She was just a girl who wished for the world, while he held it in the palm of his hand.
Sophia Drake was a woman of Intelligence and beauty. She often had the world on a string, wound tightly around her finger. However, she was broke. Dead broke. She had lived that way for a while. Her mother served as a waitress after her immigration from Italy. Her father worked as a mechanic, after his family came to America from Ireland. She was an interesting combination. The temper she held from both sides of her heritage, the Irish eyes she got from her father, Bright and dark green mixed with gold. That tanned Italian skin she got from her mother, and that mix of hair from both. Long, dark, and brunette, with tiny streaks of a rust color, much similar to that of her fathers. She often was alone, and her heart longed for a man to hold her like in many of her dreams.
Nicolas Knight was a man of strength, power, Intelligence, and much more. He was a kind of man every woman dreamt of. The kind of man a woman would only ever find in steamy romance novels or movies. He was all Italian, his family coming straight from Rome. He had it all. Dark, well kept, clean hair, tanned, muscular body. Strong, yet soft hands, and to top off his perfection, he was rich. Rich beyond your wildest dreams. He had the looks, the money, and hell, even the time. However he didn't have a woman. Yes, he liked his women very much so. However, when he had his scandalous affairs, it was to please the women, never him. He was the kind of man who wanted someone to come home to, even when he often didn't want to come home to himself.
He was an angry man when he wanted to be. He knew he had power and he took advantage of it. 'You do what you want, and in the end you will be remembered.' The words his father had spoken to him as a child still roamed his mind each day. He often hated himself for his anger, for he was a man of darkness, his childhood past often haunted him. And, when the night finally rolled around, he would either indulge himself in work, or lie there with tantalizing thoughts of lonesomeness.
She walked nervously to the gate of the mansion, a mansion that looked like a palace fit for a King and his Queen. At least three stories high, each in which she was sure was decorated with the finest from all over the world. Burgundy bricks coated the home like the frosting on a cake and a fountain sat openly just passed the gates. It was her first day as his maid, and she didn't know what to expect with a house like this or a man like him. She had frequently read about Mr. Knight in the papers. Often those same papers were the ones that had described him as an angry, yet handsome bachelor, that lived in only the finest homes across the world.
"You are the new maid, Correct?" The voice over the intercom spoke.
"Yes. I am." She said nervously, her voice with a slight tremble.
"Well then, Miss. Drake, welcome to Knight Mansion..." The voice trailed off before the black gates opened before her smoothly. What were she to do when she meets Mr. Knight? Bow at his feet? Kiss the ground he walks on? He was used to that. Very much he was.
She gently lifted the lion faced knocker, and knocked on the large door she stood before. 'A giant could fit into this doorway.' she thought. The door had slowly began to open.
"Hello, Miss. Drake." Nicolas greeted upon opening the door. And there, she stood across from a god that just so happened to walk upon earth. He stood in a crisp black suit, and a red button up shirt, with the first few buttons undone, showing a glimpse of his finely Italian made body.
"H-hello, Mr. Knight." She trembled. He was much taller than she, he being 6'3 and her only being 5'7, he was intimidating.
"Well don't just stand there and tremble like a leaf, Miss. Drake, come." He spoke sternly. His voice was deep, and attractive. He moved aside and raised his arm, motioning to go in. She did so. As she stepped in the door she was overtaken with beauty. Red painted walls, gold stairwell railings, dark maple wooden tables and so much more fine furniture.
"It's beautiful.." She trailed off, looking up to the ceiling, seeing a mural painted above them. An angel that stood, holding earth in her hands, and the heavens behind. He smirked only a small smirk.
"Well I'd hope so. I paid too much for it not be appealing." He said with a slight laugh. She turned to look at him once more. However, as she turned, her eyes caught his. They were a dazzling blue, the same blue you would see in a light, crystal ocean, after the first storm. Then, her eyes wondered down to his lips, the perfect shade of pink and so soft to even look upon. She watched intently as his lips slowly parted as if he were to say something. His lips then went into a line again, clearing his throat, and snapping her out of her thoughts about his most perfect looking features.
"I'm sorry. It's not polite to stare, it's just well- Oh, never mind that. Won't you please show me to my room?" She questioned trying to change the subject before she had embarrassed herself. At first he looked fascinated by the words going to come out of her mouth, but when she didn't say what he expected her to, his expression changed back to a simple look, like nothing had ever happened, like she had never been staring at all.
He showed her to her room which was on the second floor next to his office, and at the other end of the hall was his bedroom. When he opened the door, again, she was amazed by the beauty of it all. It was big, and white. The bed set looked like a cloud. The walls painted white, and golden essentials were placed upon the light oak wooden dressers. He laughed slightly at her amazement.
"You have never been to Rome, have you?" He said in his accent, an accent she thought she could never be bored of.
"No, I have not. My mother says she had visited when she was a child, but doesn't remember it well." She spoke, her eyes still trailing the room.
"Well, I assumed so. You are so amazed by the scenery of a simple home, clearly you haven't been to Rome; because Rome my dear, well that is beautiful. Not even I could buy it's beauty. Roma has many beautiful things, man made by my ancestors, beautiful things in which not even photographs can capture the essence of such historical beauty." He spoke gesturing with his hands. She laughed at the thought of him calling his home simple, for it was far from.
"Well maybe one day I will go. Then I will see what is so beautiful about it." She spoke. She was never so intrigued with Rome, for she enjoyed her mothers birth place Sicily, or even Naples.
"You don't seem too enthused." He spoke, tilting his head slightly, looking to her with curiosity on why she did not think his home country would be beautiful.
"I am. It's just that Rome has never fascinated me like Sicily, or even Naples. My mother was born in Sicily, and she had only great things to say of Naples, however, she never did talk about Roma, because she was young and had not remembered." She spoke. He nodded slightly understanding her words.
"That is very true, and I wish that one day you will be able to experience the love and beauty that is Roma. Now enough talk about that, you will start work bright and early tomorrow morning. For now, you may wonder your ways through the halls, however my office and bedroom are off limits. Do you understand?" He questioned looking down to her.
"Yes, Sir." She spoke in a quiet voice, being intimidated by him again.
After she had set up her things in her bedroom, she walked into the halls, wondering where she should go from there. She made a right towards his office and towards the staircase to the first floor. As she walked the marble stairs, staring off over the railing at scenery of his home, she felt as though each piece of furniture had a story back in it's home where it had been made. Many Italian made things lingered there. You could tell just by the carving details in the wood. The Italians and Greeks were well known for their attention to detail and beauty. However it was not that of Greece, it was of Rome. She knew it well. With that thought, she wondered if he had painted. Many Romans often enjoyed something they could do with detail, and with all the time on his hands, she wondered what he did. She was Sure he would be an exquisite painter, just by the look of his hands. They had known work, but they had the look of being delicate, not like that of a woman's, just delicate.. However, she could tell that they were strong, and steady hands. 'He would have made a fine surgeon.' She thought to herself at the thought of the steadiness of his hands.
It was now night, and she had finally made her way around the entire home except the last room on the right, on the first floor that she had not been aware of until the butler had told her. As she entered, her breath was almost stolen from her. Dark burgundy painted walls, an old, renaissance era fireplace that lingered in the middle of the room, sending off a wood burning smell. Dark, polished, wooden flooring, red velvet chairs facing the fire that burned even though no one was in the room besides her. The walls, they were lined with shelves of books. Some being old and some being new. The ceiling was high, and a skylight had been cut into it, showing the darkness of the night lit up with stars.
She came to her first bookshelf and ran her long, skinny fingers along the edge, feeling the smooth, dark wood. Then, her fingers trailed along the rows of books until one stood out to her. It was Dracula, written in 1897. It was the original copy. She couldn't believe her eyes as she pulled it from the shelf, it looked as if it was never read, never touched, like it had just been printed only yesterday. She didn't believe a copy as old as 1897 could have been kept in such well shape.
"You are wondering how that book looks the way it does, yes?" A voice came from behind her. She jumped a bit, startled. She then came to realize that Nicolas was in the doorway of the library.
"Oh, well, yes. I was. It looks as though it had just been printed, but it's one of the original copies. How?" She asked curiously, only taking glances in his direction because he looked divine during the night hours, as she had moments ago found out when she looked to him. He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore, instead just his red button down shirt and black trousers. His hair was no longer neat, but slightly messy and looked as if he had ran his hands through it multiple times tonight.