Chapter 47
– MAYA
B65 voucliers
Mr. Stone said goodbye to Beatrice with the rigid posture of a man used to making hard calls. Bald, pale-skinned, with refined features and an aristocratic air that clashed with his dirt-stained boots, he held her hand a second longer than politeness required.
“I wish you luck from here on out, my dear Beatrice,” he said quietly. “And don’t worry. What they did to my old friend Tharok won’t go unanswered. I’ll make sure justice is served.”
The long conversation had started in his office and ended in the garden, surrounded by carefully tended roses and weathered wooden benches. Mrs. Stone stood beside him, graceful even in simple clothes, while their daughter, Ayla, lingered a few steps back, watching everything with open curiosity. She was blonde like her mother, all easy smiles and sharp, observant eyes.
“Do you already have somewhere to stay?” Mrs. Stone asked gently.
Beatrice glanced at me before answering, as if drawing strength from my presence.
“Noty “Not yet. I was thinking about going back home for a few days, just until I find something here in Moonville.”
Then stay with us,” Mrs. Stone said immediately. She turned toward me next. “Your friend is welcome too.”
Ayla reacted as if she’d just been handed an unexpected gift. She clapped her hands, beaming.
I’d love to have girls my age around.”
Beatrice rubbed her cheek, clearly uncomfortable.
‘Oh no. I don’t want to be a burden.”
‘It wouldn’t be a burden at all,” Mr. Stone said, his tone polite but firm.
She took a deep breath, pride keeping her from accepting help without giving something back, even after she’d opened her home to me so generously these past days.
‘Please don’t take this the wrong way. I just feel awkward staying in someone else’s house like that. I think my friend and 1 can find work and pay for a room somewhere.”
Mrs. Stone tilted her head slightly, as if she’d already anticipated that answer.
Then why don’t you work here with us?”
I looked up instantly. A job?
“We need help with the cleaning around the farm,” she went on. “We pay well, and we also provide rooms for staff”
It sounded too perfect to be real. My chest warmed with a strange, bright feeling. I leaned toward Beatrice and whispered,
“It could be a good opportunity.”
She hesitated. I saw the conflict on her face, the instinct to refuse battling sheer exhaustion. Finally, she nodded.
“If I’m working and not causing trouble, then… okay. I accept.”
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6:17 pm P WMM.
Chapter 47
55 Vouchers
Mrs. Stone smiled. Ayla clapped again, and inside I practically screamed with joy. I was going to work. For the first time in my life. God, this is incredible.
The days that followed moved at a relentless pace. We woke up early, the scent of damp earth still hanging in the air, and went straight to work. I cleaned, hauled buckets, swept the long stable corridors, doing everything with energy, excitement, and a stupid grin I couldn’t wipe off my face.
Beatrice worked beside me. Some days she looked distant, and it made my chest tighten, knowing she was still carrying the weight of her father’s death. Other times we traded quick comments, quiet laughs. I hugged her whenever I could, trying to make her understand she wasn’t alone. Somehow, in such a short time, she’d become the sister I never had.
When our break finally came, Beatrice went to the kitchen to grab something for us to eat. I dropped onto a pile of hay in the barn, letting my body sink into the rough but oddly comforting surface. I folded my arms under my head and closed my
eyes.
And like always, the memory came uninvited.
That night in Átila’s arms. His weight over me. The heat. The sound of skin slapping against skin as we fucked like the world was ending. His scent still felt carved into my body. I reacted before I could stop myself, a deep, aching heat low in my belly, a longing that hurt.
I shoved the thought away and took a slow breath. Being away from him was worth it. I was building something of my own. I rolled onto my side and smiled to myself, imagining he might be proud if he knew I had a job now. It wasn’t glamorous, but earning my own money, not relying on anyone, made me feel worthy.
Then I heard it.
A low, muffled sound that didn’t belong in the farm’s quiet. A moan. Then another.
I frowned. Was I really hearing this, or was my mind playing tricks on me?
I sat up slowly, my heart racing for no clear reason. The sounds were coming from the far stables, where the light barely reached. I stood and walked carefully, passing restless horses stamping their hooves. The moans grew louder, clearer, mixed with heavy breathing and the unmistakable noise of bodies moving together.
When I turned the last corner, 1 froze.
Ayla.
The boss’s daughter was on top of the farmhand, her loose blonde hair swinging wildly. She was riding him without shame, hands braced on his broad chest, her body slamming down into his with every hard thrust. The dark stable seemed to pulse with the sounds of them, raw and out of control.
My mouth fell open.
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