Taken by the Dark Billionaires by Chloe Kent

Author:Chloe Kent [Kent, Chloe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-26T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

With her body still trembling from emotion overload, it took Sutton all of five minutes to pack a bag. She didn’t have a choice—the words echoed in her head with every movement she made.

When she went downstairs, a limo—sticking out like a sore thumb in her neighborhood—was waiting for her. The friendly chauffeur introduced himself as Hans, took her suitcase and overnight bag, and opened the door to the passenger side of the car for her.

He continued to refer to her as Mistress Sutton despite her telling him to call her Sutton.

When they arrived at the billionaires’ house, a stiff, smartly dressed woman in a pantsuit introduced herself as Mrs. Hampstead, their housekeeper.

Without any of the warmth of Hans, Mrs. Hampstead showed her to her bedroom. Spectacular didn’t quite cover it. She was so overwhelmed by the sheer luxury that she wanted to laugh.

She felt entirely out of place in their house with her one meager suitcase and an overnight bag. She was sure Mrs. Hampstead had sneered at the sight of her luggage. Her bags were threadbare and patched together, but they still worked.

“We will have to get rid of those immediately,” she said, pointing to the bags that Sutton now held onto for dear life. And nope. It was conclusive that Mrs. Hampstead did, in fact, sneer. No doubt.

“I’ll be keeping these, thank you.” For a moment, Sutton wanted to apologize and give the housekeeper the bags to get rid of, but suddenly, she was also proud of herself for standing up.

“Fine. I will have one of the maids disinfect the room.” Mrs. Hampstead gave her another dirty look, as if Sutton herself were dirty, then walked to a closet and withdrew a gown from the rail. She also picked up a box of shoes.

“This is your dress. I’ve been instructed to let you know that you are to wear it tonight. Your shoes,” she said, pointing to the box. She opened a drawer. “Your undergarments and cosmetics.” She closed the drawer and opened another to reveal a range of sealed boxes of makeup.

“You are expected to be dressed at 7 p.m. You are not allowed to be late. Do you need anything else?” She clasped her hands together and turned her nose up at Sutton once more.

“No, thank you,” Sutton said, daring to maintain eye contact with her. For some reason, Mrs. Hampstead did not like her at all.

“Then I’ll bid you goodnight. I was instructed to prepare you a dinner, but it was short notice, so I made you a sandwich.” She nodded toward a cloche lying on a side table. “The rest of the staff will be taking care of you for the rest of the evening. Breakfast will be served at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning with Mr. Collin, Mr. Flynn, and Mr. Black. Don’t be late. It will reflect poorly on you.”

Happy to see her gone, once Sutton was alone, she sat on the bed, clutching her possessions like they were her lifeline.

She

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