Chapter 7 Breakfast Tensions

ELIZA'S POV

The next morning, I woke up to the strange feeling of being watched.

When I finally cracked my eyes open, I found myself staring into the dark, curious eyes of Tilly.

I lay there for several moments, watching the girl as she watched me, wondering when she had gotten into the room.

She was half atop me, her elbow digging into the skin of my upper torso where she had planted it, her hands cupping her cheeks.

“Did you sleep well?” I asked when I could no longer handle the silent staring competition.

“I had a bad dream,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

I blinked the last vestiges of sleep away and sat up, pulling her gently away from my body, and placing her on the bed beside me.

“What did you dream about?” I asked.

Wasn’t she supposed to go to her mom about this?

“The bad man. He… he was trying to get me,” she whispered fearfully, edging closer to me.

I turned so I was facing her, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“It’s just a dream, okay? The bad man won’t get to you.”

“Promise?” she asked in a tiny voice, her big doe eyes staring hopefully into mine.

Guilt nicked at me, and I wondered whether I was the reason she was having nightmares.

Last night, on a day that was supposed to be her happiest, I had staged a kidnap that must have completely rattled her.

Was I to be blamed for Vinton Crost’s daughter’s bad dream?

“I promise. I won’t let the bad man get you,” I said quietly, rubbing her soft, chubby cheeks comfortingly.

Tilly jumped into my arms, wrapping her tiny arms around me in a tight hug.

“Thank you, Nan.”

I smiled despite myself and wrapped my arms around her small body, hugging her back.

“My name is Eliza,” I said softly. “But my friends call me Liza.”

She nodded against my shoulder, still not letting go.

As I held the little girl in my arms, a terrifying sense of protectiveness wrapped itself around my heart, and I realized I had meant what I said.

I was going to protect her at all costs, even though her sweet little daddy was still going to pay for what he had done to me and for the loss his heartlessness had caused.

The door was suddenly pushed open with a bang, and I turned to find Anna at the doorway, looking furious.

Tilly turned, and upon seeing her mother, jumped off the bed and ran to wrap her arms around her.

“Mommy!” she cried. “I had a bad dream.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” Anna said, patting her daughter’s back fondly and flashing her a sweet smile. “Why don’t you go downstairs? Breakfast is almost ready. We can talk all about your dream at breakfast, all right?”

Tilly looked a little sad but nodded. She stepped away from her mother and made her way out of the room.

As soon as the little girl was out of earshot, Anna turned to me, her eyes acid-sharp.

She was already dressed in a mocha silk dress, her hair brushed to perfection and falling in careful waves over her shoulders.

“You weren’t hired to lie around and be lazy. Get up and make yourself useful.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her, wondering where she found the motivation to be so bitchy so early in the morning.

“Are you deaf?” she asked coldly.

“Good morning to you too, Mrs. Crost.”

“The next time you lie around in bed until my daughter wakes up first, you’ll be fired.”

She stepped further into the room and looked me over, her eyes filled with utter disdain.

“Did I not tell you that my daughter was never to see those dirty tattoos?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Crost,” I replied calmly. “I didn’t know your daughter was going to come to me so early about her bad dream. I’ll purchase a floor-length dress today to make sure I don’t show any skin.”

“You think this is funny?”

“I only think that I’m willing to do anything to keep my job, Mrs. Crost.”

With a huff, Anna Crost walked out of my room.

I went ahead and finished my morning ablutions, then pulled on long skinny jeans and a long-sleeved top.

Even though I very much wanted to piss off Anna Crost, I wanted to keep this job even more.

When I went downstairs, I found the family already seated for breakfast, the cook waiting patiently by the side to serve.

My eyes locked on Vinton Crost, who sat at the head of the table. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and perfectly pressed trousers, and even though his suspenders were absent today today, he still looked devastatingly good.

I wasn't supposed to notice that.

“Good morning, Mr. Crost,” I greeted as I pulled out a chair and sat.

“You’re late,” he clipped, irritation filling his eyes.

Had they been waiting for me?

“She looks like she’s spent her entire life being tardy,” Anna mocked.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Crost. I’m still adjusting to my new environment. It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he grunted.

He signaled the cook to proceed, and I watched as the middle-aged woman uncovered the silver cloche. The smell of toast and scrambled eggs filled the room.

My stomach growled loudly, and my cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink.

I avoided everyone’s eyes, fully aware of the attention on me.

“My stomach makes noise sometimes,” Tilly suddenly piped up. “Mummy always says it’s just a signal that it’s time to eat.”

“Honey, other times it could be a sign of lack and starvation,” Anna said coolly. “We don’t really know the reason here.”

Her words cut deep, and my hands shook with anger, but I forced myself to remain calm.

“Maybe she just forgot to eat, like daddy does sometimes,” Tilly said in her sweet, innocent voice.

This time, I looked up at Mr. Crost, who was frowning at his perfectly plated soft scrambled eggs and lightly buttered toast.

I smirked inwardly. At least I wasn’t the only one uncomfortable at the breakfast table.

“Maybe we should all just focus on filling our stomachs, ehn?" Mr Vinton said.

As everyone began to eat, I realized I needed access to the kitchen and many other areas of the house.

More than that, I needed Anna Crost, who clearly didn’t like me, to trust me.

It was the only way I was going to get my sweet, long-awaited revenge.