Monique's brows furrowed, her expression turning into a frown as she noticed Mr. Shaw, the driver, looking at her with wide questioning eyes. Curiosity piqued, he followed her line of sight, and a moment of silence hung in the air, casting an eerie stillness over the scene. Finally, Mr. Shaw turned his gaze back to her and spoke, his voice filled with curiosity, "Who?"

Monique's lips parted slightly as she replied, her tone laced with a hint of frustration, "Yes, who."

Confusion etched on his face, Mr. Shaw furrowed his brow and asked, "I don't understand, Miss. Whom are you referring to?"

The frown on Monique's face deepened, her eyes scanning the area once more. "That man over at the..." Her words trailed off abruptly as she realized that the man she had seen earlier was nowhere in sight. "There was someone there earlier. He was standing by the window. He..."

Interrupting her, Mr. Shaw interjected, his voice calm and reassuring, "You must be mistaken, Miss Van Welch. The workers here come once a week, every Sunday. Since it's Thursday, I can assure you that no one else is here but us."

Monique shook her head, her voice filled with determination. "I saw someone there. He was..."

Cutting her off gently, the man's voice softened, "Miss, you have been honest with me earlier, and I will treat you with the same honesty. I promise, with the pain of death that no breath would ever grace the walls of this manor other than yours and mine." Taking a step forward, he added, "Other than the four workers who come to clean the house, of course."

Monique's eyes widened, uncertainty flickering in her gaze. She couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something more to the mysterious figure she had glimpsed, but she reluctantly conceded to Mr. Shaw's reassurances, albeit with a lingering sense of unease.

"Unless you believe in ghosts."

Monique couldn't help but burst into laughter upon hearing Mr. Shaw's words. "No, I don't believe in them," she replied, her voice filled with amusement, as she took a step forward. Curiosity getting the better of her, she decided to take a chance and glanced up, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone by the window. However, to her disappointment, there was no one there. "I must have been too tired from the trip," Monique thought to herself, a hint of exhaustion tugging at her.

In an attempt to shake off her weariness, Monique raised her arms and stretched her back, feeling the satisfying sensation of her muscles loosening. She took a drag of breath, before turning her attention back to Mr. Shaw, who was busy unloading her suitcase from the car.

Observing the man struggling with the weight of her luggage, empathy surged through her, prompting her to run towards him, eager to lend a helping hand. However, her sudden movement caused Mr. Shaw to recoil, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice filled with confusion.

Startled by his reaction, Monique paused for a moment before replying, her voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty, "I'm... I'm helping you."

Cloudious Shaw had spent years immersing himself in the study of the ways of the wealthy. During the final years of Catherine Van Welch's life, he had painstakingly jotted down her teachings, resulting in thousands of words filling hundreds of notebooks, detailing what to expect from a woman of the Van Welch lineage. Mentally preparing himself for tantrums, harsh words, degradation, and even physical torment, he believed he was ready for the worst. During his trip to fetch the young Van Wlech, he purposely refused to answer her questions inside the car fearing that she'd find fault in him and demand that he took her back, a request that could have ended unfavorably for her.

But now, after a short exchange of sentences with Monique Van Welch, Cloudious found himself taken aback.

"Ahm. Mr. Shaw, are you okay?"

The young woman's concerned gaze met his, worry etched on her face. His eyes blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard.

Collecting himself, Cloudious offered a genuine smile, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. "I am fine," he reassured her, his voice gentle. "As for the assistance, thank you. But I can handle this on my own." His smile widened, a touch of amusement dancing on his lips. "It has been a long journey, Miss Van Welch. Shall we make our way inside?"

As they stood at the entrance of the grand manor, Cloudious couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. Perhaps the teachings he had meticulously recorded were not the absolute truth. Maybe there was more to the Van Welch family than the tales of coldness, indifference, and greed. Only time would reveal the truth.

And it seemed that time wasn't far behind. Cloudious shivered when he felt a familiar presence behind the main door.

He was waiting.

"Welcome to your new home, Monique Van Welch, Cloudious murmured as he grabbed the knob to the door, turned it and pushed the door open.

Monique had no idea what to expect. The manor from the outside looked amazing, except for the front lawn. But she had an inkling that she would be amazed. And oh, she sure was when the front door fully opened.

A warm and comfortable breeze welcomed her, carrying with it the scent of lavender. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light encompassing the inside of the manor, she was presented with something that exceeded what she was used to, and what she was used to already surpassed the grand.

The interior of the manor was breathtaking, but what immediately caught her attention was the thing that was directly opposite the front door. It was a wide, curving stair that split in two opposite directions halfway up. A luxurious structure, beautiful for its own sake. Monique wasn't one to have her jaw drop at the sight of something fine and exquisite, perhaps because she was so used to it. But the stair was one of a kind.

There was a feeling of enchantment that washed over her, propelling her legs forward. She took fast wide strides toward the structure and gazed at it with awe-stricken eyes. Carefully, she laid a hand on the newel post. The wood was smooth to the touch. The scent of lacquer permeated from it and enveloped her senses, making her smile.

Still filled with awe, she scrutinized the carvings on the newel. They were those of lilies and roses. They were etched with perfection, every curve and point was perfectly carved as if the carpenter who made it poured every bit of their talent into it.

Magnificent, Monique thought to herself as her gaze swept from the newel down to the steps, up to the railings, and toward the landing above where the staircase split into two. The craftsmanship of wooden materials held a special place in her heart. She found them intriguing, even as a child. Simply because she appreciated the hard work that took to complete such masterpieces.

No wonder this place was hidden away. Monique thought to herself. The Crowd she'd known all her life would have worn its steps with endless parties, had its balusters broken by some drunk gentleman, had its handrail caressed by rough hands made valuable by blood, or had its newel used as support for spoiled rich ass if it were made accessible to them.

"It is a magnificent structure, don't you agree?" Mr. Shaw murmured from behind her, momentarily startling Monique. She was quite perceptive and always alert to her surroundings, but she didn't notice when the caretaker/driver fell to a step behind her.

After gaining her composure, she replied, "Yes, it is. Is it chestnut?"

"You know your wood," Mr. Shaw replied, his eyes wide with awe.

Monique giggled and said, "Well, I come from a wealthy family, so I guess it's in my blood. I may not have obsessed over the finer things I had, but I do know how to identify them."

She paused for a moment, looking around the room. "This chestnut wood gives the whole space a warm and elegant feel, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes it does," Mr. Shaw replied, looking at Monique with admiration.

Monique then took a moment to look around the grand living room, her eyes filled with wonder. The room was adorned with exquisite furniture. They were made of rich chestnut wood and oaks that exuded a sense of timeless beauty.

In one corner of the room stood a magnificent grandfather clock, its intricate carvings and polished brass gleaming in the soft morning light. It stood tall and proud, with its melodious chimes that echoed through the room. Positioned against the wall opposite the entrance, just beside the stairs. It added a touch of nostalgia to the otherwise modern design of the room.

The walls were adorned with stunning paintings of nature, transporting Monique to serene landscapes and idyllic scenes. The paintings, carefully chosen to complement the nineteenth-century aesthetic of the room, depicted rolling hills, blooming meadows, and majestic forests. The vibrant colors and meticulous brushstrokes breathed life into the artwork, making it feel as if one could step into the scenes themselves.

As Monique took in the grandeur of her surroundings, she couldn't help but appreciate the harmonious blend of the past and the present. The room exuded an air of sophistication and refinement, a perfect balance between the nostalgia of the nineteenth century and the sleekness of modern design.

"This house is a temptation," she whispered under her breath.

Claudius raised an eyebrow and asked, "How so?"

"Well, the crowd I knew and grew up with would have died to live in this house. They would have gone to extreme lengths, even killing each other, just to possess it. It's majestic, impossible to let go," she explained.

Claudius frowned and questioned, "But would you?"

Monique met his gaze and replied, "No material possession in this world could disillusion me, Mr. Shaw."

Claudius smiled. "A part of me believes that, Miss VanWelch."

"Just a part of you?"

Claudius laughed genuinely, a sound that had been suppressed by Catherine. "Well, perhaps the entirety of me believes it, Miss VanWelch."

Monique took a deep breath and stretched her arm up again. "This place is amazing. I didn't think I would like it here, but everything feels right. Including you, Mr. Shaw," she murmured.

Claudius couldn't help but smile once more. "I'm glad to hear that."

Then she playfully added, "The front lawn needs a little work, though."

Mr. Shaw bobbed his head, his smile, wider. It gave Monique a sense of belongingness that doesn't always happen. However, that melancholic moment was interrupted when she felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere. The air unexpectedly felt heavy, rancid, like she was being pressed down by something. She grabbed the newel of the stairs to overcome the vertigo that came with the shift.

Seeing her state, Claudius immediately took a step forward and attempted to circle his arms around the young woman's waist to give her support. But as he did, he felt something behind him. It was warm at first, but then it started to feel like his back was burning. He knew what needed to be done, and he did it. He took a step back. Luckily, the young woman managed to keep herself up with the aid of the newel. But her feet were still wobbly.

Without consideration, Claudius murmured, "She needs assistance."

Monique, still feeling that heavy pressing sensation upon her looked up. Her sight was blurry, she was seeing double. Another silhouette was behind the caretaker but it did not strike her as anything. What caught her attention was what he said. The man had spoken as if he was aiming his words at someone else.

"Who..." Before she could finish her words though, Mr. Shaw reiterated his sentence, this time making more sense. "Do you need assistance?"

Just as the man finished his question, the heavy feeling pressing upon Monique vanished. A deep sigh escaped her mouth as her chest expanded. She slid down and sat on one of the stair steps. Rubbing her temple she looked up at Mr. Shaw. The caretaker was staring at her with worry etched on his face.

"Are you alright?"

The question held so much emotion and worry, that Monique felt like she needed to assure the man that she was fine, despite not being so. "I'm alright. I think the exhaustion of our travel had taken its toll on me."

Claudius saw the lie, but he said nothing about it. "You should rest. Let me take you to your room," he suggested as he walked toward where he left Monique's suitcase. Picking it up, he whispered, "That was uncalled for."

"Know your place. You are an abomination just as much as I am," a voice answered.

"She is tired."

"I can see that," the voice replied. "Bring her to her room."

Claudius bobbed his head and proceeded to carry the suitcase, walking back towards Monique. Soon, he was leading her up the staircase, leaving behind a baffled and somewhat jealous presence.

***

He knew what he had done was wrong, but he couldn't resist. Claudius meant no harm.

However, the new Van Welch was unlike anyone he had encountered before. She got him all worked up in the strangest of ways. She hasn't even been here long. Yet she was already lighting up his darkness.

Even Claudius had felt and witnessed the difference. He was certain of it. That was troublesome.

"Monique Van Welch," the presence whispered. "I shall meet you tonight."

***

Monique still felt dizzy, but she tried not to show it to Mr. Shaw. She followed him up the stairs, and upon reaching the landing where the staircase split into two, Mr. Shaw leered her toward the left. There were about twenty more steps before they reached a corridor.

The corridor was wide, with a total of seven bedroom doors, three on each side of the corridor and one at the edge. The doors on either side of the aisle were made of solid oak, with intricate carvings that spoke of the grandeur of the house. The walls were adorned with paintings of various sizes, depicting landscapes and portraits of people long gone. The floor was made of chestnut wood, polished to a high shine that reflected the light from the chandeliers hanging overhead.

As they walked along the corridor, a faint scent grazed Monique's senses, a delicate fragrance of lavender and sandalwood. It was a soothing scent. The furniture along the corridor was also made of oak, with intricate carvings that matched the doors. A long table stood against one wall, with a vase of fresh flowers in the center.

Despite the grandeur of the corridor, there was a sense of foreboding that hung in the air, an unspoken tension that made Monique uneasy. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she felt as though she was being watched.

With the heaviness that clung to her, Monique stopped walking. Her abrupt stop immediately caught the attention of Claudius. The man looked at her worriedly, "Are you okay, Miss Van Welch?" he asked.

Monique tried to smile, but despite her efforts, a frown appeared on her forehead. "I don't know. A few minutes ago, I was fine. But right now, I feel a heaviness in me," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not to mention. I feel like..." She glanced from right to left, "I'm being watched."

Claudius smiled, shook his head, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps you just need to rest for a bit, Miss. The journey here must have shocked your body," he suggested.

Perhaps, she thought to herself. She nodded, grateful for the suggestion. She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. When she opened them again, she felt a bit better, though the heaviness still lingered.

"Thank you, Claudius. I think you're right. I just need some rest," she said, managing a small smile.

Claudius nodded. "Of course, Miss. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he said before walking ahead, leaving Monique to collect herself before continuing on.

As they approached the third door on the left, Monique couldn't help but feel thankful. The trip must have really taken a toll on my body, she thought to herself. I can't wait to take a shower and lie down, she mused further.

They walked a few more steps until they reached the edge of the corridor. There, Monique was presented with a huge wooden door. Unlike the previous doors they had passed, this one didn't possess a lot of intricate designs. However, it did have a carving of a woman who stood from the very top of the door and ran down below, covering the entirety of the middle of the door.

The carving was eerie, Monique noted. Its facial expression made her step back in fear. The woman seemed like she was in agony, her face contorted as if she was horrified. Her arms were spread on both sides as if she was being pinned on the door. Her hands were fisted, and the dress she wore was torn at the bottom.

The carving was done perfectly, and it seemed like the woman was alive, ready to jump out of the door and grab her.

She peeled her eyes away and focused on the floor, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in her bones.

"Does the carving unease you, Miss Van Welch?" Claudius asked, his eyes focused on her.

Monique nodded, unable to meet his gaze. Claudius chuckled, trying to ease the tension. "This door was commissioned by Miss Catherine herself. That woman had a weird taste. I get where you're coming from, Miss. If you want, I can provide you with another room. But I have to tell you, this one is the biggest here," he said, clearing his throat before he added, "I spent days fixing this room in preparation for your arrival."

Shit, Monique thought to herself. She was ready to accept his offer. But then, she felt a pang of guilt at the thought of rejecting the room after what he said. She didn't want to come across as ungrateful or demanding, especially after the conversations she had with him. He seemed nice. "It's okay, Mr. Shaw. This room will do," she murmured, still unable to lift her gaze.

Claudius felt her hesitation and glimpsed the fear in her eyes. He wouldn't have taken offense had she requested another room. You truly are unique, he thought to himself.

He had chosen this room with a purpose, specifically, to witness her reaction to it, knowing no woman would be comfortable with a door like that. He wanted to gauge how far her inbred frivolity was. He felt a prick in his chest. If he had known she was kind, he wouldn't have done this. He looked at the door. The carving was petrifying, and even Claudius wouldn't want to stand before it day and night. But it was too late for regrets.

"If that's your decision, then please make your way inside, Miss Van Welch," he replied, turning the knob and guiding Monique inside.

As Monique stepped in, the terror that had clung to her was momentarily muted by the grandeur of the space. The high ceilings and ornate moldings were breathtaking, and the soft, muted blue walls created a calming atmosphere that was further enhanced by the natural light streaming in through the large windows.

The centerpiece of the room was a majestic four-poster bed, its wooden frame intricately carved with patterns that matched the door; flowers and leaves. The bedding was a pristine white, with a delicate lace trim that added a touch of elegance to the space. A plush armchair sat in the corner, its soft cushions inviting one to sink in and relax.

Against one wall stood a small bookshelf filled with novels, some with hard covers, others in paperback, and a few leather-bound. A vintage record player sat atop a wooden dresser, surrounded by stacks of vinyl records. A vase of fresh flowers, including chrysanthemums, roses, and lilies, graced the bedside table, adding a pop of color to the otherwise subdued palette.

But despite the beauty of the room, the heaviness in her suddenly returned and then lingered. What's wrong with me, she questioned mentally. She truly couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

Everything was perfect. Peaceful. Beautiful. But as she gazed longer at her surroundings, It suddenly felt as if the room was alive, watching her every move, waiting for her to let her guard down. She shook her head. She couldn't truly explain the feeling, but it was there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce.

She took a deep breath, her emotions running wild. She couldn't comprehend at what point her feelings had shifted. Downstairs, she had been having a great time, marveling at the staircase, and then...

"Miss?"

Monique's musings came to a stop as Claudius's voice boomed inside the room.

She turned to face him, a frown etched on her forehead.

"Rest, Miss. I think you need it," he suggested as he made his way toward the bed in the middle of the room and placed Monique's suitcase beside it. "Sleep," he added as he strode toward the door and closed it behind him.

After Claudious' departure, Monique sat on the edge of the bed, her mind racing. Something was off. Truly off.

She laid down, hoping that sleep would come and seize the unease that had settled in her bones. Whatever questions and worries she may have, she'd face them once she's rested.

Well, if she'd be rested.