At exactly 1:45 PM, Aria pulled her aging Honda Civic up to the main gates of Blackwood Estate.
The gates themselves were a work of art ornate ironwork that probably cost more than most houses, flanked by stone pillars that spoke of old money and older power. Security cameras tracked her approach from multiple angles, and she could see at least two guards visible in the gatehouse.
This wasn't just wealth. This was a fortress.
Aria took a deep breath, smoothing down her navy dress one final time. Her hands were steady; years of living multiple lives had taught her how to compartmentalize nerves but her heart was racing.
You're Sarah Mitchell, she reminded herself. Twenty-two years old. Previous employment with the Morrison and Chen families. Looking for a stable, long-term position. Earnest. Professional. Unremarkable.
She pressed the intercom button.
"Yes?" A male voice, professional and slightly suspicious.
"Sarah Mitchell. I have a 2 PM interview with Mrs. Chen."
A pause. She imagined them checking records, verifying her identity, possibly running facial recognition software against databases she'd already carefully scrubbed herself from.
"Please proceed to the main house. Someone will meet you at the entrance. Park in the visitor area to your left."
The gates swung open with a low mechanical hum, and Aria drove through.
The driveway seemed to stretch on forever, winding through perfectly manicured grounds. Gardens exploded with late spring blooms roses and peonies and flowers she couldn't name. Ancient trees lined the path, their branches creating a canopy of green. In the distance, she could see what looked like a private lake, sunlight glittering off its surface.
It was beautiful in a way that felt almost aggressive. A statement: This is what real wealth looks like.
The main house finally came into view, and even though she'd studied it extensively in photographs, the reality took her breath away.
Three stories of cream-colored stone and glass, with wings that sprawled in either direction. The architecture was a perfect blend of classical elegance and modern luxury old money that had adapted to new times without losing its essential character. This wasn't the kind of house you bought. This was the kind of house that had been in a family for generations, each one adding their mark while maintaining the legacy.
A woman stood at the entrance fifties, Asian, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit that screamed professional competence. She watched Aria's approach with the assessing gaze of someone who'd seen hundreds of applicants and could spot a fake in seconds.
This was Elizabeth Chen. The gatekeeper.
Aria parked in the designated area, gathered her folder of documents, and stepped out of her car. The contrast between her beat-up Honda and the luxury vehicles visible in the covered garage she counted a Bentley, two Mercedes, and what looked like a vintage Aston Martin would have been comical if it weren't so intimidating.
You belong here, she told herself. You're qualified. Professional. You have every right to be here.
Even if every document proving that was fake.
She walked up the stone steps, keeping her posture confident but not arrogant, and extended her hand as she reached the woman.
"Mrs. Chen? I'm Sarah Mitchell. Thank you so much for this opportunity."
Elizabeth's handshake was firm, professional. Her eyes missed nothing taking in Aria's modest dress, sensible shoes, the nervous but genuine smile.
"Welcome to Blackwood Estate, Ms. Mitchell. Please, come inside. We have much to discuss."
The foyer alone was larger than Aria's entire apartment. Marble floors polished to a mirror shine. A sweeping staircase that curved upward. Art on the walls that she recognized originals, worth millions. The faint scent of expensive cologne and fresh flowers.
This was a different world. A world of wealth and power so far removed from her reality that it might as well have been another planet.
And she was about to lie her way into its heart.
"This way," Elizabeth said, leading her down a hallway lined with more priceless art. "We'll talk in my office. I must warn you, Ms. Mitchell, we run very thorough background checks. If there's anything in your history that might cause concern, now would be the time to mention it."
Aria's heart stuttered, but she kept her expression open and guileless. "Of course. I have nothing to hide."
What a lie that was.
Elizabeth's office was smaller than expected but elegantly appointed. She gestured for Aria to sit in one of the chairs facing her desk, then settled behind it with practiced ease.
"Tell me, Ms. Mitchell. Why do you want to work at Blackwood Estate?"
The question Aria had prepared for extensively. The one that could make or break this interview.
"I've spent the last four years working for wealthy families," Aria began, her voice steady and earnest. "And in that time, I've learned that there's a significant difference between families who have money and families who understand how to maintain a legacy. The Blackwood family has a reputation for excellence, for valuing discretion and professionalism. I want to be part of an organization that takes pride in maintaining the highest standards."
"And what makes you think you're qualified for that?"
"My previous employers would tell you that I'm detail-oriented, discreet, and able to anticipate needs before they're voiced. I understand that working for a family like the Blackwoods requires more than just technical skills; it requires the ability to be invisible when necessary and invaluable when called upon."
Something flickered in Elizabeth's expression. Not quite approval, but interest.
"Your references are impressive," she said, pulling up something on her tablet. "Mrs. Morrison speaks very highly of your work. She was sorry to lose you when they relocated."
Aria nodded, grateful that her hacking had been thorough enough. Mrs. Morrison who had never actually employed Sarah Mitchell would have records showing exactly that if anyone checked.
"I was sorry to leave as well. But my personal circumstances required me to stay in this area." That much was true, at least.
"Family obligations?" Elizabeth's tone suggested she understood such things.
"Something like that."
The interview continued for another twenty minutes. Questions about her experience, her availability, her comfort with the live-in arrangement. Aria answered each one smoothly, her responses carefully calibrated to seem genuine without being too eager.
"You understand that this position requires absolute discretion?" Elizabeth asked. "The Blackwood family values their privacy above almost everything else. What happens in this house stays in this house. Always."
"I completely understand. My previous employers required the same level of confidentiality."
"And you're comfortable with the schedule? Six days a week, with Sundays off and one additional evening per week?"
"Perfectly comfortable. I prefer having a structured routine."
Elizabeth studied her for a long moment, and Aria felt like she was being x-rayed. This woman had probably interviewed hundreds of people over her fifteen years with the family. Could probably spot lies and inconsistencies that others would miss.
Please buy it, Aria thought. Please believe the performance.
"Your background check came back clean," Elizabeth said finally. "Your references are impeccable. And frankly, we need someone to start as soon as possible." She stood, extending her hand. "Welcome to Blackwood Estate, Ms. Mitchell. If you're willing, we'd like you to start tomorrow morning."
Relief flooded through Aria so intensely she almost swayed. "Tomorrow would be perfect. Thank you so much, Mrs. Chen."
"Please, call me Elizabeth when we're alone. Mrs. Chen is for formal occasions." She moved toward the door. "Come, I'll show you to your quarters so you know where you'll be staying. We'll need you here by 6 AM tomorrow for orientation."
Aria followed, barely able to process that it had actually worked. She was in. She'd gotten the job.
Now she just had to find the plant, steal it, and get out before anyone discovered who she really was.
Simple.
Elizabeth led her through a maze of hallways, pointing out key locations as they went. "The main residence has three floors. The ground floor is public spaces, living rooms, dining rooms, kitchen, library, formal entertaining areas. Second floor has guest suites and some family rooms. The third floor is Mr. Blackwood's private quarters."
Aria's ears perked up at that. Damien Blackwood's private floor.
"That entire floor is off-limits to staff unless specifically requested," Elizabeth continued, her tone making it clear this was a hard rule. "Mr. Blackwood values his privacy, and we respect that boundary absolutely."
"Of course. I understand."
They turned a corner, entering what was clearly the staff wing still elegant but noticeably more functional than the main house. "Staff quarters are here. You'll have your own room, shared bathroom facilities, and access to a common area with a kitchenette."
She opened a door, revealing a small but comfortable room. Single bed, desk, wardrobe, window overlooking the gardens. It was nicer than Aria's actual apartment.
"This will be yours. You're welcome to personalize it within reason. Laundry is done twice a week. Kitchen staff prepare meals for employees, but you can also use the common area kitchen if you prefer." Elizabeth handed her a keycard. "This gives you access to staff areas and the ground floor of the main house. Additional access must be approved by me or Mr. Blackwood directly."
Additional access. Like to restricted greenhouse areas.
"I understand. Thank you."
They were heading back through the main house when it happened.
Aria turned a corner and walked directly into someone's chest.
"Oh! I'm so sorry"
The apology died on her lips.
Because standing in front of her, dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, was Damien Blackwood himself.
And up close, he was even more devastating than his photographs had suggested.
Tall easily six-three, with shoulders that filled the hallway. Dark hair swept back from a face that looked like it had been designed by someone who understood exactly how to weaponize male beauty. Sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, lips that managed to be both sensual and cruel.
But it was his eyes that stopped her breath.
Gray. Not the soft gray of a cloudy sky but the hard gray of steel, with flecks of silver that caught the light. Intelligent. Assessing. Absolutely missing nothing as they swept over her face with an intensity that felt like a physical touch.
Her body knew before her mind did. Heat flooded her core. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of her dress. Her skin felt too hot, too tight. A strange flutter started low in her belly, spreading outward like ripples in water.
''What the hell was this?''