Arrival at Blackthorn Manor

The rain lashed against the windows of the bus as it wound through narrow, twisting roads. Lila Calder pressed her forehead against the cold glass, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and anticipation. The countryside blurred past in muted tones of grey and green, the storm turning the world into a canvas of shadows. She clutched the worn letter in her lap—the one that had promised her a fresh start.

The driver glanced back at her. “This is your stop, Miss.” His voice held a faint unease, as though the destination itself warranted a warning.

Lila stepped off the bus, the chill of the storm biting through her thin coat. Before her loomed Blackthorn Manor, perched atop a jagged cliff. Its dark, gothic spires seemed to pierce the storm clouds, and the sea below crashed against the rocks in fury.

“Welcome to the abyss,” she whispered to herself, clutching her small suitcase.

As she approached the wrought-iron gates, they creaked open with a ghostly groan. A man waited on the other side, tall and severe, his grey hair slicked back as if not a single drop of rain dared touch him.

“You must be Miss Calder,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. “I am Arthur, the head butler. Follow me.”

Lila trailed behind him, her boots squelching against the wet gravel. The closer she got to the manor, the more oppressive its presence felt, as though the house itself were alive and watching her.

Inside, Blackthorn Manor was both beautiful and foreboding. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, their light casting fractured reflections on the polished floors. The air smelled faintly of aged wood and something faintly metallic.

“You are to follow the rules,” Arthur said brusquely as they climbed a sweeping staircase. “Mr. Blackthorn does not tolerate disobedience or intrusion into his private affairs. Do your job, stay out of sight, and you’ll have no trouble.”

Lila frowned but nodded. She’d been warned about the reclusive owner in the letter—a man of wealth and mystery. But nothing had prepared her for what she would feel when she met him.

Arthur stopped at a grand double door and knocked once. “Your employer awaits.”

The study was dimly lit, the only light coming from a roaring fireplace that cast flickering shadows across the room. Lila stepped inside hesitantly, her gaze drawn to the man standing by the window.

Adrian Blackthorn.

He was tall, his presence commanding. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his sharp jawline and piercing grey eyes giving him a cruel beauty. He turned slowly, his expression unreadable, but his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her shiver.

“You’re late,” he said. His voice was low, smooth, but laced with an undercurrent of something dangerous.

“The bus was delayed,” Lila said, her own voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze swept over her, assessing, lingering for just a moment too long. “Excuses are not tolerated here.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, but she kept her head high. “It won’t happen again, Mr. Blackthorn.”

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “See that it doesn’t. Arthur will show you to your quarters. Be ready to work at dawn.”

As Lila turned to leave, she felt his gaze burning into her back, a heavy weight she couldn’t shake.

That night, in her small room tucked away in the servants' wing, Lila lay awake listening to the storm rage outside. She couldn’t shake the image of Adrian Blackthorn—those cold, calculating eyes and the way they seemed to strip her bare.

This was supposed to be her escape, her chance to start over. But as the walls of Blackthorn Manor seemed to close in around her, she couldn’t help but wonder: had she walked into something far darker than she could have imagined?

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