Grey Lilies, Meli J Nightly [latest books to read txt] 📗

green eyes turn into hateful ones. But he did want to know if she was okay.

"If she did recover her memory and she ran away on her own, then so be it. Emir, just make sure she is okay and not wandering off in the streets. After all she had no place to go."

The short man nodded in acceptance to his brother’s request. But he on the other hand could not care less of what would happen to her. "I'll do what I can, brother."

The tall elegant man turned, his right hand found a small black ribbon in his red coat pocket. He swiftly tied the black ribbon making his long dark black hair into a pony tail. His cold gray eyes depicting emptiness and void. He had been selfish, scared and now he needed to move on. Continuing to hate the life he now had and the responsibility bestowed upon him since he was a child with his only escape now gone. He reached back into his pocket and he held a single lily on his right hand and a single thought in his mind, "I hope you can one day forgive me."

- Chapter 2 -

Stairs, that man and beautiful lilies. The same kind of lilies I saw in the hospital. The same three lilies I took with me. They have withered by now, but not my insatiable need to find out who I really am. However I often wonder if my life is something that I really should not know about. As far as I'm concerned, I am just a maid, with no family other than the Winchester family. They are a wealthy family in Versailles. Though I can't help but notice how unhappy they are. Was I happy before? I wonder. I still can't find that answer, but every time I think of that man whose face I cannot see in my dreams my heart skips a beat, as girlish as it may sound.

How can one love a faceless man?

D

ays had gone by pretty quickly in England, days became months, snow became water and the water nurtured the soil, blooming wonderful flowers all around. The Winchester summer home was as big as their home in Versailles. Everyday Samantha did her morning chores, cleaning each room with impeccable detail, placing all of Mr. Winchesters files in order. After she was done with her normal chores she was to attend the young master.

First thing, wake him up.

"It's a beautiful morning, young master Maxwell. You are not planning to stay in bed all day are you?" Her tone was always a kind and cheery one. Samantha opened up the curtains to shed light in the dark and gloomy room. Maxwell Winchester was an only son and sole heir of the Winchester Corporation. They had their riches from building boats to yachts for other powerful people. However they held another secret business which made them even more wealth than their own Corporation.

"Miss Sam... Just ten more minutes, please," a groggy voice pleaded from inside black satin bed sheets. She still couldn't get used to the fact that she was called 'Miss Samantha' by her young master, but he would not call her name without addressing her as Miss.

The other maids were really happy that Samantha was there, for they were not responsible of waking up the blond you any longer. It was nearly impossible for them to wake him up and after the utter failure they would always get scolded by the Mistress. But now, the responsibility belonged to Samantha and she made it look like a piece of cake. Maxwell was in his mid twenties almost the same age as dear Samantha, but he was childish and spoiled in many ways.

"If you don't wake up, I am not going to make the banana muffins you like so much..." Samantha persuaded him with a serious tone and her infamous -right hand on her hip- pose.

Maxwell sighed and knew that her banana muffins were the highlight of the day. Still she had no idea how she managed to remember the recipe or to make them. Just that one day she ate a banana and that triggered the recipe to come up in her mind. Even so she did not know where she learned it from. "It's better than nothing, I guess."

She thought to herself as she began picking up Maxwell's dirty clothes. His eyes began to follow her every move and Sam could feel it. This feeling reminded her of different pair of eyes, ones that also followed her every move... his fathers, . But the older man's eyes made her very uncomfortable, while Maxwell's eyes were more "innocent". Samantha turned to face him and smiled, "Yes, may I help you?"

The young man blushed when he realized he had been caught, he gave her a nervous smiled and said, "No, nothing."

"Well, I already prepared the bath for you. It will be good if you go in soon or it will get cold."

"Will do!" Maxwell said cheerfully. Everyone could see that he had changed from a depressed young man to a quite joyful one, especially when he was around Samantha. "Oh, Miss Samantha-"

"Yes, young master?"

"Can you meet me in the back garden in the evening right before the sun sets?" He asked her expectantly. His voice shacked from time to time when he spoke.

She curtsied, "Yes, of course. As soon as I finish helping your father with the books, I will be more than happy to accompany you."

"My father still has you working like a slave in those books? I am deeply sorry. That responsibility should be mine, but I am not any good with numbers. I am very ashamed to say so," he rubbed his neck and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Oh, please young master. Do not say such things. I am delighted to be of help. After all I am in your father’s debt. He saved my life," she explained whole heartedly and beamed the most sincere smile.

Maxwell's smile faded. He very well knew the truth – his father hadn't really saved her and she had never worked for them. But, he had grown so fond of her that he had become so selfish and decided to play along with his father. In doing so he avoided the questions that Samantha made about herself and her past, trying his best to avoid lying more than he needed to. At times he felt sorry for the poor girl, but even though he only knew her for a few months, he had grown to appreciate her presence more than anyone else’s.

Samantha pulled back her long wavy brown hair with a white hair clip. Her uniform suffocated her. Strange she thought since she had supposedly worked for them 'for years’; the thought of being used to such a uniform came to mind. She quickly unbuttoned one of the buttons that went up to her neck. After all, Mistress wasn't around and she was strict one when it came to the uniform. Mrs. Winchester however, only scolded her. It was always the same story with ordering her to button up her blouse up to her neck. "I wonder why she dislikes me so much. Could I have done something to upset her? I cannot for the life of me remember."

"What news do you have on that woman?" Emir questioned the two men in black suits.

"Sir Emir, we have reports from agents in Nottingham, England. She is with the Winchester family, working as their maid.”

"She is a servant?" He burst out in laughter. "Well, well isn't that nice? She prefers to be their maid than to be with us. A smart one that girl is, I tell ya." He continued to laugh in between words.

The other man in a black suit continued with the report, "We also have information that she has yet to recover her memory."

Emir's expression turned into a serious one in no time. He combed his black hair with his hand. Emir was far different from his brother in many ways, from his straight black hair to his blue eyes and he was also shorter than his brother. There was also the fact that he secretly hated Samantha. Emir reached into his pocket and took out a tin. He stared at it for a moment in silent contemplation, deridingly he took out a cigarette, he lit it and before placing it in his mouth he smiled. "I will give the report to my brother myself."

One of the man gulped and apologized, "I am truly sorry Sir Emir, but I was ordered directly by the young Master Nathaniel to personally give him the report."

"Are you forgetting who is the older one in this family?" Emir asked menacingly. His eyes pleading to be defied. He hated that his brother had more power over him, that his father left Nathaniel as a successor and not him. After all he was the older one, but her very well knew who his father's favorite was.

"I understand Sir Emir-"

"It seems you do not understand... that I am too a Vanderwood. And as such you also have to obey me..."Before he could finish Emir had buried the lit up cigarette in one of the agent’s hands. The agent did his best to control the pain. While the other one kept on looking forward trying to avoid Emir's eyes. "I will take the report to my brother. You will both continue the surveillance for that broad." He tapped on the hurting agents shoulder and smirked, "Keep the cigarette."




Numbers came quite easily for our dear Samantha. It was like a second language for her. Even if she did not know what those numbers meant or what in reality they personified, she continued to do her work. What for Mr. Winchester and his accountants seemed impossible for Samantha it was something she could solve with her hands tied. The accountants were mesmerized by her ability to find irregularities in the accounting books and the fact that she was able to save millions with few numbers moved here and there. But soon however the accountants stopped showing up and all who were left in that room was her with those books and Mr. Winchester.

She sometimes dreaded those hours. His gaze would never leave her, she tried to tell herself that maybe he could not trust her and that's why he never left her side. But she was soon to realize that her theory was all wrong.

"You know Samantha... you are very beautiful," the man cooed in her ear, Sam was so concentrated that she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice so near. "Your beautiful shiny hair, your skin which looks so soft and delicate... just like a porcelain doll." His voice was raspy and she could feel his breathing so close to her ear. He placed his right hand on Samantha's head, stroking her hair softly. The young woman reacted quickly by nearly jumping off her seat.

"Mr. Winchester?" She had a puzzled look on her face. That is exactly what she always tried to dismiss. But the old man did not desist instead he seemed more aroused by her reaction.

"Oh, I know you might not remember. But we used to have so much fun when Mrs. Winchester was out shopping," he cackled.

'That can't be true!' Her thoughts screamed out. Her green eyes opened wide in disbelief, it was true she