Chapter 3
Tyra pointed at me, her voice trembling. "She's the one who went in. I told her not to, but she wouldn't listen."
Her attempt to drag me down with her caught me completely off guard. Honestly, I was terrified Stanley might just toss me into the basement.
Stanley glanced my way, a teasing smirk on his lips.
"Was it you?" he asked.
"No, it wasn't me," I blurted, shaking my head frantically.
Stanley laughed softly at how frightened I looked and muttered under his breath, "What a little scaredy-cat."
I ducked my head even lower, half-expecting him to lop it right off.
Serving Stanley was like waiting on a king. One wrong move and I was finished.
Suddenly, Stanley turned his icy gaze back to Tyra.
"You really think I can't smell it on you?" he said, his voice cold.
Tyra totally panicked. Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked like she'd been wrongly accused. It was the kind of look that would make most guys ache for her.
"I wandered in by mistake," she sniffled. "Victoria never warned me while I was tidying up."
Tyra had finally learned to cover her tracks by throwing me under the bus.
Her voice trembled so convincingly that even I almost felt sorry for her.
All I could do was mumble, "I wasn't thinking clearly."
Stanley moved closer, and then he reached out.
Instinctively, I flinched back as if he were about to shoot me.
But he just flicked me lightly on the forehead.
I stood there dazed, clutching the spot.
Stanley chuckled, "That's your punishment."
Honestly, when Stanley flashed that devilish smirk, he was kind of irresistible. For a second there, I almost fell for it.
Noticing she was being ignored, Tyra stepped forward with that wounded-puppy look. "It's all my fault, really. Please don't blame Victoria. She just got distracted for a second."
Tyra was such an attention-seeker, always jumping in to make sure all eyes were on her.
Stanley shot her a glare that could freeze hell over.
Without a word, he glanced toward the butler, David Yanez, across the room.
David understood immediately. He stepped forward and slapped Tyra squarely across the face.
The sound echoed through the room.
Tyra staggered, her pale cheek flushing bright red. She clutched her face, sobbing quietly.
Her white dress was damp with tears.
But no one was rushing to comfort this fragile girl.
Tyra stood rooted to the spot, refusing to move. She stared up at Stanley with red eyes, clearly hoping he'd come to her rescue.
But Stanley wasn't having any of it.
In the end, I was the one who led Tyra away.
Just before I left, David stopped me. His hair was pure white, but his smile was gentle.
He handed me a small pouch of ointment.
"For Tyra?" I asked.
He simply shook his head, smiling, and pointed at my bandaged hand.
I was surprised anyone had noticed. I thanked David, but he just shook his head again.
Still not quite understanding, I thanked him for his kindness and headed back.
When I returned, Tyra was having a full-blown meltdown in the room.
She'd thrown all my things everywhere. The place was a wreck, with hardly any space to stand.
"How dare that old man hit me?" she screamed. "Stanley would never punish me. He must like me. Just wait till I make David pay!"
When I stayed silent, she hurled a cup at me in frustration.
"I'm going to make Stanley kick every last one of you out!" she shouted.
I dodged the shattering porcelain and ignored her tantrum.
But the next day, she came to me with a beaming smile.
It seemed that she was about to ask for something sketchy.
"Do you know where to get something that'll... make Stanley lose his mind?" she asked, lowering her voice.
Tyra kept complaining that winning him over was taking too long.
She was ready to just drag him to bed. Surely he wouldn't be able to resist.
After working here for so long, I'd built a few connections. Getting something like that wasn't hard.
Stanley saw me as timid, but Tyra was the opposite, recklessly brave, almost stupidly fearless.
She was practically glowing with excitement, so I just scribbled a couple of numbers on paper and handed it to her.
I wasn't about to get tangled in this mess.
Tyra moved fast. She got what she needed that very night.
She poured a heavy dose right into Stanley's cup.
I didn't bother warning her what would happen if she tried to climb into his bed.
Not that it would've mattered. Tyra was convinced she was the heroine, protected by some invisible plot armor.
Smirking, she slipped into a scandalously short outfit, confidence oozing from every step.
Gone was the sweet, innocent act, replaced by a sway in her hips and a flirtatious glint in her eye.
She hid in Stanley's bedroom, lying in wait for him to take the bait.