Chapter 2 The mansion

I thought I would never see him again.

That was the deal. One night. No names. No future. I would take the envelope on the table in the morning and leave before he woke up.

I did leave before he woke up. I took the envelope and walked out of that penthouse with my head down, feeling both relieved and ashamed. I paid my rent that same day. I paid my mother's hospital support. For the first time in months, I could breathe.

But the money would not last forever. I needed a real job. A job that would not make me feel guilty when I looked in the mirror.

For one week, I searched again. I went to every agency in the city. I stood in long lines with other girls who were also desperate. On the eighth day, an agency called me.

"We have a live-in housekeeper position. Very big mansion. Rich family. Need someone immediately. They provide food and accommodation. Interested?"

I said yes without thinking. Live-in meant no more rent. Food and accommodation meant I could save. It sounded perfect.

The agency gave me an address on the hill. Richest part of the city. Houses there were not houses. They were palaces.

I took a bus and walked up the hill. My old bag on my shoulder. I wore my cleanest shirt and trousers. I tried to look responsible.

When I reached the gate, security checked my name and opened it. The mansion inside was huge. White walls, tall pillars, green garden, endless. A fountain in the middle of the driveway. I had only seen such houses in movies.

A stern woman in black uniform waited at the main door. She looked at me from head to toe.

"You are the new girl from the agency?"

"Yes, ma."

"Follow me. Do not touch anything. Madam is not around. The men are inside. You will meet them later. I will show you your room and duties."

She led me through the side entrance into the staff quarters. My room was small but clean. Much better than my old apartment. A bed, wardrobe, small window looking to the garden.

"You will clean the main living room, dining area, guest rooms. Assist the cook. Never enter the master's private study without permission. Understand?"

"Yes, ma."

"Good. The brothers will be back for lunch at one. Be ready with water and arrange the table. Don't stare. Don't speak unless spoken to."

Brothers? I thought it was one family. But I nodded.

At one o'clock, I heard cars arriving. Two cars. Doors closing. Voices.

I carried a tray of water to the dining room. My hands were slightly shaking because I wanted to make a good first impression. My eyes were low, arranging glasses.

Then footsteps behind me. Two sets.

And a voice I would never forget.

"What is taking so long with lunch?"

My blood froze.

That voice. Low, deep, commanding. The voice from the penthouse.

Slowly, I turned around.

He was standing in the doorway. The man from the penthouse. Now in a perfect grey suit. His hair neatly combed. He looked even more powerful and cold in daylight. His icy blue eyes looked at me with shock, then something else. Recognition. Anger. Disbelief.

He stared at me. I stared at him. The tray rattled.

"You?" he said quietly. The word cut through the air.

Before I could answer, another voice behind him.

"Who is this? Lunch is getting cold."

The second man stepped into the dining room. Younger, taller, in a different way, warmer face. Casual shirt, jeans, smiled easily. He looked familiar but I could not place him.

Then his eyes landed on me and his smile widened.

"Wait. Is that you? From college? Second row? Economics class?"

I looked again. That smile, those eyes. I remembered. He was in my class two years ago. He sat behind me. He helped me carry my books when I fell. The boy who always said hi but I never paid attention.

"It is you!" he said happily. He walked forward, ignoring the tension. "What are you doing here? I have not seen you since graduation. You look great."

He was genuinely happy to see me. Unlike his brother, his eyes were warm, brown, kind.

"I... I work here now," I said softly. "As a housekeeper."

"Housekeeper? You? You were top of the class. Why..."

"Go to the table," the first man interrupted. His voice was ice. He had not moved from the doorway. His eyes never left my face.

The younger looked between us, confused. "Do you two know each other?"

"No," I said quickly. Too quickly.

"Yes," the older said at the same time, his eyes locked on mine. "We have met."

The way he said it made my cheeks burn. I looked down immediately. My heart was beating fast.

The younger looked more confused but let it go. He pulled a chair. "Come, sit with us. You must be hungry. Tell me what you have been doing."

"She is staff," the older said sharply. "Staff does not eat with us. She has duties."

The words stung. Staff does not eat with us. One week ago, I was in his bed. Now I was staff.

"Don't be rude," the younger frowned at his brother. "She is my friend."

"She is an employee," the older repeated, his voice harder. "Employees have rules. She should go back to the kitchen."

I held the tray tightly. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me.

"It's okay," I whispered. "I will go to the kitchen. Sorry to disturb."

I turned to leave quickly. I needed to escape. I could feel the older one's eyes burning into my back.

"Wait," the younger called. He reached into his pocket and took out a small box. He walked to me and placed it in my hands. "I got this for you, actually. I got it yesterday for no reason. I was going to give it to someone but I think it suits you more. For old times."

I opened it with shaking hands. Inside was a delicate silver necklace with a small star.

"I cannot accept," I said.

"You can," he smiled. "Consider it a welcome gift. From an old classmate."

Behind us, a chair scraped loudly. The older sat down heavily. His face was dark, his jaw tight. He was watching the necklace like it was something offensive.

"Thank you," I said quietly to the younger, not knowing what else to do.

"Go now," the older ordered, his voice low, controlled, but full of anger.

I left fast. I ran to the kitchen, my heart pounding, the small box clutched in my hand.

In the kitchen, I leaned against the wall and tried to breathe.

What had I done? I thought I would never see the man from the penthouse again. Now I lived in his house. And his younger brother, the kind one from college, clearly liked me.

I looked at the necklace. Pretty, innocent. But I remembered the older one's angry eyes.

I was trapped. Between two brothers. One owned my secret. One wanted my heart.

And I had nowhere else to go. The job I needed to survive had become a trap I could not escape from easily.

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