"I don’t want to see you within ten feet of the master wing," Arthur dropped the verdict.
"Got it." Lake said quietly, he had hoped for that.
"And from today, you’ll be reassigned to laundry." Arthur tagged on, muddy brown eyes triumphant. "And I want you to begin by washing the curtains on the ground floor."
Lake could feel the exhaustion creeping over him as Arthur said that.
He had worked as a house staff long enough to not be given tasks like that anymore but he knew that Arthur had just been looking for a reason to punish him.
"Got it," He repeated, waiting for the butler to pile on more work.
To his surprise, it ended there, Arthur turning his nose up at him, his shrewd eyes staring openly at the tie around his neck.
"Accessories are frowned upon while working." He sneered.
Lake’s hand instinctively went to it, worried the butler would try to reach for it.
"I have a bad rash." He lied with a straight face.
Arthur walked off at that without another word, animosity rolling off him in waves.
Lake sighed when the matter wasn’t dragged out further, heading to his new station.
The laundry room was mostly empty so at least he wouldn’t be forced to share company with someone else while working.
By lunchtime, his wrists felt like they were going to fall off, and he felt sick from the smell of all the cleaning agents.
Just before a well-deserved lunch break, they were summoned to the foyer by Arthur.
The house staff of the Black House were no more than eight, not counting the cook and the gardeners who only came once a week.
There were two other male house staff but Lake was the only Omega, the other two were Betas.
Keeping a job of being a house staff in a Mafia House took a lot of effort because it was so easy for things to go wrong.
And Lake was pretty much one of the oldest staff here, not counting Arthur.
"Miss Matilda Black will be here very soon," Arthur paced back and forth in between them.
He made the house staff stand in two opposing rows of four, staring them down intimidatingly in his three-piece suit.
Lake tried to remember what he could about Matilda Black.
The maids were a treasure trove of information, and knowing things were important in his line of work, so he always paid attention to his surroundings.
She was actually very distantly related to Master Davian, although she clung tightly to the title of his aunt.
She was the daughter of the stepmother of the previous Mafia King.
Mafia King Alaric Black’s stepmom had remarried as soon as his dad was out of the picture.
Alaric Black had no ties to her but he didn’t completely cut her off out of respect.
Matilda was even further unrelated from the Black family but she insisted on using the Black name, even going as far as to use the surname for her only daughter.
"I want you to be on your very best behavior as your treatment of her reflects that of Master Davian."
Lake shifted his weight from one leg to another, he doubted they were that important. Miss Matilda Black wouldn’t even notice them.
He tuned out the rest of the butler’s preaching, he got especially infuriating whenever they got a visitor - which, fortunately, wasn’t very often.
Arthur made them stand in the foyer until Matilda showed up, eating into the time of their lunch break.
Lake was already in a foul mood when the double front doors were getting thrown open so a haughty-looking woman could walk in.
Matilda’s blonde hair was elegantly pinned back, she wore an all-white pantsuit, her coat thrown over her shoulders, expensive shades over her face.
He bowed with the others as was directed by Arthur, cautiously avoiding Matilda Black’s eyes.
Lake was certain that with his luck she would pick him as her scapegoat.
He quickly came to find out that avoiding her eyes didn’t help keep her attention from him.
Matilda walked right up to him with purpose, taking her shades off when she was right in front of him.
Cruel emerald green eyes glared down at him, and Lake wasn’t sure if holding her gaze was the best thing to do.
"You, what’s your name?" Matilda demanded although she had gotten a full detailed report of Lake and his background from Arthur.
"Lake," He replied quietly, well aware of how important tone was to people .
Matilda snorted, "Come with me." She ordered, continuing on her journey across the foyer.
Lake was caught off guard by that, glancing at Arthur but the butler had a blank look on.
Of course, why did he ever think that Arthur would willingly help him?
With every staff in the room looking just as confused as he felt, Lake had no choice but to follow after her.
The journey up the stairs was torturous, Matilda took her time going up like she owned the mansion, so he was forced to hobble behind her.
He didn’t notice that Arthur had been following until Matilda stopped at a receiving room.
Lake couldn’t remember the last time Matilda had been here, yet she navigated the mansion perfectly, it was almost like she knew it like the back of her hand.
He waited outside the room with her, some distance from her, wondering what they were waiting for.
It wasn’t until Arthur hurried forward to hold the door open for her that he realized.
"Would you like anything to drink, Miss Matilda?" Arthur asked sycophantically.
Lake hovered at the doorway, still completely clueless about what was going on, and why he was asked to be here.
"Chardonnay. Don’t bring me something inferior." Matilda said dismissively.
"Right away, Miss." Arthur bowed deeply before disappearing.
And Lake couldn’t say for sure, but it almost looked like the butler was smiling when he left the room.
"Come here." Matilda crooked a sharp-tipped finger at him.