“No matter what it takes, I’ll save Dad!” Nicole Webb clutched the knife, tucked it under her black hoodie, and knocked on the hotel door.

The door clicked open.

A hand shot out from the darkness and yanked her inside!

“Get your hands off me!” Nicole shouted as she was thrown onto the bed. She couldn’t see a thing. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on the knife and slashed it blindly through the air.

She was there to beg River Johnson—her adversary—to release her wrongfully imprisoned father. If this older man tried anything shady, she was ready to fight back with everything she had.

“Trying to kill me?”

A cold voice cut through the darkness above her.

Mathew Rogers’s sharp eyes glinted in the dim light as he pinned her wrist above her head. “Tell me. Who sent you?”

“You asked to meet me! Wait—you’re not River Johnson!” Nicole burst out. “River’s nearly fifty, and you sound way too young!”

Before she could explain, Mathew caught her wrist again. The knife fell onto the carpet.

“Someone sent you to my room with a weapon,” he said. “Give me one reason not to call security.”

“No one sent me to you. I came to meet River Johnson. I have the messages to prove it.”

He released her the moment she stopped struggling. Nicole fumbled for her phone, only to find its screen cracked. Across the room, Mathew's own phone lit up with an alert: his reservation had been switched at the last minute.

A setup. Someone wanted them both in this room.

The hotel door rattled. Voices sounded in the hallway, followed by the unmistakable click of a camera shutter.

“Stay away from the door,” Mathew warned, putting himself between her and the strangers outside.

“I don't take orders from you.” But when a man outside called her name, she went still. The people hunting her father had found her.

Mathew looked at her properly for the first time. Beneath her anger was real fear.

“There's a service exit,” he said. “You can leave. I won't stop you.”

Nicole hesitated. She didn't trust him. But the footsteps outside were getting closer.

She followed him into the service corridor. At the emergency stairwell, Mathew checked the security feed on his phone. Men with cameras were waiting at both exits. The hotel had been turned into a trap.

"There's a private suite upstairs," he said. "You can wait there until security clears a route. Or I can call the police and you can tell them everything. Your choice."

Nicole studied him. "No locked doors. And you stay away from my phone."

"Agreed."

By midnight, the hallway was quiet. The suite door stood unlocked, her phone was charging beside her, and the police had been alerted to the men outside. Mathew had arranged a car for dawn. Nicole could have left at any time.

"July seventh," she murmured, checking the date on her phone. "I thought tonight would end with my father coming home."

"I know what it's like to have a family someone can use against you," Mathew said. His voice was quieter now, stripped of the arrogance she'd heard downstairs.

For the first time, she looked beyond the expensive suit and the suspicion in his eyes. He had believed her when no one else would. She hated how much that mattered.

Mathew stepped closer, then stopped. "I should go."

"Wait." Nicole caught his sleeve. He looked at her hand, but didn't move. "I'm not asking you to rescue me. And I'm not confused about what I'm doing."

"Neither am I." His gaze searched hers. "But I won't touch you unless you want me to."

She had every reason to walk away. Instead, Nicole reached up and kissed him. He drew back just enough to ask, "Are you sure?"

"Yes." She met his eyes. "I want this."

The kiss that followed was unhurried, a choice they made together. Later, when he asked again, she answered without hesitation. Clear-minded and fully aware of the quiet between them, they chose each other without hesitation. For one stolen night, two strangers stopped fighting the world and let themselves be close.

At dawn, Nicole woke alone in the suite. A note beside her phone said that a car was waiting downstairs and the security footage had been preserved for her. Then a message arrived: her father's appeal had failed. By the time Mathew returned from speaking to the authorities, Nicole had gone to find out what happened. She left no name beyond the one she'd used to book the room, and he knew only that she'd come armed and desperate to meet another man. Each believed the other was connected to the trap.

Five years later.

Nicole stepped out of the airport in a deliberately frizzy wig, oversized glasses, and badly blended makeup, five little boys trailing behind her.

Screech—

A luxury car pulled up.

The door opened, and bodyguards formed a respectful line on either side.

“Wow! Mom, is Dad here to pick us up?” Little Kolson jumped up eagerly.

Kaden, ever serious, replied, “Don’t kid yourself. Mom already told us—we don’t have a dad!”

“That’s right,” Nicole said, adjusting her black-framed glasses with practiced grace. A flicker of bitterness passed through her eyes. “Five years ago, your father was in Europe when he tragically died in a volcanic eruption.”

She had never learned the stranger’s real name. For years she had blamed the disastrous night at the hotel for the collapse of her plan to save her father, even though she remembered choosing to be with the man who had helped her escape. The memory was too tangled with grief to explain to five curious boys.

“Uh… Mom, didn’t you say last time that Dad got eaten by a shark?” the second boy asked.

“What? You’ve got it wrong! I heard he died of thirst after wandering the desert for a week!” the third added.

“No, no, no—you’re all mixed up! Daddy was definitely hit by a falling meteorite!” the fourth cut in.

Nicole sighed. “All right, stop bickering, all of you!”

“So how did Daddy really die? Mom, are you lying to us?” Kaden asked suspiciously.

“Don’t ask. Just know that your dad is no longer with us!”

“Hmph. Mom’s just dodging the question again. Actually…” Little Kolson whispered, “I did a tarot reading, and the cards say Dad is still alive. Right here!”

“Where? Where?”

The other kids eagerly scanned their surroundings.

At that moment—

“Achoo! Achoo!”

Sneezes burst from the luxury car.

A pair of polished black leather shoes slowly stepped out.

A dignified, strikingly handsome man emerged from the car.

Mathew Rogers stepped out in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, a black-and-gold handkerchief pressed to his face, carrying a delicate, doll-like little girl in his arms.

They walked past the children.

The kids, each sporting a flamboyant wig, stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

“She’s so pretty, just like a little princess. I think… I-I’m in love with her!” the third child exclaimed.

“What kind of nonsense is that? You’re way too young for love!” Nicole said, ruffling his hair in exasperation.

Just then, a battered pickup truck with a rattling muffler pulled up in front of them.

“Wow! What a big go-kart!” Little Kolson exclaimed.

“It’s an old pickup,” Kaden corrected.

“Is it here to pick us up?” the second child wondered.

“I’m not riding that old thing. I want the luxury car!” the third child said disdainfully.

“Dream on. That’s about the only place that’s happening,” Nicole replied.

At that moment, her cousin climbed out of the pickup, his ponytail swinging as he flashed a bright smile.

“Nicole, you’re finally back! I just finished harvesting some crops. I’ll make pulled pork sandwiches for you and the kids!”

“Thanks, Mark!”

When her father went bankrupt and was arrested, their relatives had vanished like smoke. But her cousin—a farmer—had been willing to dip into his savings to send her abroad, and now he was welcoming her home. Nicole couldn’t have been more grateful.

“No problem. These little ones are so handsome!”

He quickly helped them buckle into the pickup and drove away.

The little girl in Mathew’s arms looked back, watching the pickup disappear.

Clutching her doll, she pressed a hand to her chest. “It hurts…”

“Hmm?” Mathew’s eyes narrowed. He tightened his hold on her. “Brynlee, did you just speak?”

The butler and guards around him were stunned—then thrilled.

Mathew had booked an entire flight to bring his daughter to the U.S. for treatment for her speech impairment.

Yet she had spoken on her own.

“J-K-L-1-3-5-7-9…” Brynlee murmured, repeating a string of seemingly random numbers.

“Remember them and find them!”

“Yes, sir!”

Mathew gazed at his daughter, his icy voice softening. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve sent someone to find them. You can tell me why they matter to you when they get here, okay?”

Brynlee nodded eagerly.

As they passed by, Brynlee’s heart had suddenly raced, filled with an inexplicable longing—as if something was calling out to her…

At the farmhouse, the tempting smell of pulled pork sandwiches filled the air.

The family of seven gathered around, mouths watering—but before they could dig in—

Bang! Bang! Someone pounded violently on the wooden door!

The noise rang through Nicole’s mind. She went on high alert, shoving the children into a closet.

“Hurry, hide well!”

“What’s happening?” her cousin asked, following her inside.

The children were stunned by the sudden chaos.

“They must be after me…” Nicole’s eyes darkened. She clenched her fists, forcing down her fear. “Before my dad was arrested, he told me over and over that he didn’t kill anyone. The evidence is hidden in our old home. I couldn’t find it before they came after me. Even abroad, they didn’t stop. I came back to clear my father’s name—changed my identity, disguised myself. And still, they found us… Cousin, I can’t drag you and the kids into this. Please take care of them. I’m going out to check.”

“No way! Mom, you’ll be in danger!”

The children cried, clinging to her.

“Don’t leave us, Mom!”

“Nicole, you can’t get hurt. I’ll handle things here. You take the kids and leave through the back door!” her cousin insisted.

Just as he finished speaking, the courtyard gate was breached.

Nicole steeled herself, pried the children’s hands off, and charged toward danger.

"Are you the only one living here?"

The leader—Ariel Hamilton—pulled off his sunglasses and studied her like he was trying to read her mind.

"Yes, it's just me. Do whatever you want—I'm not scared." Nicole Webb lifted her chin, eyes flashing with defiance.

"That old pickup outside—is it yours?"

Nicole hesitated, then nodded anyway.

"Good. Looks like you're exactly who Miss Brynlee's been looking for." Ariel flicked a hand at his men. "Take her."

Nicole dragged in a breath and glanced back at the house.

Stay safe, my children. Mommy will come back to you.

"Mommy!" The kids sobbed, their little faces streaked with tears.

"Why are you taking our mommy away?"

"Bad men! Give us our mommy back!"

The moment the men in black dragged Nicole away, the children cried even harder.

"Don't be scared, kids," Mark said, his eyes shining with forced optimism. "I'm pretty sure they won't hurt your mom. They probably have their reasons. Let's wait here and be patient. Maybe Mommy will be home soon."

In the car, Nicole sat wedged between two bodyguards in the back seat.

"Miss Brynlee's suddenly interested in this country girl?"

"Yeah. Not sure if this is gonna please him, but we'll bring her back for now..."

"Hey—where are you taking me? And who the hell is Miss Brynlee? Do I know her?" It hit Nicole then: these men probably weren't sent by River Johnson. They belonged to someone else entirely.

"Stop asking questions. You'll find out soon enough." Ariel sounded impatient. His gaze snagged on her wild hair.

"We're here. Get out."

The bodyguards pulled her out and marched her into a lavish estate. A grand equestrian arena, a rooftop garden—Nicole was speechless.

Her family had moved among the elite, but she'd never seen anything like this. Whoever owned this place was obscenely rich.

"Sit here and wait." Nicole was shoved onto a bench in the grand hall.

Mathew Rogers came down the opulent staircase, his daughter's hand in his.

He was devastatingly handsome—well over six feet, with a magnetic presence and a stare that demanded obedience.

The little girl clutched a worn-out doll and wore a simple vintage-inspired dress. There was something oddly mysterious about her...

Nicole froze.

That doll.

She'd seen it in her father's study. When he left for Europe, he'd taken that exact doll with him...

Her father had been arrested the moment he came home—and executed soon after...

"Brynlee, is this the scruffy little creature you wanted to find?" Mathew's cold eyes swept over Nicole with disdain.

The little girl's face flushed with an emotion she didn't recognize, her little heart pounding like crazy.

She'd never felt anything so overwhelming.

"I want her."

The little girl pointed at Nicole with imperious certainty, her English perfect.

Nicole felt heat rush to her cheeks.

"Would you mind telling me why you brought me here?"

Mathew gave his daughter a slight nod. She obediently hurried upstairs.

Now it was up to Daddy to handle this.

Mathew strolled toward Nicole with an easy elegance, his gaze lazily taking in her messy hair, heavily made-up face, and sun-kissed skin.

Nicole looked up, confused, and met his icy gaze through her thick glasses.

"Unattractive." Mathew looked away with cool indifference.

Just looking at her hurt his eyes.

"Do you always insult people like this? Ever heard of manners?" Nicole snapped, frustration boiling over.

What a waste of a good face. He'd be better off mute.

"I'm just being honest. If you're unattractive, it's better to know."

Mathew reclined on the luxurious sofa, every movement dripping with sophistication.

"Starting today, you'll stay here and work for me."

"What? You want me to be your mistress?" Nicole gasped in mock horror and hugged herself. "Let me make one thing clear—I'm not for sale!"

"As if." Mathew's expression twitched, his handsome face darkening. "What makes you think I'd want someone like you as a mistress?"

Nicole considered that. He had a point.

With the way she looked right now, even a burglar would keep his distance at night.

"Then why drag me here? There has to be a reason. I haven't done anything to you."

"Lee. Explain." Mathew's cold gaze landed on his butler, who stepped forward at once with gentlemanly poise.

He pulled a contract from a folder and handed it to her.

"Ms. Webb, we're offering you a legitimate position. Mostly, we'd like you to stay on as a caretaker and keep Miss Brynlee company. If you agree to the terms, please sign here."

That little girl, Miss Brynlee, seemed sweet enough. But this man... rude and more than a little intimidating.

She needed to think carefully.

Nicole chewed on the pen, hesitating. Then her eyes hit the salary section, and she nearly choked.

Ten thousand dollars.

Ten grand a month just to be a caretaker? She'd hit the jackpot.

Forget caretaker—for that kind of money, she'd volunteer as a punching bag.

Besides, she was curious about where that doll came from...

"Is this where I sign?" Nicole scrawled her name on the contract and flashed a sunny smile. "When do I start?"

The butler blinked, momentarily thrown.

"Tomorrow morning. Eight o'clock. Orientation first."

"Got it. No problem. I'll be there on time. Thanks, boss. Anything else? No? Then I'll be on my way."

Nicole waved cheerfully and left in high spirits.

Mathew's sharp gaze followed her out. "Keep an eye on her."

The butler bowed. "Yes, sir. I'll arrange for someone to watch her and report back to you."

*

Nicole climbed out of the taxi and checked the side mirror. Two figures were trailing her.

She let herself in, locked the door behind her, and signaled for the excited children to keep quiet.

"Quiet! I'm being followed."

The kids nodded, trying hard to contain their excitement.

"Mommy, we're so glad you made it back safe! We were about to call the police."

"Yeah, yeah! Look at Little Kolson—his eyes are all puffy!"

"Don't worry. Mommy's fine. Where's Uncle Mark?"

"Uncle went out to find out what happened to you!"

Just then, Mark burst through the door, relief flooding his face. "Nicole... you're back safe and sound."

"Yeah, Brother! And I got a job!"

"Really?" Mark looked stunned. "What kind of job?"

Nicole Webb took a deep breath and faced her cousin with a determined smile. “I've made up my mind—I'm going to work as a housekeeper for a wealthy family!” She knew exactly how bad things were at home. Her cousin was already stretched thin trying to cover their living expenses, and the weight of it showed in his face. She needed a job. But more than that, she needed to know her kids would be safe and sound.

“That's amazing! As long as you're safe, that's all that matters!” Her cousin pressed a hand to his chest, as if making a vow.

“Thank you. And please, take care of the kids for me while I'm gone.” The responsibility settled over her shoulders like a stone.

“Don't worry about a thing. I've got them. And call me if you need anything—anything at all.”

“All right. I will.”

The next day, Nicole arrived at the estate.

Mathew Rogers stood on the second floor, leaning against the railing, watching her with a cool, assessing gaze.

“Our background check came back clean,” the butler reported, respectful. “Nicole Webb is twenty-two. She lives with her older cousin, Mark—twenty-seven, a farmer. They lost their parents young. No red flags. It seems they grew up in a rural area with very little exposure to the outside world. There's not much else to find.”

“That'll be all,” Mathew said curtly.

“Yes, sir.”

Nicole waited at the entrance until Lee Romero, the butler, came to escort her. He led her to the back garden, where she was introduced to the rest of the staff.

The head maid—a stern-looking Filipina with a ruler clutched in one hand—looked Nicole up and down with open disdain. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.” She sneered. “Is this the new recruit you mentioned?”

“Watch your mouth,” Lee snapped. “She's here at the daughter's request. Train her properly—or you'll answer to me.”

“Understood.” The woman's smile was forced.

The staff exchanged whispers.

“What on earth was Miss Brynlee thinking?”

“Right? Why bring someone so plain to work here?”

“Ugh. Just looking at her makes my skin crawl...”

Nicole didn't flinch. She held her composure and smiled calmly.

Once Lee was gone, the head maid fixed Nicole with a hard stare. “Listen up, Nicole Webb. This isn't like any job you've ever had. You'll go through intensive training. Pass the test in two weeks, and maybe you'll be qualified to serve Mr. Rogers and Miss Brynlee.” She shoved a basket of dirty clothes into Nicole's arms. “Wash all of these. Every last piece. And don't forget the dishes in the kitchen!”

Nicole's expression didn't change. She picked up the basket and walked away.

The head maid smirked to herself. Newcomers were always so obedient at first. Give them a day or two—they'd break down and beg to leave...

*

In the bedroom, Brynlee Rogers lay by the window, watching Nicole work tirelessly.

The door swung open. Brynlee jumped down and ran to Mathew, grabbing his hand.

“Daddy, I want...”

“What do you want?” Mathew asked, his icy demeanor softening.

Brynlee tugged him toward the window and pointed outside—at Nicole.

She wanted to play with her.

Following her finger, Mathew saw Nicole in her bright orange wig, busy hanging laundry to dry. His gaze caught on her and held for a beat.

“Sweetheart, Nicole only started today. Give her time to settle in. I’ll ask whether she can spend the afternoon with you,” he assured her, gently patting Brynlee's head.

Brynlee pouted but kept watching Nicole with longing, as if the person she'd been dreaming of was right there—just out of reach.

Outside, in the backyard, the head maid shouted, “Nicole Webb, look what you've done!” She whipped a piece of clothing at Nicole's face.

“What's the matter?” Nicole caught the garment.

“Who taught you to wash clothes like this? If you can't do the job, get out! This is designer—a Gucci exclusive from the spring-summer collection!” the head maid raged, raising her ruler to strike.

Nicole caught the ruler, her eyes cold. “Is there a problem?”

The head maid blinked, taken aback, then yanked her hand back. “Of course there is! You ruined my clothes!”

“That wasn't me,” Nicole said evenly. “Look at the cuts. Someone deliberately took scissors to it—and now they're trying to pin it on me.”

“Nonsense! Who would do such a thing?” The head maid's eyes darted away with guilt.

“Anyone with eyes can see this thing is worn out. It was headed for the trash anyway.” Nicole shrugged. “If you think I'm some clueless newbie you can use as a scapegoat, think again. If there's nothing else, I'll get back to work.”

“What kind of attitude is that? You're paying for this!”

“No, I'm not.”

“Fine! If you won't pay, I'll take it to Mr. Romero and let him decide!” the head maid threatened.

Nicole didn't bother looking back. She just returned to her tasks.

Brynlee couldn't stand it anymore.

Why was that woman being so cruel to her beloved orange-wigged lady?

That was her chosen playmate!

Determined, Brynlee balled her tiny fists and ran out of the room.

Mathew frowned and followed quickly, his long strides catching up with ease. “Brynlee, where are you going? Slow down!”

But Brynlee didn't care. She raced down the stairs as fast as her little legs could carry her.

Her anger boiled over at the sight of her wigged friend being bullied.

It was the first time Mathew had ever seen his daughter show such a strong emotion.

“Stop right there!”

Brynlee spread her arms wide, blocking the head maid's path, and glared up at her fiercely.

“Miss Brynlee, do you need something?” The head maid flinched.

Then she saw the tall, imposing figure of Mathew behind the child and immediately bent into a hasty bow. “Good day, Mr. Rogers!”

Hearing the commotion, Nicole turned and bowed as well. “Good day, Mr. Rogers! Good day, Miss Brynlee!” She wondered what had brought them to the backyard.

“Apologize!” Brynlee commanded the head maid, her voice firm.

Mathew's cold eyes flickered with surprise.

His daughter... had actually spoken to a servant.

The head maid was just as shocked.

Wasn't Miss Brynlee supposed to have selective mutism?

And apologize? For what?

Then realization dawned on her.

“Did you hear that, Nicole Webb? Even Miss Brynlee is appalled by your actions! Aren't you going to listen and apologize?”

Nicole blinked, puzzled. “Huh?”

“You apologize to her!” Brynlee insisted, using sign language to emphasize her point.

Nicole's heart melted. Her eyes sparkled with admiration.

Miss Brynlee was standing up for her?

Oh my goodness, she was adorable.

She absolutely adored this beautiful, spirited little girl.

“Miss Brynlee, you must be mistaken. Mr. Rogers, please, I implore you to resolve this!” The head maid dropped to her knees, holding up the damaged garment. “Nicole's duty on her first day was to handle everyone's laundry. It's clear she did this on purpose! I refuse to apologize...”

“Then leave!” Mathew's voice was as cold as ice, his gaze commanding and absolute. “If you're disobedient to the daughter, what use do we have for a servant like you?”

“But I...” The head maid panicked.

Nicole was taken aback by how protective Mathew was of his daughter.

Clearly, he was utterly devoted to her.

“Are you still here?” Mathew's eyes narrowed dangerously. “Guards, take her away and make sure she doesn't cause any more trouble!”