Strict Rules

What the hell? Did he imply that I was unworthy of him? My eyes narrowed into a lour, expressing immense irritation. The rule wasn't made because I was a virgin. I gave my first time to a cheating asshole in high school. Nor was it that I didn't think Isaac was a seriously handsome man... He's honestly a gorgeous specimen. I just want to ensure that I won't be taken advantage of, although I never expected such an uncouth reaction.

"Carry on, Miss. Thomas." He sounded impatient, even the bouncing of his legs grew energetic, seeming jittery and on edge.

" Um, yeah. I want a percentage of my payment transferred every fortnight."

"Anything else?"

"Thirdly, I guess, is that you are not violent towards me."

He chuckled abruptly, his blue irises glimmering in the fluorescent light. "You can rest assured that I am in no way a violent person, Miss. Thomas."

Aiming to conceal the grimace on my features, I digressed to a lighter topic. "Call me Chloe, please... It feels too formal when you address my surname."

"Unfortunately, I cannot grant your request. I prefer that we maintain a professional relationship." He crossed his legs, appearing relaxed than earlier.

"I understand, sir."

"Are those all your conditions?"

"Yes," I affirmed, earning a crooked smile from him. Although he was refined and elegant, his mannerisms were a tad eccentric.

"Then I agree to all three." He took a few minutes to type the terms into the contract, sparing occasional glances in my direction which mirrored intrigue. "Now, the following terms are non-negotiable and binding. If you do not agree, then the contract will not proceed."

"I understand." I fumbled with the bottom of my blouse with anticipation. Was he one of those tyrannical bosses?

"Rule 1: You will do whatever I request without any questions." Huh? That's pretty ambiguous. As if he had read my mind, he promptly elaborated. "This will vary from household chores, business meetings or formal affairs, and assistance during my hobbies."

"I-I see…"

"Rule 2: You will not leave this house, speak to anyone, and do anything, without my permission." What the hell? I gawked at him, musing the reason he'd want to restrict me so much.

"Rule 3: You will be provided with a new phone and laptop, and therefore cannot use your own devices. There will be access and internet restrictions too."

What even are these oppressive rules?! I doubt this is even ethical, but it's not like I can refute it either. This is private employment, not some CEO of a multi-million-dollar company.

"Rule 4: You must always stay by my side unless I say otherwise." My lips parted into a gape, shellshocked by the outlandish position I've gotten myself in.

"Rule 5: The contract cannot be terminated once it has been signed and will last up to a year." Far out he's still going.

"Rule 6: Everything that happens during this year will be confidential and not disclosed to third parties." He cleared his dry throat, before sipping on a glass of expensive water from Japan. He briskly printed out the document and slid it toward me on the table with two fingers. "Any breach of contract will resort to severe consequences, am I clear?"

"Crystal," I gritted through clenched teeth.

Was I ready to sell my soul to this rich man? I profusely nibbled on my bottom lip in contemplation. He didn't force me to sign it, I could walk away and never look back. However, that would mean I'd lose the only chance to save Joel's life. Shaking off any doubts, I immediately signed the contract, accepting my fate.

"You start today." He sounded pleased, akin to the devil making an unbreakable deal. Fortunately, his demeanour was too harmless for me to experience any apprehension. Besides, informing Joel about my new job was on top of the to-do-list right now.

"Can I go home for a few hours? I'll be back in the afternoon."

"That's not necessary, I can–"

"I know, but I really need to tell my brother about working as a stay-in maid." I interrupted, invoking him to knit his eyebrows sternly. "I promise not to mention any specifics."

He seemed sceptical and reluctant to grant my wish. It didn't make sense why he was so disinclined to approve my request. This man will practically own me for an entire year. The least he could do is allow me to say goodbye to Joel.

"Please... He's very sick. I need time with him," I pleaded desperately, hoping it would appeal to his emotions. He let out a sharp exhale, springing to his feet.

"Alright, but you must return in 3 hours."

"You have my word." He nodded in agreement, before guiding me outside. I was unbelievably relieved that he had a heart. Maybe our time together wouldn't be so bad. We might eventually get along too.

"You're gonna do what with a guy?!" Joel was furious when I told him about the one-year contract.

"It's a maid position, not a sex worker." I justified, inducing him to cringe at the thought.

"Firstly, that's gross. And secondly, I don't feel comfortable with my sister living in some stranger's house!"

"Trust me, the guy is harmless from what I've seen." Apart from the abnormally strict contract, he was a gentleman the whole time.

"You don't even know him well enough to form that opinion."

"We have no choice, Joel... I can't lose you too." His features softened, displaying sympathy as he reeled me into a crushing hug. "You're all I have left after mum and dad," I murmured under my breath, causing him to squeeze me tighter in his embrace.

"This is all my fault," he exclaimed, dispirited.

"It isn't. You have no control over what cancer does."

"This isn't your burden to bear."

"I need to do this. I promise I'll be safe."

"How do I know you're safe if I can't even contact you?" He croaked, obviously worried at the possibility of losing his sister.

"I'm a smart girl, I won't let anything happen to me.��� He blew out an exasperated breath, as his face contorted into a pout.

"Don't make me regret this." I gently pecked his forehead, hoping it would ease our goodbyes. I was wrong… We both held each other and cried like babies until it was time for me to depart.

The instant I returned to the mansion, Isaac demonstrated chivalry by carrying my belonging upstairs. He escorted me to a beautifully decorated bedroom, far bigger than my apartment in itself.

"I hope this room is to your liking, Miss. Thomas." He carefully placed my suitcase down.

"Very much so, thank you."

"I have your monthly schedule here." He handed me a rather large booklet with descriptions and tables. I never thought I'd have to follow an essay.

"It has everything you're responsible for noted and explained. I expect minimum mistakes and maximum performance." He exuded self-worth and importance, reminding me of a spoilt child playing boss. I had to suppress a mischievous grin when his eyebrow raised with curiosity, only highlighting his boyish features.

"Of course, sir."

"Great, I'll be working on my novel in the meantime." He swivelled around, about to leave until I called out to him.

"You're an author?"

"Yes, a best-selling thriller novelist," he humble-bragged, evoking a gasp from me. I had no idea he was such a talented big-shot writer.

"Excuse my bluntness, but why would you hire one maid instead of a handful?"

"I value my solitary and privacy. I'd rather have one maid than many hindering the quiet atmosphere," he vindicated politely, a soft smile reaching his eyes. "It interferes with my creativity and thought process."

"Fair, enough." I suppose he was the lone wolf type. His anti-social character made sense, including his reserved and guarded nature. What's more peculiar is that such a mellow guy wrote thrillers for a living.

"Would that be all, Miss. Thomas?" He asked a little curtly, diverting my concentration.

"Yes, thank you."

"In that case, enjoy your stay." Isaac suavely left the room, creating a mysterious silence. I collapsed on the extravagantly comfy mattress, flipping through each page in the booklet. It had everything detailed from household chores to meals, even his bathing and work schedules which I was prohibited from disturbing him.

After packing and sorting out my belongings, I did as was instructed and cooked a spaghetti bolognaise. When dinner was prepared, he merely thanked me, then excused himself and took the plate upstairs. This was going to be a super lonely year. Nevertheless, I had to respect his wishes if he wasn't the social type.

Later, I finished eating and began wiping the kitchen counters. His mansion was practically spotless. It was not logical why he would hire a maid in the first place. I continued to wipe the counters, subtly admiring its deluxe designs. My attention had momentarily paused when loud footsteps descended the stairs. Isaac halted in front of me, wearing a black denim jacket and ripped jeans. His hair was messy, though oozed masculinity. That intoxicating scent of cinnamon and musk filled the air. His appearance and attitude were vastly different from the reserved, introverted man I had signed the contract with.

"Get dressed, love. We're going out tonight." He spoke informally, lacing his words with arrogance and authority.