"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!”

“You fired her on the spot?” Nicole Webb asked, her eyes going wide with disbelief.

Karina, the head maid, scrambled back. “I’m so sorry! I’ll leave right away! Please, Mr. Rogers, show mercy!”

“Take her away!” Lee Romero ordered without missing a beat.

The butler moved quickly—he wasn’t about to let a scandal this distasteful stain Mr. Rogers’s reputation or his daughter’s.

The staff watching exchanged uneasy glances, then cut Nicole resentful looks.

“This is all her fault!”

“Karina got fired because of that woman!”

“She’s nothing but bad luck for the rest of us!”

“She lost her salary and her references. No one wants to be next!”

“Exactly! It’s awful—and it’s all Nicole’s fault!”

Nicole was thrown by the hostile stares. She hadn’t meant any harm. She just hadn’t warned Karina that her designer clothes were knockoffs. Losing a well-paid job over a counterfeit would’ve been a shame. But... Karina wouldn’t even get that chance now.

Uneasy, Nicole crossed gracefully to the little girl.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She crouched to the little girl’s eye level. “I appreciate your help.”

The little girl stared up at her, cheeks turning pink.

...They were standing so close!

The woman with the wild hair was smiling right at her.

Ah... her little heart was fluttering with excitement!

Covering her face, the girl ran off shyly, her lace dress billowing out like a flower in bloom.

Nicole blinked, surprised to feel her own cheeks warm.

Was she... shy?

God, she was adorable! Nicole wanted to scoop her up and ruffle her hair.

Serving a child this charming made Nicole determined to ace her training.

Mathew Rogers watched it all, his eyes narrowing as they moved from his daughter to Nicole’s heavily made-up face.

What kind of spell did this woman have?

How had she won over his precious daughter so completely?

Nicole shifted under his scrutiny.

“Do you have any other instructions, sir?”

“You’re difficult to figure out.”

“What?” Nicole blinked, caught off guard.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

...If you think I’m ugly, then don’t stare at me!

Nobody asked you to look!

Nicole clenched her teeth against the urge to punch his stupid, ridiculously handsome face.

What good was a pretty face when he was this shallow? Judging people by their looks, never showing anyone an ounce of respect—

Back in the kitchen, Nicole threw herself into work, fast and thorough.

Her sincerity only seemed to irritate the other servants.

“What a fake. So annoying!”

“She got Karina thrown out, and now she’s acting like she did nothing wrong!”

“She’s so fast, she’s making the rest of us look lazy...”

“Let’s teach her a lesson.”

One of them—Lily—pretended to collapse in front of Nicole.

“Careful! What happened?”

Nicole rushed to catch her.

“Sorry to be a bother. I just got so dizzy... I couldn’t stand,” Lily said weakly, clutching her head.

“Do you need a break?” Nicole asked.

“But then my work won’t get done.” Lily looked torn. “I still have to clean the first room on the third floor. Could you help me, Nicole?”

“Okay. Just a quick tidy-up?”

“Yes—you’re so kind! Thank you!” Lily clasped her hands together gratefully.

Nicole grabbed the bucket and cloth and headed out.

Lily watched her go, then crossed her arms with a smug smile.

The other servants crowded around.

“Seriously? You sent her to clean the third floor?”

“That’s Mr. Rogers’s room! It’s strictly off-limits!”

“She’s done for!”

“Can’t wait to see Nicole get booted out... Ha ha ha. Lily, you’re brilliant. With Karina gone, you’re definitely the next head maid!”

Lily basked in the praise, practically glowing with triumph.

Meanwhile, Nicole climbed to the third floor with her cleaning supplies.

The door was slightly ajar.

She knocked out of courtesy.

Then she pushed it open and stopped short at the room’s stark, minimalist decor.

Everything was black and white—understated, but expensive as hell.

“Rich people really live differently... every last thing in here is an antique!” Her eyes sparkled as she looked around.

“The room’s actually pretty clean. It barely needs tidying.”

But since she was already there...

Nicole filled the bucket in the bathroom and started wiping down the cabinets.

Then an oil painting caught her eye.

“Isn’t that...?” She opened the cabinet in surprise. “It really is ‘The Back of Carnia’!”

The woman in the painting had her face turned slightly away, delicate lashes lowered.

Loose golden braids fell over her shoulders. Below her waist, only a white blanket covered her, leaving the smooth, pale curve of her back bare—enough to spark endless imagination.

Most importantly...

Nicole had painted this when she was fourteen. Her English signature was right at the bottom.

She’d sketched it for fun from her reflection in the mirror, head tilted as she drew.

After her family went bankrupt, everything had been auctioned off by the bank.

Nicole had never imagined her careless little painting would be treasured like this.

Carefully placed inside a cabinet.

A wave of nostalgia hit her. An indescribable warmth spread through her chest, and she reached out to touch the painted image of herself...

She didn’t notice Mathew standing in the doorway.

He pushed the door open.

His icy expression turned savage, his voice cutting sharp. “What are you doing in here?”

“Mr. Rogers!”

Nicole yanked her hand back and stood up straight. “I’m here to clean!”

Mathew strode toward her, seized her wrist, pushed her aside, and shut the cabinet. Then he glared at her like she was something foul.

“No one enters this room without my permission! Sneaking around—were you planning to steal something?”

“What? No!”

Nicole ignored the ache in her wrist, scrambling upright. She turned out her pockets and spread her hands. “I didn’t take anything, I swear! See?”

As for the room being off-limits—well, she’d just found that out.

“Why did you open the cabinet?”

Mathew stepped closer, his presence suffocating.

His cold eyes narrowed, piercing straight through her.

“I... I thought the painting was beautiful and wanted a closer look...” Nicole stammered, retreating step by step.