The message came through a private agency I had only heard about in whispers.

Position available. Live-in. Discretion absolute. Compensation life-changing. Interview tonight.

I almost deleted it. Then I looked at the final medical bill on my counter and the eviction notice underneath it. My father’s debt hadn’t died with him. It had simply transferred onto my name. So at 9:40 p.m. I walked into a glass building in midtown wearing the only decent dress I still owned.

Alexander Kane did not meet me in an office.

I was taken up to a private floor where the walls were dark stone and the windows stretched from ceiling to floor. He...