Chapter 1

Julia Tears blurred my vision as I stared at the door. I did not want to do this. After remembering everything she did, I would rather sleep on the street. She was the reason why I moved out in the first place, but now I had to move back in with this green-eyed witch all because of one old pervert.

Mr. White was old enough to be my grandfather, and he was nothing but an old geezer. I had to quit my job after he tried to make a move on me for the fourth time. I know I should have quit the first time, but I desperately needed the money. I had rent and bills to pay but ended up getting kicked out of my apartment anyway because the rent was due, and I was unable to get another job in time.

I wiped my tears and knocked twice. I called her yesterday after having to search all over for her number. I had it written down on a piece of paper two years ago—the very same day I left the horrible town of Greengrove.

There wasn't much opportunity in Greengrove for a young girl to make something of herself, so I had to move. Education here was limited and so were good jobs.

Gina Parks opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. A cigarette hung from the side of her mouth and her hands folded across her chest as she looked at me. It was one p.m., but that did not stop her from dressing in an ugly green nightdress, pink and orange hair rollers, and blue house slippers. Her nails were every cat’s dream, and if it weren't for the wrinkles on her face along with her taste in fashion, no one would believe that the witch was forty-five-years-old with a twenty-three-year-old daughter.

She happened to be one of the worst mothers to walk earth.

“Well, well. Look at what the dog barfed up. Little wannabe princess had to return to mother dearest. What happened, did the kitty get overworked?"

I roll my eyes at her. It's not like I was expecting a warm welcoming hug. The only time this woman ever hugged me was the one time in freshman year when she got so wasted that she had to use me to support her feet. I'm not even surprised she thought that I was a prostitute. The saying did go, like mother like daughter, but this was not the case. In no way or form would I ever be like this woman.

"I won't be here for long. I'll pay you for my stay, beer or cigarettes?" I asked before grabbing one of my suitcases and pushing past her.

"Both," I heard her say as she followed me to the basement, otherwise known as my bedroom. The house is a small two-bedroom with a basement, two bathrooms and a kitchen that she made into a living/dining room. The other room was too good for me, so she rented it out to perverts, criminals, and prostitutes.

"After you're done putting your shit away you can go to the store and get them. You're in charge of dinner too."

Dragging the suitcase in my old room, I slammed the door in her face and leaned my back against it. I didn't want to stay here for long, but there wasn't much in my savings, and I had no idea what I was going to do.

I have never felt so lost before.

Rome "Berkeley, can you hurry the fuck up? I'm already running six minutes late."

"It's Bentley, sir, and there's a bit of traffic," my new driver replied.

Indeed, there was traffic. There was a large delivery truck six cars up and the damn driver was driving as if the road belonged to him.

"Overtake them!" I yelled at him. It was a bad idea to get a driver since I liked driving myself. I don't know what came over me to get one in the first place. "Never mind, stop the fucking car."

"Sir, what do you mean?" the imbecile asked.

"Stop the car and get out Berkeley. I'll do the driving my damn self."

At this point I was beyond irritated, he was young, yet he drove like a seventy-year-old.

As soon as he pulled over, I got out of the backseat and pulled the driver door open, dragging the scared man out. I wrote him a cheque for five thousand dollars and drove off, leaving him. I was heading over to Greengrove to see if that old woman finally decided to sell her grocery store. I bought out the four other businesses that were there to build my new hotel. I wanted the children there to have more opportunities and not a shitty future, but the old woman had a ridiculous sentimental bond with the damn place.

Overtaking the truck, I increased the car’s speed. I didn't purchase a fast car that wouldn't even be available for the next three years, so that I could drive slowly. I slowed down on the road right at the entrance of Greengrove. The welcoming sign was destroyed. Four of the letters were missing and the lights that surrounded the remaining letters were broken.

This place wouldn't be like this for long. It will soon be like Livingston, where I reside. The name would be changed, the roads fixed, and the schools upgraded with better teachers and classrooms. My lawyer was already working on getting rid of the low-class people around here.

I increased the speed once more, turning on a new road in the direction of the grocery store. But just then my car jerked. My anger increased. An idiot coming from the other direction turned at the same time and crashed into my car.

I parked the car and rushed out to see the damage. My fucking taillight was broken and there was a dent. The person from the old, cheap beat-up car remained in it. The hood of the car flew open because of the impact and smoke was coming from it along with weird sounds.

Walking over to the driver’s side, I realized that there was a woman at the steering wheel. I rolled my eyes. She seemed to be in shock as she stared ahead with her mouth agape and her small brown hands gripping the steering. I would knock on the window, but it was broken. Some of the glass was in her lap and there was a small cut on her right cheek.

"Are you going to get out of the car and pay me for the damage you cost or are you going to stay in there until this old tin can decides to blow up?"

Big hazel eyes met mine, and she pushed her door open, ignoring the broken glass and the blood staining her cheek. She stumbled out of the car almost falling on her face. This woman was obviously a clown.

"Who do you think you're talking to? You were going too fast mister. This is all you fault," she says finally, acknowledging the cut on her cheek.

I watch as she frowns at the blood on her index finger. Her curly chestnut hair is in a messy pile on top of her head. She’s wearing blue shorts with a white blouse and blue converse. Her only jewelry is a beaded anklet.

I place my hands in my pockets while watching her. "I should be the one asking you that."

Her big eyes look up at me, and she places her hands on her waist and glares. "I don't give a fuck who you are."

I raise my brows. “Well, you will once I sue you for damaging a car that cost more than your old rust bucket."

I walk to my car to get my phone to call my lawyer. I heard her small feet following me.

"You can't do that," she yells.

I found his number and put the phone on speaker as it began to ring.

"I'm Rome Livingston, little girl, I can do anything."

Her eyes widened when she finally realized who she was dealing with. She looked at me, then back at my car and right as Josh answered, she grabbed the phone from me and ended the call.

"Fine. I'll pay for your car if you pay for mine."

I couldn't help but find her words amusing. Did she even think before she spoke?

"You mean that tin can? The junk yard is where it belongs." I snatched my phone from her hand.

"Obviously it's not the best, so how do you think I'll be able to fix your car, especially when I just lost my car?"

"That's not my problem." I leaned against my car and watched her.

"This was all your fault," she whined.

I thought about her words. I'm not a people person, but I had a feeling that I should make an exception for this one.

"I'll hire you to work for me. The money you save you can use to replace your tin can and I'll let bygones be bygones."

From the amount of housework I had, I might as well hire her and forget what she did. Besides I could just send the car back to the company and they would fix it for free.

"What will I have to do?" she asked curiously.

I smirked. "You'll be my maid."