I crane my neck to look up at the skyscraper as I stand still in the middle of a streaming crowd of people. I check the address again. Yes, this is it. I look back up at the building. It's on a particularly expensive block, one where many of the owners and occupants are Singarti. Not a surprise, but even amongst all the impressive buildings, Prince Adir's stands out. Made almost entirely of tinted glass, it seems to pierce the blue sky, reflecting everything around it from some angles and looking almost black from others.

I take a deep breath as I adjust my backpack and take a better grip on my suitcase. There's no use procrastinating any more. I already dragged my feet on the walk over from the subway. Squaring my shoulders, I charge forward, the front doors sliding silently open as I pass. The foyer of the building is neutral, tan marble. There’s the tinkling sound of a fountain and an ultra-modern seating area to either side. The soothing sound of classical music gently flows through the place, piped in through hidden speakers.

Inside, two security guards hang back discretely, their eyes on the entrance; probably to make sure no riffraff comes in off the street. I’m pretty under dressed in my jeans and sneakers but I walk up to the smiling receptionist as the guard's suspicion gaze follows. I definitely don't scream money. I grin at him, almost hoping he’ll try to stop me from coming in but he stays put.

The girl at reception’s suit is a bright, bold red, matching her perfectly applied lipstick. I, in contrast, forgot to put my lip balm on.

"How can I help you?" she asks, taking in my backpack and suitcase.

"I'm here to see Prince Adir?" I say a little questioningly.

Her face clears. "Ah, yes, of course. You must be Isabelle Stone," she says with a wider smile. "If you could just identify yourself, Prince Adir told me to let you right up."

"Yes, of course." I smile back, pressing my thumb against the scanner set in the counter top.

I look over at the guard as the scanner’s light turns green. He narrows his eyes at me and looks away again, back to his dour face. Inwardly I giggle. It's the little things in life.

"Wonderful! Please, follow me."

I nod, turning to follow the receptionist's slender frame as she comes out from behind the desk and walks over to the elevator bank, her high heels clicking rhythmically on the floor. The doors open as soon as she presses the button.

"Now, Prince Adir's personal floor is only reachable with a fingerprint, but he signed off on including yours. If you will please just press your thumb here. "

I go through the quick process of putting my print into the system.

"Wonderful. This elevator will take you up to the correct floor now, but Prince Adir will have to give you a code because the print alone is only good for this trip. Any questions?"

I shake my head, overwhelmed already as she steps out of the elevator.

"Have a good day!" she chirps as the doors close.

I swallow as the elevator rises quickly, my stomach sinking with it. I can do this. No problem. Maybe if I say it enough times I'll actually start believing it.

The doors open with a gentle chime. Here goes nothing. I step out into a small entryway, also made of some kind of light brown stone. I take another hesitant step inside, absently noting the modern but comfortable décor of the living room, all neutral colors and glass. What catches my attention though, is the expansive view directly in front of me. The entire wall across from the elevators is made of glass, the entire city laid out in an awe inspiring view. The high-rises sparkle in the sunlight, the densely packed humanity down on the streets looks almost like a stream, one entity instead of many. I've never been this high up in such a tall building before, it's high enough to look over almost all the others. Much more of the blue sky is visible than I'm used to and it's beautiful.

I'm so engrossed in the sight that I don't even hear Prince Adir approach.

"Isabelle," his deep voice rumbles, making me jump a little in surprise. He's dressed in a pair of black slacks and a crisp, black button-down shirt, his eyes somewhat amused at my surprise.

"The receptionist let me up," I say dumbly. Of course she did. How else would I get up here?

"Indeed," he says, smirking. "Allow me to show you to your room." Without waiting for a response, he starts walking down a hall.

My room? I thought maybe I would be sleeping somewhere else. Somewhere farther from Adir. With no other option, I follow, looking around as I do. There’s a surprising amount of artwork on display. The hall we go down might be longer than the hallways at school. How big is this place?

"You will be dusting, cleaning, basically keeping everything in order in my home," he says as he turns down another hall and stops at a door at the end. "This is your room," he says, opening the door and stepping back. "Inside, you will find everything you need and also the uniform you are required to wear. If you would like to put your things away and put on the uniform, I will show you around so you can get a better idea of what will be expected of you."

Dusting and cleaning? Not really what I'd expected.

"Okay," I say, stepping inside.

"Good. I will be waiting." He gently closes the door behind me.

For a moment, I just stare at the closed door. Alright then. I turn to take in the room and have to stop to stare all over again. This isn't like any servant's room I've ever seen. Though, granted, I haven't seen any servant's rooms at all. There’s a large, four poster bed with a wrought iron frame in the middle of the room and a plush rug on the floor, a large wardrobe with delicate carvings stands on the far end and there’s another beautiful view from a wall of glass opposite the door.

I notice another door and walk over to it to look inside. There’s an equally spacious and opulent bathroom complete with gold fixtures, an honest to goodness tub and plush bathmats on the pristine tile. Wow.

I turn back to the bedroom, my eye only just now registering the golden yellow spill of color on the bed. Frowning I step towards it. It's a dress. A short, flouncy dress with a fuller skirt and a small white apron. A pair of supple black flats waits on the floor next to it.

"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter, picking up the yellow maid's outfit. This thing is ridiculous.

Sighing, I consider my options. Or, more accurately, my option. Singular. Yup. Don't really have any or I wouldn't be here in the first place. And Adir is still waiting outside. Shaking my head, I put my stuff in the corner to deal with later and shuck my own clothes quickly before sliding into the dress. It’s silky smooth against my skin as I pull it into place and do up the side zipper. God forbid Prince Adir get a cheaply made outfit for his help. Grabbing the small apron, I tie it around my waist and slide my feet into the flats.

I walk cautiously over to the full length mirror set to the side, in a corner. I didn't notice it earlier, almost hidden. Odd place to put it. I stop, not really wanting to look. The dress is short, though not ridiculously so, I guess. It hits me at mid thigh. The sleeves are short and fitted, the neckline is high with a small white collar. It isn't ugly and the color actually suits me. Shaking my head, I turn away. No point in spending any more time on something that doesn't really matter. Smoothing down the skirt in a useless effort to try to gain another inch of length, I go to the door and open it.

Adir is waiting, leaning against the wall as he scrolls through a paper thin tablet, making notes. Dictation is the norm nowadays, but some people still prefer the tactile method. Somehow, it doesn't surprise me that he would want to use his hands. The way he holds the slim stylus even manages to affect me. How ridiculous.

He looks up as I step out, straightening to an impressive height. His eyes immediately take in my outfit in a lingering glance. I suddenly feel a whole lot less dressed. I could be covered from head to toe and that look he just gave me would still send a shiver down my spine.

"Good," he says, clearing his throat. "It fits."

I clasp my hands behind my back and he nods sharply, looking away, all of that male interest shut down in an instant. I frown, confused. Did I misread him?

"Follow me," he orders in a cool voice.

Okay. Maybe he's on his period. Snort.

He leads me through the ridiculously large space, showing me the areas he wants me to keep neat and organized. The living space, the office, spare bedrooms.

"Don't clean the office space or the bedrooms unless they are unoccupied," he says firmly. "Do you understand?"

Does he think I'm an idiot? "Yes."

We walk past another door that catches my attention. It's made of real wood; a rich, deep cherry color that glows in the light with delicate carvings along the border. Even the doorknob is unusual, a gleaming metal etched with tiny vines with an old fashioned lock, complete with a key hole. I wait for Adir to point it out but he doesn't. Frowning, I clear my throat.

He looks over his shoulder impatiently, arching a brow. "Yes?"

"What about that door? What's behind it?"

His eyes flick over to the door and then back to me, his face hardening. "That area is off limits," he says crisply. "The door remains locked and you will remain on this side of it. No exceptions." His eyes bore into me. "Is that clear?"

My heart skips a beat. "Yes." Very clear. Got it. Don't go behind the mysterious locked door. I wonder if that's where he keeps his harem chained up, ready to be brought out for his pleasure. Shaking my head at the thought, I tune back in to what he's saying. I don't want him to say I'm not trying and start adding time to my indentured servitude.

"The kitchen is also to be kept spotless, as well as the dining room," Adir continues. "But that won't be until tonight, when the chef comes in. Do you have any questions?" He watches me, his face a little detached, like anything I say won't really matter.

"No," I say quietly.

"Good." He looks around again. "I'll leave you to get started then. I have work to do."

I nod, but he's already walking away. I watch as his back disappears around the corner, leaving me in the middle of an empty living room. I turn around, taking everything in again. I don't even know where to start. Dusting is a good, low pressure way to ease into things, so I go to the supply closet he pointed out during the tour and get out what I need. If there's anything I know from living in that old building with Father, it's how to clean. I get to work, dusting every nook and cranny in the room, letting my mind wander as I settle into a rhythm. As I polish a table, I'm a little flabbergasted at how different this is from what I expected. It was just...Prince Adir's intensity had me thinking... but I guess he really did just want a basic servant to do menial tasks for three years. Doesn't seem worth the debts he forgave. Maybe good help really is that hard to find. However, considering all the possible alternatives, I should be thankful this is all he seems to expect.

I push aside my stupid twinge of disappointment and keep working. I better get used to this mind numbing task. I'm going to be doing it for three whole years. I kind of zone out trying not to think too much. It'll only depress me. The sound of the elevator doors opening finally brings me out of my cleaning mode. Curious, I walk over as a short, plump man in chef whites hurries in, his impressive mustache waxed to within an inch of its life.

He comes to a stop. "Who are you?" he demands, a slight accent in his voice.

"I'm...Isa. I work here now." Good, awkward introduction. Excellent job.

He gives me a suspicious look. I stare back. Maybe the ridiculous outfit will convince him.

"Fine!" he exclaims, scurrying toward the kitchen. "You may help me set the table!"

Guess I passed and setting the table is something different to do at least. I follow the chef through the state of the art kitchen with expansive chrome counter tops and shiny appliances and into the dining room.

"I need eight table settings! Do you know how to set a proper place?" he asks, peering over at me inquiringly, his mustache twitching with energy.

"No," I admit. I figure that's a safe answer since we just do plates and silverware with tumblers.

"I will show you! Watch!" He trots over to one of the cabinets set on the side of the room and starts taking out all sorts of china, silverware, glassware, napkins. This is going to be more involved than I first realized.

"Now, you put the plate like so, and then the bowl like so, with the large fork..."

I listen carefully, watching where he places everything. There are a lot of steps and rules.

"Good," he says, stepping back. "Now, you do the other seven."

He smiles at me and scurries away. Alright. I can set a table. No problem. Muttering to myself, I start on the other seven, trying to remember exactly the order he put everything in and the little detailed notes he gave. I copy his and basically get the hang of it and start looking around while I work. I took a quick look at it during the tour, but Prince Adir was kind of distracting and we didn't spend a lot of time in here. It's gorgeous, painted a dark, rich brown with carefully placed molding and another gorgeous view of the city on one side. This time, the glass is framed with deep, ruby colored curtains on either side. The dining table is also long and elegant, with tall, carved-back chairs.

The lighting in the room is dim, the center of the table lit with an antique candelabra, its white candles and dull gold base a pretty contrast against the table’s wood finish. There's a large fireplace with a wide mantle, a large, impressionist painting hung above it with an interesting clock set just underneath. It must also be an antique of some kind, judging by its worn, wooden body. I squint at it. It almost has a face where the— well, where the clock face is I guess. Interesting.

I move on to the tea set. "Oh, aren't you pretty?" I murmur, taking in the delicate, thin white china with gold, purple, pink, and light blue designs along the bottoms of the cups and the rims. The rounded, matching teapot is just as pretty as the cups. I'm careful as I slowly set them where they need to go. Everything is almost done but just as I'm setting the last one down, a sound distracts me and I look away from what I'm doing. Only for a moment but it's enough. I hit the cup on one of the bowls and there’s a distinct sound of china breaking.

"Oh, no!" I breathe, looking down at the chipped golden rim. I've ruined the cup.

There’s a spine chilling roar, deep enough that it vibrates my whole body. I spin around, my heart in my throat. Adir is in the room, his overwhelming presence making the large dining room suddenly seem small and cramped.

"What did you do?" he roars as he stalks closer.

"I-I'm sorry," I mutter, stepping back automatically until I hit the dining table. "It was an accident." Nowhere else to go.

His jaw is tight as he crowds me, leaning over, his face flushed with anger. He takes another step closer and I start to wonder if the flush is actually from anger. Or something else entirely. My breath catches as the undeniable bulge of a massive erection presses against me. His glittering eyes land on my lips as his hands come down on the table on either side, caging me in. A wave of heat goes through me that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room. And everything to do with the man in front of me.

I lick my lips and his eyes narrow, his body tensing against mine. My nipples tighten against his chest and wonder if he knows, if he can somehow sense the heat gathering low in my belly. He leans down farther, until his lips are only inches away from mine. Until his hot breath is against my skin. Until I'm aching to close the distance between us. It's crazy. I must be losing my mind. Or maybe I've already lost it. I don't care either way. I want to taste him. Feel his lips against mine. He growls, his hips moving subtly as he grinds his impressive cock against me.

My eyes flutter shut, my hands coming up against his chest as I wait for the kiss that I'm almost certain is coming. They snap back open as the muscled heat of him disappears, the cooler temperature of the room suddenly chilly in comparison. I wrap my arms around myself, shaken and confused. Almost more because of my reaction to him than anything he did. Adir glares at me from across the room, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, the tent at the front of his pants unmistakable.

I frown. "I—"

"Go to your room!" he yells, his hands clenching into fists at his side as he turns away.

I take a tentative step towards him, wanting to say something, but not quite sure what.

"Now!" he shouts, not turning around.

I almost run out of the room, taking the long way out to avoid him. As soon as I'm in my bedroom, I slam the door shut, reaching for a lock that isn't there. Backing away from the door, I sit down on the bed, my breath coming in gasps, my body still needing...something. What's wrong with me that he makes my body want so badly? That beast of a man.

I watch the door, almost expecting him to burst through it after me even though he was the one who told me to leave. When it remains shut, I lay down on the bed, hot and restless. For the first time, I understand why a woman might do something stupid for a man. Especially for a man as compelling as Prince Adir. Maybe... maybe it's better if I take care of this urge myself. Maybe then I won't be so completely out of control whenever Adir is in the room. Feeling like I'm doing something wrong, though I don't know why, I tentatively slide my hand under my skirt, already hiked up almost to my hips from lying down.

I know people masturbate but I've never really done it, never really had much of a desire to. Now, I can't seem to be able to keep my hands off myself. It’s a poor substitute for Adir but he comes with a slew of complications. Unsure, I touch myself through my underwear, stroking the obvious dampness in the cloth. I'm wet. Very wet.

I let out a shaky breath as I slowly run my fingers up and down, a bolt of pleasure running through me at even the light touch. But I need more. I pull the cloth to the side, imagining Adir as I touch my bare flesh, caress the slickness there. His broad shoulders. Those intense eyes. The erection he couldn't hide. My back arches of its own accord as my fingers find my throbbing clitoris.

Oh. Yes. I need more, right there. I make a hesitant circle, a sharper stab of sensation running through me at the direct stimulation.

"Oh," I murmur, my head turning to the side.

The door slams, hitting the wall.

My eyes snap open and immediately meet Adir's narrowed ones, my hand still touching myself between my splayed thighs. I freeze as his eyes rake over me, lingering between my legs. Oh God. My heart is pounding as his eyes come back up to meet mine, his expression unreadable.

"I own you for the next three years," he growls. "That includes your pleasure. Do not touch my property without my permission or our agreement is over. Understand?"

His eyes bore into mine. A myriad of responses come to mind, most of them defiant, but in the end I merely nod. He holds all the cards. And he knows it. He takes another minute to look me over, his eyes so hot I’m seared by his regard. I had no idea being wanted would arouse me so much. Not until I met Adir.

But despite his obvious desire, he steps back, away from me. Closing the door gently now.

I let out a harsh breath then curl over onto my side, my body frustrated and my hand still pressed up against myself.

What have I gotten myself into?