Addicted To His Disfigured Secret Lover

Brennen stepped onto the third stair. A draft of air swept through the foyer behind him. A faint, sweet scent of gardenia hit his nose. He stopped dead in his tracks. He whipped around. He stared at the maid in the corner like a panther locking onto prey. Aracely felt his gaze burning into her back. Her fingers gripped the wet rag so hard her knuckles turned white. Her nails bit into her palms. Brennen walked back down the stairs. His face was dark. He didn't believe his nose was lying to him. He reached out. He was going to grab the collar of her uniform and pull her close. The sharp clack of high heels echoed from the second floor. Evelyn rushed down the stairs in a custom designer dress. She wedged herself perfectly between Brennen and the maid. "Darling, you're home." Evelyn said. She wrapped her arms around his bicep. Her voice was sickeningly sweet. Brennen yanked his arm away. He pointed at Aracely, who was shaking with her head down. "Who is this ugly creature? And why does she smell like that?" Evelyn felt a spike of panic pierce her chest, but she quickly masked it, raising her voice so everyone in the grand foyer could hear. "The poor thing was disfigured in a horrific fire, Brennen. That smell is just a cheap, backwater herbal burn ointment made from white cicada flowers. The country folk use it all the time. It has this sickly sweet, fake gardenia stench to it that lingers forever." She pinched her nose delicately, adding a look of exaggerated disgust to sell the lie. Brennen frowned. "Cheap ointment?" His rational mind told him that scent was not medicine. But the idea that he had slept with this monster was too absurd. Aracely played along with Evelyn's lie. She shrank her shoulders and made herself look small and pathetic. Brennen stared at the scene. He felt ridiculous. His insomnia had driven him insane. He actually thought a burned maid was the perfect woman from last night. He waved his hand in disgust. "Keep your charity cases out of my sight, Evelyn. Don't let her dirty my carpets." Evelyn nodded quickly. She turned to Aracely. Her face twisted with malice. "Get to the kitchen and wash the dishes. Now." Aracely picked up her bucket. She kept her head down. She hurried down the hallway toward the servant quarters, making sure to keep her posture hunched and her shoulders curled inward to maintain her pathetic facade. Brennen walked into his massive mahogany study. He fell into his leather chair. He ripped open the top two buttons of his shirt. The lack of sleep crashed over him. His temples throbbed violently. His vision blurred at the edges. Arthur knocked and entered. He placed a glass of warm water and a bottle of strong prescription sleeping pills on the desk. Brennen stared at the white pills. Rage flared in his chest. His body was completely immune to the chemicals now. He closed his eyes. The image of the ugly maid's clear, stubborn eyes flashed in his mind. Those eyes merged perfectly with the feeling of the woman crying in his arms last night. Brennen snapped his eyes open. He grabbed the glass pill bottle. He hurled it across the room. The bottle shattered against the wall. White pills scattered across the floor. Arthur flinched and kept his head down. Brennen breathed heavily. He hated losing control. He hated that a low-class maid was stuck in his head. "Arthur." Brennen said. His voice was like ice. Arthur stopped picking up the glass. "Yes, sir?" "Take that disfigured maid out of the kitchen. Her only job is to clean the hallway outside my study." Arthur looked up in shock. He didn't understand why his boss wanted the ugliest thing in the house right outside his door. Brennen sneered. He didn't explain. He was going to watch her closely. He was going to prove to himself that his instincts were wrong. Down in the kitchen, Aracely was scrubbing a greasy pan. Martha walked in. Her face was cold. She told Aracely about the job transfer. Aracely dried her hands. A cold knot of dread formed in her stomach.