"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.

But with Evelyn, he treated her as if she were a precious treasure.

Every time I begged him to stop, he would only become more relentless, claiming he was madly in love with me.

Especially when Mrs. Cross wasn’t home, his behavior was completely out of control. Once even landing me in the hospital.

The doctor scolded him, saying that if he truly loved me, he should cherish me instead of indulging in such excess.

Blushing, he apologized to me and when the doctor wasn’t looking, he leaned in to gently whisper in my ear. "Diana, what should I do? I just can’t control myself around you. I’m afraid to even imagine how much I love you..."

At his words of love, I couldn’t bring myself to blame him anymore. After all, if he didn’t love me, how could he be so infatuated with me?

But I had never considered that a man’s desire and love could be completely separate.

One time, his good friend teased him about where he found the energy to be with me so often. He pinched my blushing face and said it was because of love.

But now, I know it was really because of hatred.

That night, I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. I woke up early and made breakfast for myself and Mrs. Cross.

Halfway through my meal, Vincent and Evelyn came out of their room.

Seeing that there was no extra breakfast on the table, he immediately asked, "Where’s breakfast for me and Evelyn?"

Noticing the red marks on Evelyn’s neck, Mrs. Cross immediately coldened her expression and said, "Vincent, who gave you permission to bring this woman home?"

Mrs. Cross had never liked Evelyn from the moment Vincent first brought her home. At first, I thought she disliked Evelyn because she was just the adopted daughter of the Carter Family, and perhaps, she found the match inappropriate.

But she would rather have Vincent marry me, someone with nothing to offer, than see her son involved with Evelyn.

Usually, to create opportunities for me and Vincent to be alone, she often went on trips with her friends, leaving us to ourselves.

Behind the scenes, she even came up with strategies for me on how to win over Vincent. Every time this happened, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

I couldn’t tell her that, in fact, less than a month after I moved into the Cross Family, I had already ended up in bed with Vincent. I was afraid that if she knew the truth, she would think of me as a woman with impure motives and would come to despise me.

Mrs. Cross refused to eat breakfast, threw her spoon down and stood up, trying to pull me out of the house.

Vincent immediately grabbed me by the arm. "Mom, I need to talk to Diana."

He suddenly tightened his grip on my hand, causing me to flinch in pain and furrow my brow. Was he afraid that I might tell his mother the truth?

Wanting to see me and Vincent get along, Mrs. Cross decided to wait for me in the car.

Vincent comforted Evelyn for a moment before pulling me aside. "Diana, I won’t hold last night against you, but you should know which things to say and which things to keep to yourself. Evelyn is different from you. She’s been pampered and has never suffered a day in her life. On the other hand, you have endured hardship from a young age, so be more understanding."

Was I supposed to suffer forever because Evelyn took away my parents and my life?

I curled my lips into a faint smile. "Hmm."

Seeing that I was no longer bristling with thorns, Vincent wrapped his arm around my waist, attempting to kiss me, but I dodged him.

"Have some decency! Don’t let your Evelyn misunderstand."

Vincent withdrew his hand as though electrocuted, his gaze dark and unreadable. "Diana, something’s been off with you since yesterday. Didn’t you used to love it when I touched you?"

I stepped back, keeping a calm demeanor. "I find it filthy."

Not only was his heart filthy, but his body was too.

Feeling the sting of my disdain, Vincent flung his sleeves and turned away, heading to the living room where he openly flirted with Evelyn as if no one else existed.

I walked out the door indifferently, ignoring the scorching gaze burning into my back.