CHAPTER 33: TEMPTATION

What are you doing, Nita?" David asked, a nervous smile on his face as he watched her walked down from the stairs.

Girls stood around the living room like fashion dolls. Everywhere he turned, there was a woman that made his throat bob and his palms sweat.

They didn’t speak.

They didn’t smile.

Didn’t move. They just bowed to him in sync. "Welcome home, Mr. Blackwood."

Each one of them was like a painting brought to life. Flawless skin, glassy eyes, bodies that looked carved by temptation itself, dressed tastefully in tailored black and white suit skirt, shirt, and blazer that somehow made them more alluringly threatening than anything short and revealing ever could.

David shifted uncomfortably, glancing at one near the fireplace who tilted her head slightly, as if taking mental notes. Another stood near the bar, hands folded delicately in front of her, but her eyes? Soft.

Anita descended the last step, white flat indoor slippers slapping softly against the marble floor as she moved toward her husband. Her pale, silky nightdress clung to her body like a second skin, the material whispering with every graceful step. The hem brushed her ankles, but the thin straps and the way it molded around her curves left little to the imagination.

David stood frozen.

Her presence stole the air from the room, cool, composed, and chillingly beautiful. Her blonde bob was clipped up into a messy bun, soft tendrils escaping to kiss her jawline. Her face was bare, glowing in that effortless way only a woman with nothing to prove could manage.

Her perfume was gentle to the nose. Fresh, clean, with a faint trace of something citrusy and green. Not seductive, not overpowering. Just...inviting. The kind of scent that made people lean closer without realizing it.

His throat moved. And his dick twitched.

He felt heat building in his gut, crawling up his spine like guilt dressed as desire.

David blinked, shook his head slightly, and forced himself to look away from her. But it was no use.

Girls were everywhere.

"You’re early," Anita moved forward, leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Her perfume hit him like a memory he couldn’t place but would never forget.

"Y—yes, I—" he began, his voice filled with confusion and uncertainty but before he could even get to finish she, she stepped away from him and turned to the ladies.

"Meet the househelps," Anita said calmly.

She wasn’t interested in his rubbish and couldn’t wait to shut him up.

David frowned, confused. "Househelps?"

He glanced from one to the other. The women remained silent, still as statues.

"Yes," she continued, turning slightly to glance at him over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "They clean. They decorate. They cook. They serve."

David’s frown deepened. His gaze raked the girls so hard he could almost see beyond their polished exterior, except he found nothing but professionalism.

"But why?" He turned to her.

David didn’t suspect anything. Anita had always been a sucker for beautiful, polished, clean, professional, and classy girls like herself. And it didn’t matter what their profession was. His own mother had maids that turned heads, but not as stainless as these ladies here, but he understood. Everything about Anita was perfection or nothing.

What David didn’t understand was a need for maids, when Anita made it clear in the past she didn’t need them in her home. Also, why so many of them?

Anita didn’t answer immediately she waved at the girls and they left.

One the living room was left for them both, she lowered herself onto the couch and crossed her legs, "Your presence in the house has dwindled in the past months. And I thought because the house was starting to bore you."

Her phone buzzed with a message. She lowered her gaze to her screen, saying, "Well, now it’s alive."

David laughed nervously, a little too loud. "Alive? Nita, this place feels like a... a silent cult of A Victoria secret agents." He sat opposite her, as if trying to reason with her.

David worked with women. He’d seen all kinds of women, but these ones were inside his own house. They weren’t just like other women on the streets or in his company. These girls were like she-wolves emitting pheromones in the air.

They weren’t seducing him, no. But he felt seduced.

God, no! He didn’t like this! Not in his house!

"You know this doesn’t look normal. It doesn’t feel normal. These women...they don’t look like housekeepers. They—"

"They’re the same with the ones at your mom’s, David." Anita continued, her tone as cool as ever, not even looking up from her phone. "Just better trained. Better paid. That’s all."

David stared at her, incredulous. "Better trained? For what exactly? To terrify me with synchronized greetings and expressionless faces? Like we’re in a hotel?"

She smiled faintly at that, but it wasn’t the kind of smile meant to reassure him. It was the kind you gave someone who didn’t understand the game they were in. "They’re capable of smiling too."

Before he could speak, she called out towards the kitchen, where the ladies went into.

"Zaria."

"Yes, ma’am."

Zaria walked out immediately after, standing before Anita and her husband.

"Smile for Mr. Blackwood."

Zaria turned her gaze to David, and slowly, a smile bloomed on her face. Her full lips parted to reveal perfect, pearly teeth, and a single, charming dimple appeared on her right cheek.

Her brown skin glowed under the warm lights, smooth as silk, flawless as porcelain, and her eyes shimmered with a softness that felt far too intimate for a stranger.

David’s breath caught in his throat.

Something about her felt... dangerous. Not in a threatening way. In a powerful way. Like she knew exactly what she looked like and what it could do to a man.

Zaria tilted her head slightly. "Welcome home, sir," she said sweetly, her voice sounded like warm honey.

David blinked rapidly, as if trying to shake himself free of a trance. He forced a tight smile and looked away, clearing his throat.

"That’s enough, Zaria," Anita said quietly.

Without another word, Zaria nodded and turned, gliding back toward the kitchen, her heels whispering against the marble like a lullaby of control.

Anita leaned back, arms resting lightly on the couch, her expression unreadable. "See? Smiles. You just didn’t ask nicely."

David stared at her, the unease pooling deep in his chest. "What is this, Nita? What the hell is going on here?"

Anita rose from her seat, "Don’t we have something to talk about over dinner?" she gave him her hand. "Come, food is ready."

David stared at her outstretched hand. He suddenly didn’t want to eat anymore. There was something about this whole set up that didn’t sit right with him.

Maybe because he didn’t trust himself around these women, especially after that smile the Zaria girl gave him. The smile didn’t only take his breath away, it revealed another side of her he unfortunately liked.

A more feminine, cute, tender, and playful side.

’No,’ he cautioned himself. ’I won’t stoop so low. I must make them leave. They can’t stay here.’