***
The staff dining hall was buzzing with conversation and the clatter of dishes. About fifteen people were gathered around tables, eating and talking, the atmosphere surprisingly relaxed.
Lucy guided her to a table where a few other younger staff members sat. "Everyone, this is Sarah! Sarah, this is Maria and Chen housekeepers like us and that's David and Tom from groundskeeping."
Friendly nods and welcomes. Aria slipped into the role easily, asking questions about how long they'd worked here, what the family was like, keeping her curiosity carefully casual.
"The Blackwoods are actually pretty decent," Maria said. She was older than Aria by maybe five years, with the air of someone who'd seen a lot. "As long as you follow the rules and don't cause drama. Mr. Blackwood especially he's fair but he doesn't tolerate incompetence or indiscretion."
"He's also fucking scary," Tom added. "Like, I've seen him completely destroy business partners with just words. Ice cold. Ruthless."
"But he treats staff well," Maria countered. "Better than a lot of wealthy families I've heard about. Good pay, reasonable time off, actual healthcare benefits. As long as you do your job and stay in your lane, it's a good gig."
"What about his personal life?" Aria asked, trying to sound like she was just making conversation. "Is he dating anyone?"
"Not that we know of," Lucy said. "There's Victoria Ashford she's around sometimes, and they have history. But Mr. Blackwood doesn't really do relationships. At least not public ones."
"Too busy building his empire," David said. "The man works like, eighteen-hour days. I don't think I've ever seen him take a vacation."
The conversation drifted to other topics upcoming estate events, gossip about other wealthy families, complaints about James the butler's rigid standards.
Aria participated just enough to seem friendly without drawing too much attention. All the while, her mind was working through the information she'd gathered today.
The layout of the third floor. The location of Damien's study. The fact that security on the upper floors seemed less intensive than the ground floor probably because staff rarely went up there.
And most importantly: she now knew that Damien's schedule was predictable. Long work hours meant he'd be occupied, distracted. Less likely to notice if someone was moving through areas they shouldn't be.
Stop planning, she told herself. It's day one. You need to establish yourself as trustworthy first. Rushing will only get you caught.
But time was ticking. Her mother was in the ICU. Every day mattered.
After dinner, Aria excused herself and returned to her room. She needed to video call Marcus her friend who was checking on her mother but she couldn't risk it from the estate.
Too many cameras. Too many ways to be monitored.
She'd have to wait until Sunday. Until her day off when she could leave the grounds and use her real phone freely.
Four more days.
She could do this. She just had to be patient. Careful. Smart.
A notification popped up on her Sarah Mitchell phone an email from Mrs. Chen with tomorrow's schedule.
Sarah - tomorrow you'll be assigned to Mr. Blackwood's quarters. He has specifically requested you for bedroom service. Please report to his suite at 7 AM. - E.C.
Aria read it three times, her heart pounding.
His quarters. His bedroom.
The most private space in the house.
This was either an incredible opportunity or a very deliberate trap.
She typed back a professional response: Thank you for letting me know. I'll be there promptly at 7 AM.
Then she lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing.
Why was Damien Blackwood giving her this much access so quickly? Why was he personally requesting her when there were more experienced staff members available?
Maybe he's just particular, she tried to convince herself. Maybe he liked that I was punctual today. That I followed instructions precisely.
But she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. That every interaction with him felt like a move in a game she didn't fully understand.
The way he'd looked at her. The way he'd asked about what she was running from. The way he'd said her fake name with that subtle emphasis.
"You are many things. But forgettable isn't one of them."
What did that mean?
Aria pulled out her laptop the one she used for hacking, carefully shielded and encrypted and pulled up everything she'd compiled on Damien Blackwood.
His business dealings were aggressive but legal. His reputation was fearsome but fair. He'd taken over the company from his grandfather and transformed it into something even more powerful.
But his personal life was a mystery. No serious relationships on record. A few rumored affairs with socialites that never went anywhere. No scandals, no weaknesses, no obvious vulnerabilities.
He was careful. Controlled. Always ten steps ahead.
Just like me, Aria thought.
Which meant this was going to be a battle of wits as much as anything else. Two people who excelled at reading others, at staying ahead, at maintaining control.
She just had to make sure she stayed ahead of him. Had to make sure she got what she needed before he figured out who she really was and what she was really after.
Four weeks, she told herself. You just need to last four weeks. Find the plant. Get a viable cutting. Get out.
Simple.
Except nothing about Damien Blackwood felt simple.
And tomorrow, she'd be in his bedroom.
Alone with him in the most intimate space a person had.
Aria closed her laptop and tried to sleep, but her dreams were filled with gray eyes and locked doors and the feeling of being watched by someone who saw far too much.
When her alarm went off at 5 AM the next morning, she woke with her heart already racing and the certainty that today was going to change everything.
She just didn't know how yet.