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My anger feels like a hot poker in my chest, stabbing me over and over again as I crawl along the floor like a dog without an ounce of dignity left. I don’t have to look at Miriam to know how much she’s enjoying this. I can feel her gaze boring into the back of my skull.
Judge leads me into my bedroom, and then to the adjoining bathroom. He nods to Miriam again, and she steps around me, staring down at me like I’m the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. She produces a raggedy-looking toothbrush and a pair of gloves, which she reluctantly hands over. Judge’s doing, I’m guessing. I’m sure if it were up to her, she’d probably make me lick the floor clean.
“You can start with the toilet,” she says, her tone haughty. “Don’t skimp on the scrubbing.”
Judge drops the leash from his hand, and it clinks against the floor as I stare at them both incredulously.
“You want me to clean the toilet with a toothbrush?”
“Details matter,” Miriam chirps. “Everything needs to be spotless.”
My gaze moves to the toothbrush, and for a moment, I wonder how it would feel to make her choke on it. But then I remember why I’m here. I despise Miriam with every part of my being. There’s no debating that. But my hatred of her doesn’t outweigh the love I have for my friends. I have to keep telling myself that as I crawl toward the toilet and peek over the bowl.
There’s already some blue cleaning solution in there, so at least there’s that. Despite what they may think, this isn’t the first time I’ve ever cleaned a toilet. I did my fair share of cleaning in boarding school when I got mouthy. But I’ve never had to clean anything with a toothbrush.
Regardless, I get to work because I just want to get it over with. I scrub the bowl for a solid ten minutes, and when I think I’m done, Miriam is quick to point out areas she wants me to redo. Meanwhile, Judge watches on in silence, and my resentment of him only grows.
When I’m finished with the toilet, she makes me wipe down the exterior with a cloth and then hands me another toothbrush and a bucket of soapy water for the floor. That takes me at least a full hour to clean because Miriam won’t shut her goddamn piehole about invisible specks of dirt she claims exist.
I’m shaking with bottled-up rage by the time I finish the bathroom, but it doesn’t end there. Next, they drag me to the kitchen, where I’m put on dishes and floor duty again. When that’s done, she makes me polish all of Judge’s shoes, and then to my horror, hers. Just when I think it might finally end, I’m told I have to clean her bathroom, which is truly fucking disgusting. It’s obvious she’s waited the entire week for this, and there’s piss all over the tile floor that makes me wonder if she even bothered using the toilet.
I’m on the verge of tears by the time I finally finish, but I don’t let them fall. I won’t let them see that they’ve won. I feel disgusting, humiliated, and beat down. All I want to do is crawl into the shower and then bed. But nothing with Judge is ever that simple.
“Now, tell her how sorry you are,” he says. “Tell her how much you appreciate everything she does for you here.”
I stare up at him with flamethrowers for eyes, wishing I could fucking strangle him right now. But I have to bite my tongue. If I can just do this one last thing, I’ll be done, and then I can get back to figuring out how the hell to get out of this place.
“I’m sorry you wound up with two black eyes.” I grit the words out as I glare up at Miriam. “I appreciate all that you do. The food, really, is top-notch. Michelin Star, I’d go as far as saying—”
“Mercedes.” Judge gives me a warning, but it’s cut off by his phone ringing.
He glances at the screen and then at me. “I have to take this. Don’t move.”
I watch him walk into the adjoining bedroom, where he’s still in view but out of earshot. Miriam’s lips curl into a wicked smile, and she cocks her head to the side, staring down at me as if she’s examining a bug.
“How did those words taste coming out of your mouth?”
I try to ignore her, but she’s not about to waste this opportunity.
“You know where you stand now. I’ve worked for this family for years, princess. He’s always going to take my word over yours.”
I clench my jaw, trying to contain myself. I know she’s goading me. She wants a reaction. But it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
“If you think you mean anything to him, you’d be sadly mistaken.” She flicks her gaze to the other room, and I follow it, noting the way Judge is smiling at whoever is on the line.
“I’d venture a guess that’s probably his favorite courtesan. He’s been meeting with her every night since you’ve been here. I’ve never seen him take a liking to anyone the way he has to her. Who knows, maybe he’ll even marry her.”
“You’re a liar,” I hiss.
“Am I?” She shrugs. “Believe what you want. It makes no difference to me. I’m not the idiot who thinks he actually wants you here.”
Her words hurt me, and I know she knows it. When I don’t say anything, she takes it upon herself to keep poking that wound.
“I wonder how much your brother paid him,” she ponders aloud. “In my opinion, there’s not enough money in the world to make it worthwhile. How does it feel to know that men have to be paid just to tolerate your company? I suppose that makes you no different than a whore.”
“Screw you,” I snarl. “You don’t know anything about my life.”
“Oh, I know plenty.” She offers me another evil smile. “These walls are… surprisingly thin. You’d be amazed at what one overhears. And you’d do well to remember that. It would be a shame if any of that information got out. Like your little secret about the courtesan you killed? I wonder what that would do to your reputation. I don’t imagine it would be a good look for you or your brother.”
