome to my home, Jordan.” She smiled as she led me further into the living room. “My name is Benita.”  

“You have a lovely house, Mrs. Benita,” I confessed.  

“Thank you so much,” we neared the expensive sofa set, deep, rich, and luxurious, in navy blue, a color that matched the curtains. “Please have a seat.”  

“Thank you,” I eased myself into one of the sofas, and just as I expected, it was so soft. My head whipped around, my eyes greedily trying to see everything.  

“Do you mind tea or coffee?” She asked, and almost immediately, I shook my head.  

“No, don’t bother yourself, ma’am, but thanks for asking,” I answered with a small smile, I would like to have the job instead.  

“So, dear, tell me about yourself,” She asked curiously. 

“My name is Jordan, I’m eighteen, and I need a job.” I was brief. 

“Is there any reason why you need to have a live-in position?” She probed, and I paused, because I couldn’t tell her that I’m being abused and I’m trying to run away from home.  

“I want to concentrate on work better.” I lied.  

“Are you in school?”  

“Yes, I do, I’m in 12th grade now,” I answered hesitantly, and she shifted in her seat; her eyes were pure, clear, and bright.  

“You’re a senior, just like my son.” She smirked as she continued. “So, the reason I’m looking to have a maid is that I’m going on a business trip that I can’t avoid. I’ll spend three months in Spain. I have three children, and the oldest is a senior just like you.”  

Her eyebrows furrowed together, and she sighed, “He is a headache, but he is not the one I’m worried for—it’s his younger siblings, Kole is twelve, and Kara is seven—I need someone I can trust to take care of my babies.”  

“You can trust me with your babies,” I assured her. “I’m pretty good at housekeeping. I helped my aunt raise two of her boys.”  

“Can you drive?” She asked curiously, and I shook my head, a little worried that I might not be hired because I lacked driving skills. “But I have other skills that can make up for driving.”  

She leaned back. 

“I have always had to drive my babies to school,” She massaged her temple. “That was the reason I didn’t want a teenager.”  

“I will figure out a way to get them to school, please. I need this job; I promise not to let you down.” I begged.  

“Sorry, but what school do you attend?” She asked again.  

“I attend Hillary Lockwood’s High School, but I’m a scholarship student.” Her body jolted forward almost immediately.  

“You attend Hillary Lockwood?” She asked with a happy smile hanging at the edge of her lips, and I nodded. “That’s wonderful, my oldest son attends the school too.”  

My eyebrows tugged up, and my mouth went dry. 

That isn’t the kind of news I wanted to hear, but as long as he is someone that I didn’t know, then I guess I can manage.  

“You know what, I like you already,” She waved off the rest of her question. “The founder of the school is my uncle, and I know how strict the school screening process is.”  

The school’s screening process was only strict when it came to poor scholarship students like me; every other person seemed to have a few screws loose in their heads.  

People like Killian. 

“Does that mean I’m hired?” I asked in disbelief, and she nodded, “Oh my God! Really? Even though I don’t know how to drive?” 

“I’ll hire a driver, but you have to go with them to school every morning.” She sighed. “They can be a little mischievous, so I need to be certain they are in safe hands.”  

My hands shot out to grab hers. “I promise you they are,” I blurted out. “I will look after them like they are mine.”  

Benita laughed.  

“Just go through the employment contract, and you can start tomorrow.” She reached for the envelope on the table and handed the document to me.  

“Read to see if it suits what you’re looking for, and also, it is a non-disclosure agreement.” My eyebrow snapped up. “This has to do with my oldest son, and his public image, but whatever happens here has to remain here—I can’t explain explicitly right now, but when you meet him, you’ll understand.”  

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered. “The privacy of my clients matters a lot to me; I’ll be sure to keep my mouth shut.”  

I skidded through the pages, my feet tapping aggressively against the well-polished floor. The terms of the employment seemed quite fair, and my eyes narrowed at the proposed amount.  

Five Thousand Dollars per month.  

I blinked hard, thinking the figure might vanish, but it didn’t. My eyes darted towards Benita, and she smiled.  

There is no way I’m leaving such a golden opportunity. I don’t care what her children are like; I will do it.  

“I agree,” I blurted and reached for the pen,  ready to sign, when my eyes darted towards the employer’s full name.  

Benita Maddox.  

My eyes narrowed.  

Maddox.  

No, it can’t be, the name is pretty common.  

My heart stopped in my chest when I remembered when she said that she had a son in my school, but that son couldn’t possibly be HIM, right? 

I mean, this woman feels so warm, like an angel, and the way she speaks so politely despite being very rich, there was no way she would be the mother of that demon.  

I’m certain it’s not the Maddox I know.  

Tossing out the fear, I signed my name, wrote the date, and outstretched my hands for a shake. 

Benita took it with a laugh, probably at my silliness. 

Then we heard the sounds of the door unlocking, and my eyes darted towards the front door. 

“Oh!” Her eyebrows jumped up. “Perfect timing, I think Kill is here, I'd better introduce you two.”  

Kill? A knot formed in my stomach.    

“Excuse me, did you just say Kill?” I pulled her back, and she blinked at me in confusion, so I decided to rephrase my question. “Does Kill stand for Killian?”  

“You know my son?” She asked, and bile rose to my throat.  

No… no… of all the people it could be.  

Why Killian Maddox?  

Why?  

Killian stepped inside the living room, imposingly tall and devastatingly handsome. The moment his eyes met mine, a flash of surprise crossed his face, and his jaw locked.  

“You.” He pointed at me with his head cocked to the side, as if trying to assess me properly.  

“Killian…” Benita walked towards him. “You know Jordan?”  

A nervous smile curled on my face, and I even dared to wave politely at him.  

I cannot let Benita find out that I don’t get along with her son.  

Killian’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at me. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” He muttered. “What is going on here, Mom?”  

“She is the new live-in maid.” She said cheerfully. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow. I need someone I can trust with your siblings.” 

“And of all the people you could hire, you chose her?”  

“Hello, Killian,” I said, feigning confidence. “It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”  

 Killian’s lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk, and I knew this might be it for me.