The sound of my name being called jolts me awake from a deep, unsettling sleep. My eyes flutter open, struggling to adjust to the dimly lit room around me. The first thing I notice is the sharp throbbing in my head, making it hard for me to focus on anything else.

"Cynthia, please wake up," Jaq's voice pleads with worry.

I try to sit up and take in my surroundings, but everything is hazy and my body feels heavy.

"Ugh," I groan out, finally managing to prop myself up on my elbows.

"Oh my goodness, Cynthia. I was so worried about you. What happened?" Jaq's frantic voice echoes in the small room.

I struggle to remember as flashes of pain and fear flood back to me.

"You found me? Where did you find me?" I ask, still trying to piece together what happened.

"In one of the rooms. You were unconscious and there was blood everywhere," he answers, concern lacing his words.

"That man...he tried to rape me," I say slowly as the memories start to resurface. "He slammed my head into the wall."

"How did you escape? And where is he now?" Jaq asks urgently.

"I don't know where he went. There was someone else there too...a man who might have saved me," I explain, still confused by the events that took place.

Jaq looks around at all the blood and then back at me, realization dawning on his face.

"Maybe that explains why there was so much blood near you...because you don't have a single mark on you," he says, trying to make sense of it all.

I glance at the clock and see that it's three in the morning. Panic sets in as I remember that we have a job to do before Lainey or Duke find us slacking off.

"We have to get busy. If they catch us like this, it won't end well," I say to Jaq, urgency in my voice.

I can tell he's worried about me as he nods and stands up, ready to start working.

"Just let me know if you feel weak or dizzy, okay?" he says, concern etched on his face.

I nod, grateful for his concern but also eager to get the job done. As we split up to clean different areas of the room, I can't shake off the eerie feeling that someone is watching me. But I push it aside and focus on the task at hand, determined to finish before dawn breaks and our time runs out.

With a soft beep, I punch in the code to access the private living quarters above the glass slipper. The main house is quiet and peaceful, with everyone tucked away in their beds, sleeping blissfully. 

I make my way through the main room, tiptoeing past the stairs that lead up to the guest floor. But as I ascend the stairs, I hear faint noises coming from one of the rooms. My curiosity piqued, I continue up the stairs and follow the sounds.

As I get closer, the noises become clearer and I can make out muffled voices. With cautious steps, I approach the partially open door and peek inside. My eyes widen in shock as I see Duke, naked and sweating, on top of one of their secretaries. He slaps her hard across the face, his hand connecting with a resounding crack that echoes through the room.

"I do not want any of your nonsense Anna," he screams at her. "Just fuck my brains out." My stomach turns at his callous words and actions.

But then she questions him, almost begging for his approval. "Of course Daddy, but why her? Am I not woman enough for you?"

He dismisses her question with a shout, ordering her to comply with his desires. She obeys without hesitation, climbing onto him and purring seductively. My disgust grows as they continue their lovefest right before my eyes.

Hastily turning away, I quickly retreat back down the hall to my room in the attic. Shaking my head in disbelief, I can't help but think that someone needs to take away Duke's sense of entitlement and power over women. 

It's clear that if he could have his way, he would engage in sexual encounters all day, every day. Disturbed and disgusted, I try to forget about what I just witnessed as I close the door to my room and retreat into the safety of my own thoughts.

The frigid water rushes down my body, sending shivers racing down my spine as I quickly wash in an attempt to avoid the numbing cold. My muscles ache with exhaustion, aching from days of physical labor. 

With a heavy sigh, I finish up and hastily dry off, eager to slip into something warm and cozy. I throw on my old, worn-out pajamas, the fluffy material now thin and threadbare from years of use. 

The familiar scent of home envelopes me as I curl up on my clumpy, lumpy mattress and stare out the small window. But despite the comfort of familiarity, my mind is still consumed by thoughts of him.

 That mysterious man with grey eyes that seemed to pierce through me. He had smelled so amazing, like freshly baked apple pie, and his eyes were filled with an intensity that I couldn't quite place. 

Why did he save me? And why did he disappear just as suddenly as he appeared? My thoughts race with these unanswered questions, even as I close my eyes and let the darkness consume me. Perhaps there is a small part of me secretly hoping that I will see him again - my grey-eyed mystery hero.