—Good morning, ma'am.

A low, thick, rough voice broke the quiet behind you. It was an unfamiliar voice, completely foreign to the ones you were used to hearing inside this house.

You turned and found a man you had never seen before. Tall and broad, built like someone who still trains, he wore an impeccable black suit that made the most of his bearing. His dark brown hair, slightly curly, framed a face with defined features. A small scar on one of his eyebrows drew attention, though it was his light brown eyes that were hardest to ignore.

He stood upright, hands relaxed at his sides and gaze fixed straight ahead. His expression was unreadable, almost inexpressive. He did not seem like a man who needed to make an effort to command respect.

—There you are at last!

Your guardian's voice burst into the foyer with a cheerfulness so exaggerated it was hard to believe. Lord Halverston approached with a rehearsed smile and placed a fleeting kiss on your cheek. You returned it with the fake smile you had learned to use in front of him so many times.

—I have something to introduce to you —he announced, gesturing carelessly toward the stranger—. He is your new chauffeur. You are free to send him away again.

He said it as if he were informing you of a simple change in the house's decor. No explanations. Without asking what you thought about it.

The man did not move. Not even when Halverston walked past him to head toward the door. He remained motionless, back straight and face serene, like a statue carved in dark marble.

Your new chauffeur.

What had happened to Mr. Cardell? After so many years in your family's service, his absence could not go unnoticed. And yet your guardian seemed too pleased with himself to offer a spontaneous explanation.

—I hope you two get along —Halverston added, adjusting his shirt cuffs—. He has experience and knows how to follow orders. You will have nothing to complain about.

His tone left no room for questions. With one last calculated smile, he headed for the exit, leaving you in front of a complete stranger who, apparently, would now be at your disposal.

Only then did the chauffeur turn his head slightly toward you. His light brown eyes met yours for the first time. His gaze was serene, piercing and difficult to decipher. A scar on his eyebrow and the firmness of his jaw gave him a dangerous air, though his manners remained impeccable.

He bowed his head with an almost military formality.

—At your orders, ma'am.

His deep voice resonated softly in the foyer. He opened his hand toward the exit, indicating that the vehicle was ready.

—Please, tell me where you would like me to take you and I will make sure you arrive without setbacks.

He paused briefly. His expression did not change, but his gaze lingered on you a moment longer before turning away with discretion.

—Whenever you wish, ma'am.

He offered no explanations about his arrival. He did not mention the man he had replaced either. He simply waited, impeccably dressed and with a disconcerting patience.

It was evident that your guardian had made that decision without consulting you. What you still did not know was who that man really was, why he had come to this house or how much your life would change from that encounter onward.