Was Rowan estate wasn't a house.
It was a statement.
We drove through iron gates that opened automatically, down a private road lined with trees that probably cost more than my family's annual income, and pulled up to a sprawling modern mansion that looked like it belonged in an architecture magazine.
Glass. Steel. Clean lines. The kind of minimalist design that screamed "I have so much money I don't need to prove anything."
I'd grown up in apartments with peeling paint and neighbours who fought through thin walls at 2 AM. This was a different planet.
The Maybach stopped in front of the main entrance. The driver, who hadn't spoken a single word during the entire trip, got out and opened my door.
I climbed out, trying not to look as overwhelmed as I felt.
Selene was already at the front door, her heels clicking against the stone pathway. She didn't wait for me. She expected me to follow.
I did.
---
The interior was just as intimidating as the exterior. High ceilings. Marble floors. Abstract art that probably had names I couldn't pronounce. Everything was white, black, or grey. It felt more like a museum than a home.
"She's in the library," Selene said without slowing down. "Third door on the left. I'll give you ten minutes alone with her. If she likes you, we'll discuss terms. If she doesn't, you're wasting both our time."
"Wait." I stopped walking. "You're not staying?"
Selene turned to look at me. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose. "You want me to hold your hand, Elias? You're twenty-one, not twelve. Figure it out."
She walked away before I could respond, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
I stood there for a moment, trying to steady my breathing.
Third door on the left.
I could do this. I'd tutored dozens of students on campus. This was just another spoiled rich kid who needed help with homework.
Except the spoiled rich kids I'd tutored didn't come with mothers who threatened to destroy my entire existence if I stepped out of line.
I walked down the hallway. The third door was slightly open. I could see bookshelves through the gap. Hundreds of them. Floor to ceiling.
I knocked.
No response.
I knocked again.
"It's open." The voice was female. Young. And utterly disinterested.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
---
The library was massive. Two stories of bookshelves connected by a spiral staircase. A huge window overlooked the back of the estate, where I could see a pool and what looked like a tennis court. The furniture was leather. The kind that probably cost more than my tuition.
And sitting in one of the leather chairs, surrounded by books and papers, was Aurelia Selene Rowan.
She didn't look up when I entered.
She was eighteen, according to her mother. She looked younger. Not in a childish way, but in the way that people who'd been protected from the world their entire lives looked. Smooth skin. Long dark hair pulled back in a simple ponytail. She wore a grey sweater and black pants. No jewellery. No makeup that I could see.
She was reading a textbook. Advanced Physics, from what I could make out from the cover.
I cleared my throat. "Hi. I'm Elias."
"You're late." She still didn't look up. "Mother said 3 PM. It's 3:04."
I glanced at my phone. She was right.
"Traffic," I said.
"We have a private driver. There's no traffic on our route." She turned a page. "Try again."
My jaw tightened. "Your mother wanted to brief me before I met you. That took four minutes."
"Better." She finally looked up.
Her eyes were ice blue. The exact opposite of her mother's green. They were sharp. Analytical. The kind of eyes that saw through bullshit before you even opened your mouth.
"Sit," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her. "Let's get this over with."
I sat.
She closed her textbook and folded her hands in her lap. "You're the seventh tutor my mother has hired this year. The last one quit after three days. The one before that lasted a week. The one before that cried."
"Why?"
"Because I don't tolerate incompetence. If you can't explain something clearly, if you waste my time with busywork, if you talk down to me because you assume I'm just another rich girl coasting on daddy's money, I'll make your life miserable until you quit." She tilted her head slightly. "Still interested?"
I should've said no. I should've walked out right then and saved myself the headache.
But I thought about the $500 a week. I thought about the eviction notice.
"I'm interested," I said.
"Good. Let's start with a test." She reached behind her and pulled out a laptop. "I'm going to give you a coding problem. You have ten minutes to solve it. If you can't, this interview is over."
She turned the laptop toward me.
The screen showed a complex algorithm problem. Something involving recursive functions and optimisation. It was the kind of problem that would take most people half an hour just to understand, let alone solve.
I looked at the clock on the screen. Ten minutes.
"Starting now," Aurelia said.
---
I'd always been good at coding. Not because I loved it, necessarily, but because it made sense. Logic. Patterns. Problems with clear solutions. It was the one thing in my life that didn't feel like chaos.
My fingers moved across the keyboard. I broke the problem down in my head. Identified the base case. Mapped out the recursive calls. Optimised where I could.
Seven minutes later, I hit enter.
The program ran. No errors.
Aurelia leaned forward and looked at the screen. Her expression didn't change.
"Interesting," she said.
"Did I pass?"
"You didn't fail." She closed the laptop. "Most people don't even understand the problem in ten minutes, let alone solve it. You solved it in seven and optimised the space complexity. That's unusual."
"Is it unusually good or bad?"
"It means you're not an idiot." She stood and walked over to one of the bookshelves. "But intelligence isn't enough. I need someone who can explain concepts without making me feel like I'm being lectured. I need someone who won't waste my time. And I need someone who won't try to be my friend."
"I'm not here to be your friend," I said. "I'm here to help you learn."
"Good. Because I don't have friends. I don't want friends. I want results." She pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to me. "Introduction to Business Strategy. I'm working through this for my own education. I want to understand how corporate structures work. My mother refuses to teach me because she thinks I'm too young. Prove her wrong."
I opened the book. Skimmed a few pages. It was dense. Graduate-level material.
"When do you want to start?" I asked.
"Tomorrow. 3 PM. Don't be late."
"I won't."
She walked back to her chair and picked up her physics textbook. "You can leave now."
I stood. "Is there anything else I should know?"
She looked up at me. For the first time, something shifted in her expression. Not warmth, exactly. But something close to curiosity.
"You're different from the others," she said.
"How?"
"You're not trying to impress me. You're not pretending to care. You're just... here." She paused. "I appreciate honesty. Even if it's driven by desperation."
My stomach twisted. "Your mother told you?"
"She tells me everything." Aurelia's gaze didn't waver. "She thinks I don't notice, but I do. She researches everyone who comes into our lives. I know about your eviction notice. I know about your family's financial situation. I know you're here because you need the money, not because you want to teach some sheltered rich girl who's never stepped foot in a real school."
I didn't know what to say.
"I don't blame you," she continued. "Survival is logical. And honestly, I prefer it this way. At least I know you won't waste my time pretending we're going to bond over shared interests or whatever nonsense the other tutors tried."
"We won't," I said.
"Good." She went back to her book. "Close the door on your way out."
I left.
---
Selene was waiting in the hallway.
"Well?" she asked.
"She wants me to start tomorrow."
Selene's smile was sharp. "I told you she'd like you. She respects competence. And fear."
"I'm not afraid of her."
"You should be. She's smarter than both of us combined, and she knows it." Selene started walking, and I followed. "Let's discuss terms in my office."
We walked through the mansion in silence. Selene's office was on the second floor, overlooking the front of the estate. It was just as minimalist as the rest of the house. A massive desk. A leather chair. Floor-to-ceiling windows.
She sat behind the desk. I stayed standing.
"$500 a week," she said. "Cash. Paid every Friday. Three to six PM on weekdays. Weekends as needed, which I'll notify you about in advance. You'll focus on computer science, mathematics, and business strategy. If she requests additional subjects, you'll accommodate or find resources."
I nodded.
"In addition," Selene continued, pulling out a folder from her desk drawer, "you'll sign this." She slid the folder across the desk.
I opened it.
It was a non-disclosure agreement. Pages of legal text that basically said if I told anyone anything about the Rowan family, I'd be sued into oblivion.
"This is standard," Selene said. "We value our privacy."
I skimmed the document. It was airtight. No loopholes. No escape clauses.
"Do I need a lawyer to look at this?"
"Do you have a lawyer?"
"No."
"Then I suggest you trust that I'm not trying to screw you. I'm trying to protect my daughter." Selene's voice hardened. "Sign it or don't. But if you don't, this conversation is over."
I picked up the pen on the desk.
I thought about my mother crying. My father is yelling. Marcus and Caleb are pretending to sleep.
I signed.
Selene took the document, glanced at it, and filed it away. Then she pulled out an envelope and handed it to me.
"Your first week's payment. In advance."
I opened the envelope. Five hundred-dollar bills.
I'd never held that much cash in my life.
"Thank you," I managed.
"Don't thank me. Earn it." Selene stood. "Marcus will driveve you back to campus. Same time tomorrow. And Elias?"
"Yes?"
Her green eyes locked onto mine. "Remember what I said in the car. Professional boundaries. Always."
"I remember."
"Good. Because I meant every word."
---
The drive back to campus was a blur.
I sat in the back of the Maybach, the envelope of cash in my jacket pocket, and tried to process what had just happened.
I had a job. A real job. $500 a week.
That was $2,000 a month. That was rent. That was food. That was the difference between my family being on the street or having a roof over their heads.
But it came with strings.
Selene's threat echoed in my head. *If you touch her, I will destroy you.*
I wasn't planning on touching Aurelia. I wasn't planning on doing anything except teaching her and collecting my paycheck.
But there was something about the way Selene had looked at me. Something predatory. Like she was waiting for me to make a mistake.
And something about the way Aurelia had looked at me too. Not predatory. Just... curious.
Like I was a puzzle she wanted to solve.
The Maybach pulled up to the library entrance. The driver opened my door without a word.
I got out.
My phone buzzed. A text from Jake.
**Jake:** *Dude, are you alive? It's 5:30. You said to call the cops if you didn't text by 6.*
I texted back.
**Me:** *I'm alive. Got the job. Tell you later.*
I walked back to my dorm, the envelope of cash burning a hole in my pocket.
When I got to my room, I locked the door, sat on my bed, and counted the money.
Five hundred dollars.
It felt like a fortune and a trap at the same time.
I pulled out my phone and texted my mother.
**Me:** *Got a tutoring job. $500/week. I can cover rent this month.*
Her response came almost immediately.
**Mom:** *Oh thank God. Thank you, Elias. Thank you so much.*
I stared at the screen.
I should've felt relieved. I should've felt proud.
Instead, I felt like I'd just sold something I couldn't get back.
But I didn't know what.
Not yet.