POV: Erik

"What's gotten into you? Why would you invite Daniella into the Club?" asked Vincent to me when we were left alone in the table.

This man is notorious for his keen eyesight that's why we call him the Tactical Operations Specialist. He'd look at say, a blueprint of a castle, and in just an amount of thirty minutes he could already memorize all of the details in it. My plan, even though it is embedded in my brain, didn't escape his inquisition. Even though he looks like the combined Shakespeare and Beethoven with his talent in Arts and Music, he is one hard core killer.

Like me.

The only difference between us is I have killed more damned souls than him, and I enjoy it.

"I have my own reasons Vincent, " I stated whilst shifting in my seat. I stared at the half-finished cranberry juice Daniella had left, specifically the trace of pink lipstick on its rim.

"Yeah right... reasons, " he cracked a mocking grin. "I hope it is more important than her safety."

"She will be safe, " I remarked, addressing it in a different way. I can't really say that my selfish reasons are more important than her safety, but I can assure myself and the club that she'll be safe...with me. I have to nail this fact since I can't make the same mistake again like last year.

"Do tell me how when you know very well that our Club isn't just a club." He tapped a finger in his clean plate and waited for me to answer, but I didn't give him one. I just continued staring on the pink smudge; a wave of longing coming over me.

I heard him sigh then. "Really Erik, tell me what she means to you other than sharing one unexpected incident last year. I can't believe you are doing this, especially now that our goal is going uphill."

And I can't believe that this man in my front is nagging at me like an old hag. It made me cringe. It annoyed me. It pissed me off, so much that I announced without a second thought, "She is nothing to me."

"God, you're a big fat liar, " just as quickly, he reacted, disbelief stamped in his face, and like the tease that he is, he immediately proclaimed, "If she is nothing to you, then I can court her."

Somehow, when I saw the determination in his eyes, it made me feel that he wasn't teasing at all.

Damn, this Altair man.

My blood boiled for some reason.

"President, would you mind if you take that death-like stare away from me, please?" he stated even though he wasn't even looking at me and was focusing on the raspberry mascarpone he took from Daniella's plate.

Not waiting for him to scoop the stolen dessert, I stood up from my seat. "I'm going back to the chateau, " I announced dryly.

"Wait!" I saw him drop the spoon then. "I'm coming with you!"

"I thought you used your own car."

He stood up and using his fingers, he raked his wavy hair. "I didn't. I hitched a ride with Enrique earlier, but since he drove Daniella back, I don't have any means of transportation anymore."

I pressed my lips thinly. "Then, keep up the pace, " said I as I turned around.

"God, you're so stiff, Erik, " he mumbled, scrambling to get behind me.

POV: Daniella

There were two things that I did once I returned in my guest room.

First was I called my mother and informed her of my supposed decision. It was a good alibi; telling her that the Club wanted me as their member (which was true, except in a different way) and needed me to stay for six months to join their Club activities. Of course, my mother was all hyped up on it. She knew that I always dreamed about living in the chateau, and now that it was happening, she was all thumbs up on me without one hint of suspicion.

'Consider it your long overdue vacation, ' she told through the phone. I just nodded and made sounds of giggles so that she would think I was happy and excited about it. I am not honestly, but I would have if not for the Fancii blackmail brand stamped on my forehead.

The second thing that I did was to finish packing my bags. I only got one large suitcase and a small personal bag. Since Erik told me to wait in my room for Ian, I did whilst recollecting Ericka's over-the-top reaction when I shared the truth to her a few hours ago.

"Oh my God! Really? Really?! You are going to become his personal maid?" She was jumping excitedly in the center of her bed. I rolled my eyes in response. I was sitting in a sofa near the coffee table; in my front were the papers that I have signed.

"Shhh, keep your voice down! I don't want anybody to know that secret." I admonished her.

"Oh. My. God!" She squealed again and dragged her eyes heavenward, dismissing my words. "You and the President. I can't believe it!"

"I am just his maid, Kee. Don't think of anything beyond that, " I told her firmly, crossing my arms. Under normal circumstances, I would have rejoiced with her. I've had my own share of fantasies you know. I have daydreamed about a man who would sweep me off my feet like the ones I've read on billionaire-maid romance books. It is just unfortunate that I don't see anything other than bickering in between Erik and I, no matter how fucking hot and handsome he is.

"I know, I know..." she sighed and then bit her bottom lip. "I just couldn't hold myself. You know me, a hopeless romantic, but who knows, maybe this hunch of mine might hap—"

"Okay, stop, " I stood, unable to take in her goading. "I'm going back to my room. Kiss my mom for me when you get back in NY."

She gave me a cheeky grin and although she was still in the middle of her fangirling, she answered, "Sure, I will, boss. Enjoy your stay here."

The last thing I did was release an exasperated sigh before leaving her room. I couldn't help it, she just gave me a silly wink the ones like cartoon Cupids are supposed to do before they shoot an arrow to poor helpless humanity.

At exactly three o'clock in the afternoon, I heard a knock on my door. I immediately thought that it was the man Erik had sent to fetch me. I strolled out of my bedroom to the receiving room and then opened the main door.

"Good afternoon Madame, " a gray-haired man greeted, standing poised but with his head bent. He was wearing a well-ironed uniform similar to those I saw the chateau staff were wearing but he had a brooch of the Fancy Pants Club logo of two golden horses and a crown atop the FP initials. "I am Ian Thacher. The President told me to guide you to your new room."

"Good afternoon too, Mr. Ian. Yes, he informed me too."

"Are you ready Madame?"

"Yes, I am." I opened the door wider and revealed the big luggage stationed in a corner.

He stepped forward and took it. "Let me."

"Uh, thank you." I smiled.

My new room, he said, was in the fourth floor which only members can stay, so I expected that we had to manage the third floor staircase going up. When we reached the end of my hallway however, he raised his hand and motioned for me to follow him in another hallway that was slightly narrow. We managed a few more twists and turns and then reached into what looked to be a dead end, but upon closer inspection was actually an elevator.

Mr. Ian pressed the button and then dragged my suitcase inside, leaving me following behind him.

'Impressive' I said to myself. The club members really are strict on keeping their personal lives. They even have a private elevator to bring them to their own floor.

Since my guide was silent, I was silent. I didn't expect him to act like a tour guide for me at all. Anyway, I got an inkling that he most likely swore secrecy on any club information.

When we reached the fourth floor however, I couldn't contain my voice from escaping.

"Wow, " I said whilst scanning the whole area. The foyer was huge and it even boasted an octagon skylight that showed the blue sky. In every corner were Greek statues of women wearing flower wreaths and holding small jars and in the middle was the Greek God, Ares, but with a twist. It was actually holding a freaking life-like assault rifle instead of a sword.

For me it seemed odd, for everything looked fancy except this.

"This way Madame Rosecraft, " my attention of Ares was cut off when Mr. Ian showed me the way.

"Oh, okay." I jogged towards him.

We entered the west hallway where in the sides geode displays the size of four footballs could be seen. I watched in admiration at them, noticing thick mahogany doors as we passed by. We stopped in a door which was second to the last. The last one was right in the dead end, colored white, quite different from the previous doors which were maroon.

"This is your room Madame, " informed Mr. Ian to me. He opened the door and I went inside before him.

"Wow, " again I exclaimed. The room was much, much different from the guest room I had. It had more elaborate interior designs with beige as its main color motif. The drapes were damask, very fancy. The furniture was Victorian, very fancy too. And the crystal chandelier, wow, the fanciest of all in my eyes.

Thinking that I would be staying here for six months, I guess lessened my frustration. I am, in the first place, a sucker for all things elaborate and beauteous. But then, when I heard Mr. Ian's statement, I felt myself blanch.

"You are neighbors with the President, Madame. The one with the white door is his chamber."

"What?!" I said although I'm quite sure I heard it right.

"And this is yours." He pulled a small thin box from his uniform jacket and handed it to me.

"A cellphone?" And not just any cellphone, what I had in my hand is the latest model that Apple had developed.

My mouth dropped.

"The President says that you keep it. He had already readied it with applications so don't be surprised why the box seal is broken."

I shook my head slowly. "No, I can't take this. This is just too much, " I complained not realizing that I said it to the wrong man.

Mr. Ian gave me a kind smile and stated, "I guess you will have to tell that to President Erik himself, Madame."

"Is he inside his chamber now?" I asked directly, feeling like doing it ASAP. This kind of gift just makes me feel uneasy. In no way am I going to sleep peacefully tonight if this isn't returned to him.

"He is still...out of the chateau, but I believe he will be in his chamber come evening."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "Good. Thank you for the information Mr. Ian."

"You're welcome Madame, " he bowed low. "Well, if you don't have any more questions I will leave you to your comfort. And oh, by the way, how would you like your dinner served, Madame? Are you going to dine in the Club dining area or I will just send your food here?"

"Here is fine, Sir, " I replied after realizing that I am not yet ready to meet any other club members who would most likely bombard me with the same questions like what Vincent and Enrique had asked me earlier.

"I see. Then, here it is. I will serve it by seven later." He nodded once and then closed the door leaving me with the new phone and a bigger problem to solve.

How am I going to face Erik later?