Page 118 of King of Omen

Which was the truth.

Linda and I spent the rest of the evening chatting and catching up on everything that had happened while I’d been away.

However, I couldn’t shake the gnawing suspicion that something was off.

I shrugged, confident in Lorenzo’s hired security detail outside, parked on the street, keeping an eye on me.

It was the only reason I relaxed, drank my wine, and exchanged inane stories with Linda. We binged a few episodes of Bridgerton on Netflix before I begged off to sleep.

Early the following day, I had a cleaning job to get to.

It was at a sprawling mansion in the Eastern Suburbs, home to a wealthy doctor. I had been hired for regular housekeeping services, which was a steady source of income for me.

As I walked through the grand entrance hall, I marvelled at the opulence of the fifteen-bedroom house. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, marble floors shone underfoot, and expensive artwork adorned the walls.

I used to dream of living in such luxury, but now that I was here as a cleaner, it didn’t appeal to me. It was just too big and impersonal.

I preferred fewer bedrooms and more comfort, with a touch of elegance, realising Lorenzo’s home was exactly that. Damn, I missed him.

I got to work, dusting and polishing every surface within reach.

Three hours later, I still hadn’t made much inroads.

The house was massive.

This was no small job, I thought.

I still had four additional double bedrooms to tackle on the upper floor.

Sighing, I started by stripping the beds and remaking them with fresh sheets and crisp pillowcases. I hauled the used linen into a giant ball and dragged it out of the room to the laundry, where I began a wash cycle.

Back upstairs, I tidied up and dusted.

I did a quick vacuum and then sprayed an eco-friendly glass cleaner onto the floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the breathtaking view.

A little later, hands aching, I packed up and left the house.

As I stored my gear in my van, I felt like someone was watching me.

I turned and spotted a figure on the opposite street corner, silhouetted against the skyline, dressed head-to-toe in black, his face concealed by a hoodie and sunglasses.

I couldn’t shake the sensation he was familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

A wave of unease washed over me.

I got into my van and locked the doors, starting the engine.

I glanced in my rearview mirror and tagged the figure still standing on the corner, watching me.

Heart pounding in my chest, I raced away.

I kept the encounter to myself, deciding I didn’t want to bother Lorenzo.

Knowing full well the second he found out, he’d move heaven and earth to protect me, which would, in effect, make me his semi-willing captive once more. I had no plans to let that happen.

I loved my freedom way too much.

So even though we caught up for romantic dinners during the week and I spent all weekends at his house, I remained mum.

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