Chapter 3 You Don't Need To Strip Me

Roselyn withdrew the bank card, holding it up with quiet defiance. "Let me make this clear first—the card was given to me. I didn't steal it. I'll come with you, but only because I want to see your boss for myself. Who does he think he is, threatening me and telling me what to do?"

Sebastian didn't bother responding. Instead, he flicked his hand, prompting the bodyguard to step forward and open the car door with polished precision.

"Miss White, whether you stole that card or simply stumbled upon it, my boss will hear your explanation himself." Sebastian guided her into the car and shut the door behind her.

Roselyn sat inside, her heart uneasy and full of dread about what lay ahead.

She had no sense of how long the ride lasted before the car eased to a stop. As she stepped out, the sight of the sprawling estate struck her silent, its grand architecture momentarily stunning her. The mansion towered before her, easily a thousand times larger than the modest apartment she rented.

Roselyn paused at the doorway, uncertain about stepping inside, when a maid in uniform came up to her.

"Follow me," she said, her tone edged with arrogance, before turning ahead.

Even a standard maid role in this upscale household demanded a degree from a prestigious university. In this place, maids weren't just hired to cook and clean—they were expected to bring a solid educational background with them.

It was Roselyn's first time inside a home so elaborately designed. Even the ceiling of the greenhouse shimmered with extravagant luxury.

In a guest room on the ground floor, several maids dressed in black and white circled Roselyn.

She recoiled, panic flaring. "What are you doing? You don't need to strip me just to get the card back."

The maids escorted Roselyn into an opulent bathroom, where even the mirror frames, faucets, and showerheads gleamed with solid gold.

"Before you see our boss, you need to have a bath and let us check your body. If you're hiding anything, it'll only cause trouble," said the same maid who'd guided her in.

"What kind of absurd rule is this? Is your boss supposed to be the President or what? Do I seriously have to be bathed and searched just to see him?" Roselyn objected, but in her dazed state, they forcefully pushed her into the bath.

The water was warm, held at a perfect temperature, and a faint scent of luxurious essential oil lingered in the air.

Roselyn's mind drifted, wondering just who this "boss" could be.

Once the maids left, she hesitated before removing her underwear. At first, she felt a pang of shyness, but the soothing warmth of the water, infused with the calming scent of oil, soon eased her tension. She leaned back, her body sinking into the bath, and exhaled deeply in satisfaction.

Her thoughts wandered. Could the man from the previous night have given her a stolen bank card? And now, the rightful owner had come to make trouble for her. But what kind of remarkable person could call a castle like this home?

When the bath ended, the maids returned, draping her in the latest haute couture dress, applying a subtle touch of makeup, and styling her hair simply but elegantly.

Roselyn watched in confusion. She had come here only to return the card—why were they so focused on her appearance?

"Our boss has arrived. Miss White, please come with me," a middle-aged butler said, his tone calm and polite as he ushered Roselyn out of the room.

Her heart quickened as she followed him down the stairs. The idea of an unknown man demanding the bank card, the maids using the bath as a pretext to search her, and then fussing over her makeup and hair—each step felt less like confronting a "thief" and more like a deliberate act of humiliation.

She stepped into the courtyard, where a line of luxury cars gleamed in the sunlight. From the first car, a tall figure emerged, his silhouette cutting a sharp contrast against the light. His long legs, clad in tailored suit pants, and the three-piece suit he wore added to his aura of distinction and aloofness.

As the man got closer, Roselyn was able to see his face properly at last.

"It's you," she said, her voice filled with surprise.