The tension in the mansion was palpable as Armando stormed into the living room, his face a mask of rage. His voice cut through the silence like a knife, booming, “I want everyone to get in here now!”
The maids and servants scrambled out from every corner of the house, their footsteps echoing through the hall as they rushed to obey. Every single one of them gathered at the center of the living room, heads bowed, hands clasped nervously. All except Eleanor.
Armando’s eyes swept the room, narrowing when he realized she wasn’t there. His temper flared instantly, his fist clenching at his side.
“I said every fucking person should be here now!” he bellowed, his voice loud enough to make the walls vibrate.
A second later, Eleanor came running out from the kitchen, her heart pounding in her chest as she hurried into the room. She barely had time to catch her breath before Armando’s hand lashed out, delivering a hard slap across her face. The force of the blow sent her crashing to the floor, her hands catching the edge of the carpet to steady herself. The room fell into a suffocating silence as the other maids looked on, unable to do anything but watch.
Armando loomed over her, his face twisted in anger.
“In my house, no one keeps me waiting,” he snarled, his voice low but deadly. “You understand, bitch?”
Eleanor’s mind raced as she stayed on the floor, her cheek stinging from the slap, her heart thudding in her chest. She knew better than to argue, but her throat tightened, making it hard to get any words out.
“Do you understand me!?” Armando shouted, his voice rising again as he stepped closer, his fury intensifying with each passing second.
“Yes… yes,” Eleanor stammered, her voice barely audible. Then she quickly corrected herself, “Yes, sir.”
Armando glared down at her, as if considering whether to strike her again, before he stepped back. His eyes swept over the rest of the staff, and his tone shifted to something more controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface.
“Since this bitch doesn’t know how to do anything around here, she’s going to learn.” His gaze flicked back to Eleanor, his words like venom. “From now on, the rest of you are off the hook. All the cleaning of this mansion and the entire compound? That’s on her. I want her doing what she was bought to do. No sitting around, no excuses.”
The maids exchanged nervous glances, but no one dared to speak.
Eleanor slowly stood up, her head spinning, trying to process what had just happened. Armando’s words felt like a sentence, a punishment meant to break her spirit. But she stayed silent, not daring to look him in the eye.
“I’d learn fast if I were you,” Armando added, his voice dripping with contempt. “because if you don’t do it right, if you even think about half-assing anything in my house, you’ll regret it.”
He paused, eyes narrowing as he watched her, waiting for her response.
“Yes, sir,” she said again, this time more clearly, though her voice still trembled.
Armando’s eyes scanned the group of maids and servants gathered before him, their faces tight with anxiety. He was seething while Eleanor, still reeling from the slap, struggled to maintain her composure.
“Also, listen up carefully,” Armando began, his voice sharp and commanding. “I don’t want any of the chefs to lay off their duties, everyone else is laid off their various duties except my cooks. God knows I don’t need food poisoning from the rubbish this one”-he pointed sharply at Eleanor-“claims she knows how to cook.”
His words hung in the air, a direct insult that stung Eleanor deeply, but she remained quiet, her eyes fixed on the floor.
“Is that clear?” Armando snapped.
“Yes, sir!” came the immediate response from everyone in the room, the chorus of voices reverberating in unison. They knew better than to hesitate when Armando asked a question.
“Good,” he said, a cruel smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Now get out of my sight. All of you.”
The maids hurried to leave the room, the tension still thick in the air as they scattered. Eleanor remained for a moment longer, her legs feeling like they could barely hold her weight. She glanced around, her gaze briefly meeting the sympathetic eyes of one of the other maids before she quickly looked away. There was no sympathy that could help her here.
There was a scramble as the workers moved quickly, eager to escape his wrath. But Armando wasn’t finished. “Isabella, stay behind,” he added, causing one of the maids to freeze in her tracks while the others scurried out.
Isabella, a woman with gentle features who had always kept to herself, stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. Armando shifted his focus to her, his tone cold and detached.
“Tomorrow, you’re going to show her all the duties and chores she’ll be handling. Every single one of them. Understood?”
Isabella nodded quickly, not daring to say a word out of line. “Yes, sir,” she answered softly.
“Good. You may go now,” Armando said, waving her away like she was nothing more than a passing thought.
Isabella left the room, casting a fleeting glance at Eleanor before disappearing through the door. Now, it was just the two of them-Eleanor and Armando.
He turned his full attention to her, his eyes darkening with a simmering fury. “You’re going to make sure you do every single job in this house properly,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “If you screw up, even once, I’ll make sure you regret the day you ever stepped foot in my house. Do you understand me?”
Eleanor swallowed hard, her throat dry, but she forced herself to meet his gaze, if only for a second. “Yes, sir,” she whispered, barely managing to get the words out.
Armando stared at her, his eyes narrowing, as if deciding whether her answer was enough. Then, with a sharp nod, he gestured for her to leave.
She turned, heart pounding, ready to make her exit when Armando’s voice cut through the air again.
“Wait,” he said, and she froze in place. “One more thing.”
Eleanor stiffened, every muscle in her body tense. She slowly turned back around, dreading whatever he was about to say.
“There’s a strict rule in this house,” Armando began, taking a step toward her, his gaze unflinching. “My home is not a museum, and it’s not a place for exploring. You will only enter the rooms that Isabella shows you. Once you’ve done your job, you leave. No wandering, no snooping.”
His tone was absolute, the kind that left no room for interpretation. “If I find out you’ve broken any of my rules,” he continued, his voice dropping to an even more dangerous level, “there will be consequences. You don’t want to find out what I do to people who disobey me.”
Eleanor’s pulse raced as she nodded, her voice failing her for a moment. She could feel the weight of his threat hanging heavily between them. “I understand, sir,” she finally managed to say, her voice small.
Armando smirked, clearly pleased with her submission. “Good,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now, get out of here.”
Without another word, Eleanor turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing through the silent hall as she left the room. But even as she put distance between herself and Armando, the fear lingered, wrapping around her like a vice. The reality of her situation was sinking in more deeply with each passing moment.
There would be no mistakes. Not if she wanted to survive.