A limo came to retrieve Isla shortly after she and Jane finished packing up all the essentials.

She expected to be able to come back and grab whatever she needed if she later realized she had forgotten something, but just in case Arturo turned into an asshole about that as well, she decided to grab what she could.

For a start, her iPad, her kindle, and one of her jewelry making kits with some of the projects she was still working on half-finished inside. That was definitely important and could not be left behind. She also brought a couple changes of clothes, shoes, and toiletries, but she was stumped on what to bring as far as lingerie went.

While working at Baciami Boutique, one of the main perks—aside from making jewelry that her grandfather allowed her to sell in the store as part of the brand—she also got deeply discounted bras, panties, and even some teddies.

She didn't get them free, not with her family's work ethic, but the discount had been better than what the regular employees received.

For that reason, she had a ton of lingerie. Everything from sassy and cute, to sexy and naughty, in all styles and colors.

She brought seven pairs of panties and seven matching bras. For the bras, some were the lacy kind, the rest were push-ups. For the panties, none of them were cotton, but some were in the shapes of boy briefs, while the rest were thongs with lace trimming around her hips.

She liked those especially.

There. Arturo couldn't complain about this, or accuse her of purposely dragging her feet. This should be more than enough.

Jane hugged her at the door, and she had to admit it was somewhat worrying that her best friend looked like she was about to start crying. Her cheeks and eyes were getting that puffy redness that tended to come right before the waterworks.

She hugged her tight. "I'm not going to die. This will be fine. I'll get to stay in a big mansion and have servants and probably a tennis court and pool on site, and you'll get the entire place to yourself for a while. You can bring Don over and you won't have to worry about me walking in or disturbing anything."

Jane still didn't look happy. She would wallow in this for a while; she was sure of that.

She was going to have to call Don while she was in the limo to make sure he gave Jane a call. Maybe he would even come over and snuggle on the couch with her. That would make Jane feel better.

The driver approached Isla downstairs at the front doors. "Miss King?"

"That would be me."

"My name is Sam. I'll be your driver. Please, let me take these for you and we'll get you settled."

"Oh, okay." She should have seen this one coming. Of course, any driver Arturo used for any occasion would have to be super polite and professional.

It was also helpful that the guy was an interesting piece of eye candy. He was cute, not the boy-next-door type. His shoulders were too broad for that, and he had a square jaw. Even though he wore what had to be an upscale black suit, the way he stood and the size of his arms and waist gave her the impression he was totally ripped underneath his clothes.

He held the door to the limo open for her as he reached for the leather case in her hands, probably thinking it was another piece of luggage since she already had her purse, but she leaned away.

"Oh, sorry, this is important. I want to keep it with me."

She expected a lifted brow for that one at the very least. He didn't do any such thing. He just smiled and nodded. "Of course," he said. "Watch your feet."

He shut the door, and through the tinted window, she watched as he grabbed her luggage and brought it to the trunk.

She could hear him placing her luggage inside. He wasn't being rough with it. Maybe she shouldn't have panicked and just handed over the case.

No. Not worth the risk. She was a little on the OCD side when it came to her kits. She couldn't help herself. Everything had to be in a nice and neat order, or else she couldn't find the beads or crystals she wanted and it was all a mess. When travelling, her jewelry case always stayed with her so she could hold onto it, making sure it wasn't being tossed around.

Getting tossed around meant it was in danger of breaking open, no matter how good the snap. There were so many tiny parts in this case that she developed a slight sweat just thinking about them all spilling out.

She really hoped the driver wouldn't tell Arturo about this, about how the weirdo in the back of his vehicle refused to part ways with her precious case.

Sam came back and took his seat up front. He looked at her through the partition, a friendly smile on his face. "All right, are you ready to go?"

She glanced back up at her building. Was Jane staring down at her?

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said.

"Great." Sam put the limo in gear, and they were off.

He wasn't exactly chatty after that, and she couldn't tell if it was because he'd been trained not to be or if it was because he knew what she was going to his boss's house to do.

About ten minutes into the ride, he spoke. "There's refreshments in the mini fridge if you would like."

"Oh." She was stunned as she looked around. She'd been so focused on how quiet this trip was and where she was going that she'd completely failed to look around.

It wasn't her first time in a limo. Certain family events—like weddings, her prom, and even some business meetings she'd been allowed to attend for training—meant she'd seen her fair share of the inside of limos. The leather seats had been nice, but not shocking or new, and the space inside hadn’t been anything of a surprise.

This, however, was nothing like those other limos she'd been in. It wasn't just seats that wrapped around the interior, or even just a single spot with a television and a mini fridge. There was an entire entertainment system back here. A mini fridge was close to her, and when she opened it, she found an array of wines, sparkling waters, and even sodas—probably for the vodka.

There was also shrimp with sauce in there, too. Isla could just imagine the fun Arturo probably had in the back of this limo. If she searched around long enough, she would probably find a box of condoms somewhere.

He would probably want to have sex with her back here, too.

She shivered, not wanting to examine how much of it was caused by pleasure and excitement, she moved on.

Besides the sodas, shrimp, and other items that needed to be in a cool space, there was another little door that she opened. Within it were glasses and cutlery, along with a variety of snacks—chips, chocolates, nuts, anything dry. And of course, none of it was the corner store variety. It was all Godiva chocolates, cashew nuts, and the chips were organic kettle. There were even chocolate covered potato chips.

A mini freezer beside that contained small cartons of ice cream.

She totally went for the maple walnut.

"Thanks, Sam," she said, grabbing a spoon from the other door.

"Not a problem, miss," he said.

If he did know what she was off to do, then at least he was being polite about it. She decided she liked this guy.

"You don't look like you should be a limo driver," she said.

She saw his grin through the rearview mirror. "I get that from time to time."

"Are you modeling on the side?"

"I'm told I should," he said.

Halfway through her mini tub of ice cream, they made it to a gated community. She put away her treat, hoping Arturo wouldn't mind that she pigged out and ate so much. She wondered which house was his. They were all so big, with arching roofs and stone exteriors that made some of them look like little castles. Every lawn was well lit, and all the windows were insanely huge. Some yards had fountains and statues.

Seriously? She had grown up wealthy, but the house where she'd lived certainly hadn't been as big as these, and there definitely hadn't been any giant fountains on her front lawn.

Then they drove away from the houses and the road got a little darker.

"Where are we going?"

“Just a little farther.”

She had a sudden fear about this. She'd gotten into a limo with someone she didn't know, with all of her things, her ID, and her luggage. She hadn't even asked Sam for his own ID. If something happened to her, how long would it take before Jane reported it? And with her packing her things up and claiming to be away for an entire month, would the police even take a missing person's report seriously?

Thankfully, Sam pulled up to a large, black gate. It was far from the other houses, so she hadn’t even been aware they were coming up to it until he stopped the limo.

He leaned out the window and punched in a code on the keypad. She half expected him to give a retinal scan as well, and was kind of disappointed when he didn’t need to. The gates swung wide open for them.

He drove slowly after that. The house didn’t come into view until he cleared the hill.

She gasped. “There’s no way. Is this really where he lives?”

Sam smirked. She could see it when he looked at her through his rearview mirror. “This is really where he lives.”

Despite Sam’s confirmation, and despite the fact that Arturo was a billionaire, she still couldn’t quite believe it. This place looked like Windsor Castle. Every window was lit, there wasn’t a room that didn’t have a light on. The fountains in front of this house kicked the asses of the other fountains she’d seen.

This looked like a small castle. It probably was a castle. She was going to have to ask if Arturo owned any titles, like duke of this, or lord of that, or whatever.

Her inner sixteen-year-old was suddenly a lot more attracted to Arturo now that she had that particular thought in mind.

There were servants waiting for her at the door, two men and two women. The men were dressed in formal butler uniforms while the women wore black skirts with white aprons.

Right. Of course. She should have known. The only thing that didn’t make that sight so insanely creepy was that the skirts at least went to their knees. They weren’t thigh-high, sexual fantasy costumes bought online or wherever.

Her door was opened for her, and she stepped out.

She smiled at the man who’d gotten her door. “Thank you.”

The man grimaced, then cleared his throat. “This way, your room is ready for you. Martina will show you the way.”

“Oh, okay, great,” Isla said, not getting his reaction. He was another young-ish guy, had to be around her age or so, but his reaction was… she couldn’t put a word to it, other than it was unsettling. Was it because of what she was doing? Did he disapprove?

If that was the case, then screw him. She didn’t want to be his friend anyway.

From his indication, Martina was likely the thin woman with the soft smile on her face. Her black hair was pulled back in a bun that had a few strands falling out of it in a way that didn’t appear styled, but still managed to look good. There were several strands of greys in her hair, enough to mar the look of sleek black, but again, she managed to make it look good.

“If you will come with me, please. The boys will see to your luggage.”

She tried to take her kit from her, like Sam did, and just like before, Isla held back. “No, that’s all right. I’d like to hold this one.”

“Of course, this way, please,” she said.

Her friendliness seemed to be genuine. Either she didn’t know why Isla was here, or she was going to be pretty awesome and decide she didn’t care.

She really hoped it was the latter. Just because she was making the decision to not care about what people thought of her, didn’t mean she wanted everyone she met to be all judgy and self-righteous around her.

Guess that meant she actually did still care a little. She was going to have to work on that one.

Then she forgot to be anxious about what the staff thought of her when she stepped inside of the foyer.

The ceiling was high—stupidly high—and there was a chandelier above her head that she wouldn’t doubt had insanely expensive crystals dangling from it. The room was bright, even though it was after dark outside. The tiles were beige and white, with what looked like a mahogany side table that had a lamp on top of it. She didn’t know why it was there, or why someone had bothered to light it when it was already so nice and bright where she was. There was what looked like a Persian rug on the floor closer to the stairway, probably handmade and everything. From the look of the yellow curtains over the windows, she was willing to bet they were raw silk.

She was pretty sure that if she spoke, she would hear the echo of her own voice right back at her. That’s how large this one room was.

Her theory was proven somewhat correct when Martina moved forward, the clicking of her heels making something of a small echoing sound, along with her voice when she spoke. “This way, if you please.”

She looked behind her one last time, seeing the men pulling her bags out of the trunk of the limo.

One guy took both of her bags, while the woman approached her quickly. “Would you like me to bring you something to eat while you wait for Mr. Calendri?”

Her accent was soft and barely there, but Isla couldn’t tell if that was her natural dialect, or if it was because of how soft her voice was.

It must’ve freaked her out to see her standing there, looking at them instead of following Martina. “No, sorry, I was just going,” Isla answered, before turning and rushing after Martina, who was standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for her with a smile.

Isla’s face felt bright red when she made it to the top of the stairs.

Martina resumed their walk, leading her deeper into the mansion that might’ve been a castle.

“Where is Mr. Calendri?” she asked. She needed to talk. She wasn’t used to being silent and treating the staff like, well, the staff.

Growing up, there’s been a housekeeper and sometimes a cook, but that was about it. Isla, her brother, and her mother and father, had been on a first-name basis with the lot of them.

She wouldn’t have been shocked if she’d found out that Martina lived here in some small servants’ quarters in the basement.

“Arturo Calendri will return shortly. I was told to make you as comfortable as possible until he arrives,” Martina said, and Isla was so stupidly happy to see the woman smile at her again that her stomach fluttered. She seemed genuinely nice. No woman could fake a smile like that for long. “Also, please don’t mind Robert. The men were told not to speak to you unless absolutely necessary. They get a little nervous around Mr. Calendri.”

“They do?”

Isla and Martina rounded a corner.

“Not because there has been any violence against the staff, please do not mistake me,” Martina said.

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking that.”

The smile on Martina’s face told her that her little lie wasn’t being eaten up.

“Well, regardless, it’s the truth. Things have just been somewhat tense with the staff ever since the incident with Arturo’s mother.”

“I heard,” Isla said.

“Mr. Calendri is nothing like his father.”