Vincent's mother paid me to take care of him for five years.

On the surface, I was his personal maid, but behind the scenes, I was his secret girlfriend, granting his every wish.

Just when I thought he was going to marry me, I accidentally overheard his conversation with his friends.

"It's been five years. The Carter Family has given up looking for their daughter and your childhood lover has firmly taken the position of their heiress! Shouldn't you marry her as compensation?"

"Who would marry a bedwarming tool? Once I'm tired of her, I'll naturally get rid of her!"

"After five years, you must be tired of her! How about I help you get rid of her..."

"Shut up! How dare you even think about touching what's mine?"

It turned out that his so-called love for me was stealing my biological parents for his true lover and reducing me to a bed warmer who could never see the light of day.

I returned home in despair and laid out the agreement to confront Vincent’s mother, Mrs. Cross. "The agreement has long since expired and it's time for me to leave."

——

I insisted on leaving and Mrs. Cross, with reddened eyes, arranged everything for me. "Diana, I thought you'd marry Vincent sooner or later. Are you really determined to go?"

Vincent pushed the door open. Seeing the scene before him, he frowned and asked me, "You're leaving? Where are you going?"

Mrs. Cross opened her mouth, seemingly about to reveal everything, but I held her hand tightly and replied calmly, "I want to go on a trip to clear my mind. Mrs. Cross is just worried about my safety."

Vincent immediately expressed his displeasure. "After all these years, you're still holding onto the idea of finding your parents? If they truly cared about finding you, your family would have been reunited long ago..."

Perhaps it was my unwavering gaze that made Vincent feel a moment of guilt. He raised his hand to touch his nose and after sending Mrs. Cross away, he pulled me into the bedroom.

As soon as we entered, he forcefully pinned me against the door and kissed me.

"Diana, is it because I haven't treated you well, or because my mom hasn't treated you well that why you're so desperate to find your biological parents?"

He was as domineering as ever, ignoring my resistance and bit my lip harshly as punishment.

The taste of blood spread in my mouth and his scent, which wasn't mine, lingered around me.

Today, he was unusually talkative. "Diana, as long as I'm here, you'll have a family. Why waste your energy on those who don't love you? Once this busy period is over, I'll take you on a world tour during my vacation."

I pushed him away with all my strength, wiped the blood from the corner of my lips and smiled brightly.

"Alright, I'll do as you say."

He didn't love me and indeed, I had no reason to waste energy on him.

My obedient compliance made Vincent's eyes darken. His hand eagerly reached under my clothes. "Diana, what kind of spell have you cast on me? Why can't I stop wanting you?"

I took a step back, avoiding him from getting any closer. It wasn't that I had cast a spell on him.

The familiar scent on him clearly told me that he couldn't bear to deal with Evelyn, so he came home to take his frustrations out on me instead.

Vincent saw me retreat and showed a momentary hint of displeasure, but soon his interest was rekindled.

"Are you playing hard to get? I like it..."

I coldly watched as he kissed me again and reminded him. "This is the master bedroom."

Sure enough, the lust on Vincent's face slowly faded.

For five years, although I was his girlfriend by name, I never had the right to sleep in his master bedroom.

To be precise, I had never even touched his bed.

In the past, he was afraid Mrs. Cross would find out about our relationship and pressure us into an early marriage and children.

So, I naively helped him keep it a secret.

As Vincent eagerly lifted me out of the master bedroom, Mrs. Cross suddenly came downstairs.

"Vincent, you two..."

Facing Mrs. Cross's scrutinizing and questioning gaze, Vincent, without a hint of embarrassment, blamed her.

"Mom, why don't you make a sound when you walk? Diana twisted her ankle and you suddenly came out without even worrying about scaring her..."

He held me tightly, subtly signaling me to cooperate.

Taking this opportunity, I struggled and jumped down. To my surprise, I really twisted my ankle.

Vincent looked at the cold sweat beading on my forehead and subtly gave me a thumbs-up.

Mrs. Cross, with a thoughtful look, watched her son busying himself for me, as if she wanted to say something but held back.

Finally, under my pleading gaze, she turned and went upstairs.

Vincent then turned and carried me into the bedroom that he had spent a lot of money decorating for me.

The most costly part of the room was the soundproofing.

How laughable. I had once been moved, thinking he did this so I could sleep peacefully without disturbing sounds.

In reality, he only did this to come into the room to indulge his own desires, while ensuring that Mrs. Cross, who lived on the third floor, wouldn’t discover anything. A sourness spread in my heart.

But when he locked the door and once again pressed himself on me, disgust quickly overwhelmed all the bitterness.

His leg pressed against my ankle, the sharp pain causing me to cry out in agony.

Vincent seemed a bit displeased. "Enough, stop pretending. I was just about to praise you for your great acting when you twisted your ankle... Wear the maid outfit I had custom-made for you today..."

Vincent, consumed by his own desires, pretended to be busy in front of his mother for a long time, not noticing that my ankle had already become swollen and bruised.

Looking into his peach blossom eyes, which seemed to express affection even toward a dog, I once again fully realized that he had never truly cared for me.

With his intense possessiveness, he only saw me as a toy to amuse himself with.

Feeling his body, which was on the brink of losing control, I didn’t go along with him for the first time. "I'm tired, let's do it another day."

My repeated interruptions of his advances made Vincent exude an icy aura.

He narrowed his eyes, as if about to question me, when the phone rang urgently.

Hearing the crying on the other end of the phone, Vincent hurriedly opened the door and ran downstairs.

By the time he brought a drenched Evelyn upstairs, I was already lying in bed.

However, he used a spare key to open the door and ordered me with an indifferent tone, "Go make some ginger soup for Evelyn to warm her up."

I sat up and watched them, motionless.

Evelyn immediately pouted, her face full of grievance as she said, "Vincent, although she's a maid, don’t you think asking her to make me soup in the middle of the night might be too much trouble? I’ll be fine if I just rest for a bit."

After speaking, she sneezed.

Vincent pulled her close and urged me with a frown. “Didn't you see Evelyn getting wet in the rain? Don't forget that obeying my orders is your duty.”

He was right; I should obey his orders. But the employment contract had already expired two years ago.

Back then, Evelyn left without saying a word and went abroad, leaving Vincent devastated. He drowned himself in alcohol daily and developed severe bipolar disorder.

One day, while he was drinking at a bar, he saw me being harassed by some men while I was working part-time.

I resisted and those men tried to drag me into a private room by force. Vincent, holding a wine bottle, charged at them, resulting in a bloody brawl.

To express my gratitude for saving me, I insisted on taking care of him at the hospital.

When Mrs. Cross saw that he didn’t reject me and that his bipolar episodes hadn’t recurred for several days because of my presence, she consulted a doctor. Afterward, she decisively brought me an employment contract.

"I will give you 700 thousand dollars for three years to stay by Vincent's side as his personal caretaker."

Coincidentally, my adoptive father had recently passed away from a serious illness, leaving behind a pile of debts to be repaid.

Desperate for money, I didn’t hesitate to sign the agreement.

In order to take good care of Vincent, I followed the terms of the agreement and taught myself nutrition management and health psychology, all to help him recover from the pain of heartbreak as quickly as possible.

One time, after another drunken episode, he mistook me for Evelyn and lost control in a night of wild passion.

When he sobered up, Vincent looked at the glaring red stain on the bed and held me in his arms, apologizing, "Diana, I will take responsibility for this. When the time is right, we’ll make our relationship public."

From that day on, he clung to me every night, showering me with bags and jewelry, sparing no expense to fill my room with gifts.

Especially in bed, his sweet words never repeated themselves.

I gradually lost myself in this false affection, waiting for five long years. Yet, I never saw the "right time" he spoke of. Instead, I uncovered the truth behind his being with me.

The reason Evelyn initially stormed off abroad was to force my biological parents to abandon their search for me.

Vincent saved me and didn’t reject me because his investigation revealed that I was the true daughter of the Carter Family.

He thought that keeping me under his watch, confining me within the Cross Family’s sphere, would help Evelyn solidify her position as the true heiress.

But he also resented my existence, hated me for driving away the woman he loved.

That night, he didn’t mistake me for someone else. He did it because he found out that Evelyn had gotten a new boyfriend while abroad. So, he vented his anger and frustration on me.

How laughable that I mistook his five years of rage and resentment for love.

I collected my thoughts and calmly rejected him without a trace of emotion, "There’s cold medicine in the first-aid kit. Taking the medicine directly works better."

It was the first time I had ever disobeyed Vincent’s orders and he was already showing signs of anger.

"Diana, don’t forget your place!"

I couldn’t help but laugh. "And what exactly is my place?"

At this point, we no longer had an employer-employee relationship or a romantic relationship. At best, we could only be considered former bed partners.

"Diana! Don’t cross the line!" he snapped.

He probably assumed that his mother would renew the employment contract with me and that I loved him so humbly, like dust, which gave him the arrogance to remind me of my "place."

Evelyn tugged at his sleeve with a pitiful expression, but her eyes were full of provocation as she looked at me. "Vincent, your maid is so fierce. She seems to dislike me so much. You shouldn’t trouble her anymore. It’s my fault for being willful and arguing with Mom and Dad, sneaking out in the middle of the night. If they knew I got caught in the rain, they’d be so heartbroken…"

If I didn’t already know that Evelyn was just a parasitic bird stealing the magpie’s nest, I might not have caught the deeper meaning behind her words.

She kept calling me "maid," over and over, relentlessly reminding me of my status and Vincent didn’t bother to correct her.

I met her gaze with a smile, wondering how she would react if she lost her cherished position as the "true heiress" she thought she had secured.

When I didn’t respond with the anger or inferiority she had expected, Evelyn hugged herself tightly, her body trembling uncontrollably.

"Vincent, I’m so cold," she said.

Without hesitation, Vincent carried her to his master bedroom and ran hot water for her bath. He even went to the kitchen to prepare ginger tea for her, following an online recipe.

Later that night, when I went out to get water because I was thirsty, I heard intimate, breathless sounds coming from Vincent’s room and my heart clenched in pain.

His careful and gentle coaxing of her was so different from the unrestrained way he treated me. With me, he had never shown a shred of tenderness.