Twenty-One
BEN
December 13, Noon
Day 2 Eliminations
Mei had barely slippedthe broken vase into the evidence bag before I knew exactly how this day was going to end.
Not the challenge and not the eliminations.
Chrissy.
Her name had been a low, steady thrum at the back of my skull since she’d stepped into the library. Since she’d looked around like she saw possibility instead of dust. Since she’d smiled at Mei — that soft, open smile she didn’t give anyone else.
But the moment she dropped to her knees to shield my maid from consequences she didn’t deserve? That was when the fuse really caught fire. And her volunteering herself as the one responsible? That was when the fuse hit the damn powder keg.
I followed her back to the great room at a distance, staying half a step behind her the way a servant would. Shoulders relaxed. Gaze lowered. The harmless, scarred groundskeeper nobody bothered to notice. But inside, I wasn’t calm at all. Inside, I was a storm.
She had no idea whose attention she’d grabbed. No idea what it meant to step into the path of my supposed anger, or my interest. No idea what I planned to do to her. For her. With her.
She had no idea that ‘punishment’ wasn’t a threat for me. It was a promise, and she’d just begged for it.
The women gathered in clusters as Henry stepped in front of the fireplace again. He hadn’t said the true purpose of the challenge this morning — because that would’ve ruined the fun. You don’t warn your prey to watch its step. You let it walk into the snare you set.
He’d been with me long enough to know my mind: I didn’t care about curtains, or paint swatches, or how well someone could coordinate a pillow set. Anyone could decorate. Very few could treat the people the world deemed beneath them like human beings.
I took my place with the other staff, shoulders slightly bowed, hands clasped behind my back. Ben Stonewood wouldn’t stand here. He didn’t blend in. He was the center of gravity in every room he entered. Jacob slipped into the background like fog.
Chrissy kept glancing my way, as if making sure I was still alive after the explosion of porcelain and the whispered threats in the hallway. She didn’t know she was looking at the same man she was terrified of seeing later tonight. More than that, she didn’t know how much her terror delighted me.
Henry cleared his throat.
“Today’s challenge,” he began, his voice cool and even, “revealed more than some of you intended.”
A few women straightened, preening.
Fucking idiots.
“It wasn’t just about design.”
The room went still.
“It wasn’t about style, either.”
A few of the bolder ‘contestants’ frowned.
“And it wasn’t about how the room looked in the end.”
Now the panic started.
Henry’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“It was about the one thing money can’t teach: character.”
Chrissy’s breath hitched. I felt it, even from across the room.
“You were judged,” Henry continued, “on how you spoke to Mr. Stonewood’s staff. On how you handled setbacks. On whether you treated people as tools or teammates. Some of you rose to the occasion.”
