Chapter 54/201: Terms of the Young Master

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My eyes widened at the rude, actively inconsiderate statement which erupted from my ex-employer's chest, and I blinked.

'I have no need for a personal assistant, Chairman. She is dismissed in advance.'

What... the...

Was he serious?

This man... someone in his condition...

How proud do you have to be to reject help in such a situation...?

No, more like... this is not pride...

But something like being borderline illogical!

I parted my lips to retort, and yet no words came out.

I'd seriously not seen this coming.

A shift beside me was felt at this, and the tall, fearful silhouette of Trevor Ellington Conway stepped next to me.

I shuddered, seeing his expression was still unchanged.

As his merciless, tyrannical gaze clashed against that of his son's.

And for a split of a second...

His lips twitched.

And his jaw tightened.



"Caretaker, Alexander." He stressed the first word, "You have no such thing as a personal assistant anymore, you are correct."



My eyes widened for a split of a second, yet I directly struggled to conceal it, as the meaning of his words registered to me.

Personal assistant...

That's... me... right?

Charlotte Thorne, the private secretary...

A knot formed in my throat, as he did not even flinch, keeping his terrifyingly dangerous gaze into his son.

"But a caretaker will certainly be of fair serve during your recovery period." He murmured, barely moving his lips. "As I mentioned, she was recommended by the Oblonsky's, which guarantees her competence. Try her for a week, if you are not satisfied, we shall accomodate."

I gulped.

This man...

Such an objectifying way of addressing people...

Was he talking about some car?! The heck!

I clenched my teeth, moving my gaze back to his majesty Ellington.

Cold sweat drenched my back, noticing he did not have a reaction which I was expecting.

From my knowledge of the almighty R.E.C., I'd expected to find his ocean orbs storm, or his left hand clenched over his right hand wristwatch, or his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his jaw twitching... all as signs of his displease.

Yet instead... I...

Saw none of those.

His face had not a single muscle out of place.

All perfectly placed.

All...composed.

Yet somehow...

When combined with the cloudy grey of his beads, it reflected sublime coldness.

His expression looked more dangerous and frigid than I've ever known it before.

It was as though I was looking at an alien with the same features as Mr. Ellington.

But with an utterly opposite core and content.

Wordlessly, the son nodded his head with a milli inch at this.

And yet the father still maintained the tense staring contest with his son.

As their gazes clashed.

And I suddenly felt nauseous from all the tension.

"Get well soon, figlio mio." The father intensified his gaze at this, before cutting off the contest and turning on his heels as he started walking.



"A lot of work awaits you."



Reaching the door, his voice came once more, sending shivers against my spine:



"And Miss Reinhart, I expect you to keep our agreement in mind. After all, you are being trusted with such massive responsibility."



I gulped, cold sweat drenching my back as he continued in a low, barely audible threat:



"And with massive responsibility comes massive casualties in case the agreement fails. Good day."



My eyes remained wide at the clear, unmasked, and bone-aching threat which caused my body to go numb, as I nodded.

And for a second, as the door fell closed behind the Chairman, various suppressed images from the two days of hell flashed before me, particularly when I was kidnapped.

I gulped, attempting to calm my breathing down.

Suppress, Charlotte. Suppress, Charlotte.

Now is not the time to be terrified.

Please. Just... please.

Your disguise already worked on the Chairman, perfect!

Now all what's left is the president!

Go, go, go!!

Just let this night pass peacefully, and you'll deal with all your fears tomorrow!

Come on, pull the strong act a bit more!

Some adrenaline rushed through me, as I cleared my thoughts, and my breathing calmed down.

Reaching for my luggage beside me on the ground, I held it, as I started walking into the room with slow, unsure steps.

Avoiding to eye the timed bomb of a human in the bed, my eyes found the door connecting the room to mine, and it had its key in the hole.

Good, now head there Char, get your shit together, and then you-



"So, Signorina Daisy Reinhart, was it?"



I shuddered, stopping in my tracks.

My eyes widened at the composed, frostily poisonous voice which had come from none other than the deep throat of Rickard Alexander Ellington Conway on the bed some steps away.

Gulping, I let out a low breath. Okay, relax Charlotte, relax.

He has no way of knowing who you are.

So yes. Daisy Reinhart it is.

I looked in his direction, forcing a very uncomfortable smile. "Yes, young master. Can I help you in anything before I head to change?"

Chills crossed my skin, as the unfazed, core-bared frost in the president's irises roamed over me for like ten seconds, before he turned away wordlessly.



"I will not waste a lot of time in acquainting you with the terms of surviving the upcoming four months of coexistence within the same vicinity as myself."



I blinked. Hah?

With the same unwavering, and horribly cold tone, Mr. Ellington resumed his deliberate speech. "Do not perform any service I did not personally request."

My blood froze at the statement.

"You will find various lists in your room of medicines and meals I am required to take according to timing. Neglect them." The second sacred order of his majesty fell, his tone unwavering.

I bit my lips. What?

"Do not come into this room uninvited, and enjoy a luxurious privacy in your own room." Oh, so he wasn't even done, eh?

I gulped, trying to register his ultimate orders as they fell.

"And finally, use the other door to leave your room, and not the one connecting it to mine." He finished, tons of chills dripping from every word he'd uttered.

My eyes remained wide, as various blinks escaped me.

And I remained speechless.

What the...

Not even awaiting any reaction from me, the absolute, controlling command of his majesty Ellington came:

"You're excused, Miss Reinhart."

I remained in my place. Unmoving.

What the... hell... was this?

He...

He only agreed with the Chairman because he did not apparently desire to pull off a disagreement but...

His plan was to impose his conditions on... Daisy...?

With no expectations of her to disobey, as his orders, if anything, will remove responsibilities off of her shoulders...

I opened my mouth to object, but then a thought hit me...

Particularly, the idea that all his demands did actually remove responsibilities from over Daisy's shoulders.

True...

Charlotte Thorne, who genuinely cared for him would certainly fight for that...

But a normal, random human who'd just arrived from a three houred travel...

Would certainly...

Take her time to think over, at least.

I bit my lips, hard.

Act smart, Char.

"I believe both you and myself, young master, have had a long day." I murmured, turning away from him, my heart aching. "I shall head to my room as requested, for tonight. Goodnight."

Dammit, I wanted to see you more.

I sighed, as I exited from the common door, shutting it behind me.

A long, relieved breath escaped me as I stepped into the very short link between my room and his. Frowning, I noticed a bathroom located in the link.

Wait...

The hell we... share a bathroom?

Well, one three times the size of my apartment, b-but still...

How... weird is this...

In a sense, the Chairman seemed to have given his son so much... interrelation with the space of his caretaker, no...?

My eyes widened at the thought.

Remembering the phrase of Trevor Ellington Conway from earlier.

'Caretaker, Alexander. You have no such thing as a personal assistant anymore.'

I gasped, loudly.

Of... Of course!

It all makes... sense... now.

My heart sank, as I remembered that Trevor Ellington Conway had realized my feelings towards his son.

He...

He certainly would aim for this...

To introduce another... random woman into the world of Rickard Ellington Conway.

And put her in the same vicinity as him.

Make them share a suite-like space...

In hopes Charlotte Thorne would just be... replaced.

Almost without noticing, I felt hot moisture crawl down my cheeks, as I placed my hand over my mouth to prevent a sob from escaping.

And somehow this... rejection of Mr. Ellington of the idea of a new personal 'assistant'... It came from him seeing through his father's plan.

Good lord...

If I hadn't come here as Daisy, then...

What... would have happened, I wonder...?

Stepping into my room, I locked the door behind me, and could not wait to take off my corset, high heels, braces, contact lenses, and mask as well as the tight maid attire I was in.

Getting into bed, I let out a soft breath as I gazed into my red hair at the pillow under my head.

I had to be strong to make it through this.

Remembering the ice-dipped commands of R.E.C., I let out a shaking breath, as Garrett's words earlier shot to my mind.



'Bare in mind that he's back to the estate of the man who'd shot him a week ago. Expect the worst.'



This made so much sense now.

Mr. Ellington... he looked so different.

I had expected for him to not acknowledge Daisy easily, just like he didn't acknowledge Charlotte at first.

But his attitude was even harsher than expected.

I got that he didn't wish to play along his father's plan.

But what he did not know was that the caretaker is me.

And his health is the greatest casualty here.

So I'd be damned if I just let things slip off so easily.

I needed to work my way around everything in this.

I needed to take care of him, no matter how high the walls he built were.

And I needed to do my investigation.

I can never give those two things up as long as I breathe in this estate...

With the last statement recurring in my head, I slowly slipped into dormant sleep.
.

.

.

I let out a panicky breath as I fixed my maid attire before the mirror in my now maid room.

The maid dressing was actually cute; it was a short black dress, tight on the waist and puffy downwards, with a white chiffon apron atop of it, in addition to white socks. An optional accessory along the attire was a cap-like hairband to put on my hair. I did put it on, as I actually liked it with Daisy's short, curvy red brick hair.

Making sure I looked fully unrecognizable, I looked into my now fake blue orbs in the mirror. "Alright, Daisy. Let's go!"

I cringed. I'm gonna need some time to adjust to this voice-changing effect of the mask, eh.

If anything, I sounded like a terribly sick Charlotte speaking through a broken phone.

So fair enough, I guess?

Exiting my room, I headed towards the door connecting my and that of Rickard Ellington Conway's.

Knocking, I let out a sigh.

...

Of course, no answer.

I waited a couple of minutes, before I sighed, pursing my lips:

"Young Master Ellington, I'll be coming in out of duty if I receive no command otherwise."

No answer.

Of course he wished not to answer to Daisy Reinhart.

Or maybe he was sleeping.

Either way, the safest bet to take was to come in.

This wasn't going to be easy, was it?

I reached for the knob, and twisted.

It wasn't locked, and I kinda had expected that. There was no point in locking, knowing I had a key like him as well.

Stepping in, chilly waves of air conditioning greeted me, mixed with the lingering scent of cigarettes and cologne.

I gulped, my gaze directly snapping towards the man whose presence occupied the room fully.

He sat in his bed, still half naked like I'd found him yesterday.

The bed sheets covered halfway till his abdomen, and clear gauze sheets covered his wounded area.

His face was turned towards the window, clearly gazing towards the endless green lands of surrey. A cigarette was laid on the side of an ashtray, on the chest of drawers beside his bed.

He didn't turn, nor even shoot me a glance, but left me to eye him silently.

Mouth-drooling profile. Perfect nose. Hard cheekbones and an angled jaw, long lashes, full lips, and enticingly beauteous eyes.

Biting my lips, I closed the door behind me, and his jaw moved slightly at this, yet he turned not towards me, as he took a drag from his cigarette.

I heaved a sigh of relief, thankful that I was at a good distance from the bed given the air conditioning as well. As such, I wouldn't get allergic from the smoke, hypothetically.



"I thought I had made myself clear yesterday, Signorina Reinhart?"



I shivered at the slow, demeaning, and utterly cold phrase which had come from his majesty in that thick accent of his.

Wetting my lips, I eyed him, "Yes, you did, sir." I started slowly and very carefully. "But I cannot neglect my duty so easily. I was appointed to take care of your health."

No reaction came from the president, as he simply puffed his smoke outside the window silently.

I reached for the phone in my pocket, which was different from the one I usually carry.

Yep, I had to buy a cheap new phone that barely served the purpose, all to remove suspicion in the process.

Anyhow, I'd documented his meds and meals with their timings this morning, so that I am constantly reminded with them throughout my day.

"So, do you have any preference in mind for your breakfast, sir?" I inquired carefully.

Deep, dangerous, and dark ocean pools finally shot towards me, and my blood went cold.

Mr. Ellington edged his head slightly in my direction at this, capturing my eyes.

He muttered not a single letter, but simply let his gaze torture me mercilessly. Putting the cigarette on the ashtray, he flinched not, as his jaw twitched.



"Your sense of duty is wasted." He muttered slowly yet dangerously. "I have no need for your services."



My stomach churned, and I gulped.

Dammit!

Fixing my eyes into his, despair washed through me...

As I saw how dead serious he was.

I gulped, clenching my fists, as my eyes snapped to the ashtray, seeing it already had a couple of buds choked off there.

No.

I won't let you.

My mind wandered off to Leonard Beards' words some time ago about Rickard Ellington's coping mechanism.

And how he tended to push himself to limits as he attempted to hold all the burdens and problems on his shoulders.

As toxically as possible.

I won't let you be that destructive to yourself.

First pushing everyone around you away.

And now messing with your health.

"I have strict orders for taking care of you, young master." I announced, my eyes flaming. "And you preventing me from executing my duties will result in my expulsion. Please understand that."

My heart ached at the coldness I'd attempted injecting my answer with. Goddammit, if he only knew that I just wanted for him to be okay...

But I guess the nice Cherry days are gone...

And the only way I could make my way through this was by pulling my shit together as Daisy.

My employer flinched not, and his expression remained as passive and unmoved as ever.

If I'd noticed one changed thing about him since yesterday, it is the fact that he...

Had become utterly passive.

Where I'd previously thought that Rickard Ellington Conway, the Great, was emotionless and possessed the most composed reactions I've ever seen, this was something else.



The Rickard Ellington Conway now possessed no reactions. At all.



Like a literal robot with not an essence of human emotion displayed on his majestic features.

It was not even similar to how I'd met him.

In a sense, he'd reminded me of demons we read about in fictional stories.

The ones that saw humans no different than insects and could not empathize with them because they felt nothing themselves.

His gaze... It was something like that.

In response to my statement, the president simply took a smooth drag of his cigarette, as he turned away, back to his laptop, fully ignoring my presence.



"If I prevent you from executing your duties without the Chairman knowing, you avoid expulsion." He murmured slowly, "But if you do execute your duties, and my feedback about you is negative in a week, then you will be expelled."



My eyes widened. "Huh?"

Suffocating his cigarette into the ashtray, he pulled another cigarette from the Insignia pack, but lit it not as he neared it to his lips.



"Working smart triumphs over working hard when you are under the employment of the Ellingtons, Miss Reinhart. Always."



My mouth went dry, and my stomach churned.

Shit.

Clenching my fists on either my sides, I fixed him with my gaze. How the hell do I reach you when you are like this?!

My eyes then widened, seeing he'd placed the unlit cigarette between his lips, and was preparing to light it.

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