Maid

After a moment of stunned silence, I reached out and accepted the key from Rick's outstretched hand.

"Did you buy this house for me?"

Rick chuckled. "Not exactly. I own several residences due to my contributions to the Mafia. I'm just gifting you one of them."

With the fighting training concluded for the day, Rick told me that I would continue with calisthenics until exhaustion.

Under his guidance, I started with push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and pull-ups.

It was crazy—I was able to do 130 push-ups with the correct form. I must have been doing way more than 100 push-ups a day in this world.

As I lay exhausted on the ground, Rick approached and handed me a bottle of water. "It's almost evening," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "Your car is waiting for you at the entrance. Someone will show you to your new house."

I nodded weakly, uncorking the water bottle and gulping down its contents. The cool liquid slid down my throat and I felt my heart race.

After saying my goodbyes to Rick, Uncle Henry, and the others, I stepped out of the building. True to Rick's word, a sleek red McLaren 720S Spider waited for me right in front of the entrance.

As I approached the car, I couldn't help but feel a bit worried. I had a driver's license, but I had never driven a car like this one before.

As I got closer, I noticed a woman with short blonde hair standing in front of the car. Or was she a girl? She appeared quite young.

She was tall and confident and wore a white pinstriped blouse tucked into a black skirt The blouse was conservative yet cut to show off her curvaceous figure. The black pencil skirt hugged her ass, giving a hint of the firm round globes underneath. Its mid-thigh length showed plenty of her shapely legs.

As I approached the car, I noticed her bow lightly towards me.

"Good evening, Young Master. My name is Susan Summers. You can call me Susan. I will be your personal maid from now on," she introduced herself, and her smile seemed to light up her whole face.

I was taken aback by her formality but strangely, I really liked how I was being treated. "Good evening, Susan. Rick mentioned that you know the way to my house?" 

Susan raised her already high eyebrows in a questioning manner, and I forced myself to meet her gaze. Her blue eyes had an exotic almond shape that made it easy to get lost in them.

She seemed a bit flustered. "Umm... Rick? Oh! Pioneer Rick? Yes. He hired me to assist you."

"Alright then. I'm Graham. Friends call me Gray," I introduced myself, extending my hand.

Not that I ever had any friends.

She accepted the handshake, and her palm felt remarkably smooth. "I can't call you that, Young Master," she responded with a hint of hesitation.

"We'll see about that," I replied with a faint smirk, crossing over to the other side of the car. I noticed a small symbol of scarlet wings at the front of the car. Its shade was slightly different from the color of the McLaren.

With a confident pull, I opened up the sleek wing door.

Slipping into the driver's seat, I was immediately struck by the simplicity of the cockpit. There were no plastic parts in sight; everything was crafted from carbon fiber and soft Alcantara.

I pressed the start engine button, and the car roared to life with a deep rumble, sending vibrations through the frame. The dashboard slid into view, providing me with all the information I needed at a glance.

I gently pressed the acceleration pedal, and the McLaren smoothly glided onto the street. As I added more gas, the car responded eagerly, picking up speed effortlessly as the engine roared. The power beneath the hood was unmistakable; this car was a beast.

Its solid structure kept it firmly planted on the road. There was no swaying or veering to the sides; it felt like I was driving on rails and turning felt smooth as well.

As Susan directed me to the house, I noticed a few guys fighting on the sidewalk. It was still bright outside! Shouldn't the police do something about it?

I turned to Susan. "Why is no one stopping them?"

She glanced briefly, looking surprised at my question. Then, as if enlightened, she replied, "It's normal here, Young Master. Mafia won't interfere much unless someone is assaulted for no apparent reason or someone dies."

"So they can just beat someone up for stupid reasons? What if I find someone annoying? Can I just beat him up?" I asked.

She chuckled softly. "Well... the rules are very loose. That's why many people hire mafia members for protection. Although, I wouldn't do what you just said. If they report you, you will be summoned by the Mafia and will need to give an explanation. If they don't respect your reasoning, then you could be arrested."

Honestly, this made me feel like I was back in the Stone Age. If anything, I would think there would be more people beating the shit out of each other.

After some time, we arrived at the house. It wasn't too far from the city center. At first glance, I could tell that in my previous world, a house like this in Boston would cost many, many millions.

As we stepped out of the car, Susan walked confidently towards the house, with just enough swing in her hips to draw my eyes.

As we walked up to the house, Susan began explaining its layout. It was a two-story house with a garage big enough for two cars and a decently sized pool in the backyard.

Approaching the front porch, I opened the door and we stepped inside. Susan seemed to have been to this house before, as she was moving through it with ease.

The house was a blend of modern and Victorian styles. From the outside, clean lines, glass, and floor-to-ceiling windows, but with wooden detailing and corners. 

Inside, the decor was minimalist, with curated artwork and a sleek stainless-steel kitchen. Yet, there were also some ancient pieces, like the antique furniture and the fireplace in the living room.

The colors were warm, which I liked. Modern style was often too gloomy.

It was a four-bedroom house, with an office and three bedrooms upstairs.

I had already taken a quick glance at the pool before, but now, as we slid the glass door open to the outside, its full size came into view. It was more than decently sized, with deck chairs and umbrellas on the sides, along with some well-placed plants, mostly ferns, that fit the style of the house perfectly.

Susan stepped in front of me and put her hand into the pool. "The water can be heated if needed. Every two weeks, someone will come to clean the pool," she informed me.

I nodded, absorbing the information. "Alright. So what do we do now?" I smiled.

Susan looked at me with a hint of surprise. "Well..." She reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad, flipping through its pages before meeting my gaze again.

"We've informed your university that you'll be attending classes starting tomorrow. The academic year began a week ago."

I nodded, and then my gaze shifted to the pool.

'My own private pool... I'd be stupid not to try it out', I thought to myself.

I turned back to Susan who was fixing her curly hair, "Susan..."

Her attention shifted to me, as I walked toward the pool.

"Do you know where my clothes are?" I asked.

"Um, I was told they'd move your things here later today," she responded.

After the training, my body was still warm so I decided to hit the water and cool off.

"Well then..." With that, I took a few steps back, then leaped into the water with a front flip.

When I jumped in, the water splashed out of the pool and onto Susan, getting her blouse and skirt wet.