Chapter 2 Ruined
Elsie
"I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy hard... so hard until you can only crawl. Jacob's voice was dark with lust as he stared me down. His icy blue eyes froze me in place.
"You want that, don't you? Us taking turns, fucking you raw and emptying our cum deep inside you." Aiden said, his dark eyes locked onto mine. It sent a shudder down my spine because the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know, a look I had seen on too many men before.
A predator looking straight at its prey.
They had been drunk after their party. Maybe they wouldn’t even remember what they said. But I remembered every word. The disgust twisted in my stomach all over again.
I’d been living in the Lancasters’ mansion for only one month, working quietly as one of their live-in maids. I kept my head down, stayed in the background, and avoided being seen. I had only crossed paths with the boys a few times, and even then, I never dared to look directly at them.
So what was I thinking last night? Why did I drink from that whisky bottle instead of staying invisible as I promised myself I would?
A cloud of white dust from the antique sofa shot straight up my nose, making me sneeze so hard the room seemed to rattle.
A sticky, white substance was on the couch cushion. It was partially dried. I’ve been scrubbing it for minutes but it won’t come off easily.
Without thinking, I touched it and brought my finger to my nose before I could stop myself. The sharp, unpleasant smell hit me immediately. I grimaced. Sperm.
“Ugh,” I muttered, quickly wiping my hand with a towel.
It had to be Jacob. I remembered catching a glimpse of him right here, fucking a blonde during the party. Everyone had cheered them on while Aiden stood right next to them, his own cock in her mouth. She shook and moaned around it like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
The whole scene made my stomach turn. Even though my core throbbed, moistening my panties, all I felt was disgust. I couldn’t possibly want them. I hated the very air they breathed.
The only thing sharper than the stench of their filth is the knife I keep hidden. I don’t just clean the Lancaster brothers’ mess; I clean their trail.
Every stain I scrub, every broken glass I collect, is a single, agonizing tick of the clock until the day I watch them fall. When I finally walk out of this mansion, it won’t be as a maid, it will be as the woman who put them in handcuffs.
They stole my life, and that debt is the only thing keeping me breathing. They’re going to pay for it, and they’re going to pay dearly.
Hours went into the cleaning.
The Lancaster boys couldn't have made this house dirtier if they'd actively tried to destroy it. Every single room was filthy.
But the kitchen was the worst.
I knelt amidst the war zone they called a kitchen. The air was thick with the stench of stale beer, old grease, and rotting trash. Disposable cups and empty bottles crunched under my knees.
This relentless misery was my price for staying close to the monsters.
A deep voice sliced through the filth, so close it made me jump.
“Look who’s playing in the dirt.”
I whirled around. My breath hitched.
Jacob and Aiden. They didn’t walk into the kitchen, they conquered it. They were two statues of polished cruelty, their broad shoulders instantly swallowing the dim morning light. Even standing in the wreckage of their own party, they looked like Greek gods, untouchable and utterly dominant.
Jacob's chiseled jaw and malicious ice-blue eyes were a promise of pain. His gaze swept over my exposed legs and chest, hot and possessive, before he settled his cold eyes on mine. "Next time, you will wear appropriate attire around the house. You are a maid, not a whore." It wasn't a request. It was an order.
I was still wearing the cotton tank top and mini-skirt I'd slept in. I rushed to clean, not expecting the brothers to be up this early after a night of heavy partying.
Aiden made his way to the fridge for a bottle of water. He was wearing only boxers and an undershirt so thin I could see the outlines of his powerful muscles. Tattoos covered his upper arms. On his bicep, the name Sarah was etched inside a heart. Who the hell was Sarah?
I should never, ever find Aiden Lancaster attractive, but the demon was undeniably gorgeous. He caught me staring. Embarrassing. I quickly bent down to continue packing the trash, and my short skirt instantly rode up.
What is wrong with this stupid skirt? He must think I'm trying to seduce him. I hated him so much that I wanted to drive a knife into his chest.
I tried to pull the skirt down, but I felt Aiden's heated gaze on me. When I caught his eye, he cleared his throat deliberately into his hand.
“We have rules about attire, Elsie,” Aiden said, his voice colder and sharper. “A tempting distraction, but inappropriate for my kitchen.”
Fuck the Lancasters. I thought, pulling the skirt’s hem down, uselessly. I hated how undeniably gorgeous they both were, how their presence, even standing in a mess of their own making, felt like a threat.
Jacob smirked, his eyes dropping to the stain of garbage on my hands. “You missed a critical house rule this morning, kitten.” He didn't ask a question; he made an accusation. “The 9 AM breakfast is non-negotiable.”
My stomach dropped. I swallowed the fire I wanted to spit back—I was too busy cleaning the battlefield you left! But I remained mute.
Aiden took a slow, deliberate sip of water, his dark gaze locked on me as if I were a science experiment. "She had excuses, Jacob. She always has one. Maybe this time, she’d claim she had 'too much work to do.' The filth we pay her to handle." He didn't ask a question; he made a statement of ownership.
Jacob stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low baritone that didn’t just make my ribs flutter, it trapped the air in my lungs. “You know the penalty for non-compliance, Elsie.”
I looked up, meeting his eyes. I tried to speak, but the fear, raw and paralyzing, clamped my jaw shut.
Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, his immense biceps flexing. They towered over me, giants in their kingdom of chaos.
“The rule is simple: Non-compliance results in punishment.” His voice was a dangerous growl, slow and certain. “I’ll give you one minute, starting now, to choose the penalty yourself. Fail to choose, and I choose for you. And trust me, you don’t want my choice.”
Aiden smiled, a malicious crescent.
Jacob began counting, his voice dropping lower with each second, a dangerous, unwavering metronome marking my descent.
"Ten."
"Nine."
The numbers fell like stones. My mind raced, scrambling for an escape that didn't exist. What choice could I possibly make? What penalty could be less terrible than the one he would devise?
"Eight."
"Seven."
My eyes darted from Jacob's cold, amused face to Aiden's malicious smile. They were enjoying this. My panic was their sport.
"Six."
"Five."
"I... I..." I stammered, but no coherent thought would form.
"Four."
"Three."
Tears of frustration pricked my eyes. I couldn't think. There was no right answer.
"Two."
The air grew so thick I could barely breathe. Aiden leaned against the counter, arms crossed, a spectator to my unraveling.
"One."
The final number hung in the air, a death knell. The smirk that had been playing on Jacob's lips solidified into something truly wicked. He took one slow, deliberate step toward me, then another, until he was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Then, he spoke, his voice a low, intimate purr that slithered straight into my soul.
"Time's up," he murmured, his ice-blue eyes holding mine captive. "It seems you've made your choice. You've decided to place your trust in my... creativity. I respect that."
His words were a perversion of courtesy, a gentleman's phrase twisted into a threat. Respect? There was no respect here. Only the promise of pain and humiliation.
He leaned in, his breath ghosting across my ear as he whispered, "Let's begin your education, kitten."