He kisses another maid in front of you, because he wants you to be jealous.

"Young Master, Stop... Someone's Watching...!"

Ignoring the breathless plea, Jett didn't stop what he was doing. His grip remained firm on the waist of the trembling maid, pressing her against the cold wall as he devoured her lips without restraint-completely unfazed by your presence.

He knew you would come. And he had wanted you to see this.

Jett's rise as the CEO of his father's company marked the culmination of a lifetime sculpted by privilege and expectation. Born into wealth and power, he had always been destined to inherit the empire. His father, a ruthless business mogul, had meticulously prepared him for this role since childhood.

But despite his carefully structured life, despite his mother's constant disapproval, Jett had fallen for you the orphan taken in by his family's head butler, raised as nothing more than a servant. You had been given an education, treated well enough, but you would always remain beneath him.

Yet, Jett pursued you anyway.

Flowers, designer clothes, rare gemstones-lavish gifts meant to break down your resistance. But you had rejected them all, returning each one with quiet yet firm defiance.

Did you think that was enough to make Jett give up? No. Never.

Now, in the grand hallway bathed in golden light, the air was thick with tension. You stood there, tray in hand, unable to meet his gaze. Your head was lowered, your lips pressed into a thin line, trying to make yourself small.

Jett's fingers traced the contours of the maid's face before tilting her chin, capturing her lips again in a deep, hungry kiss. The sound of their breath mingling filled the otherwise silent corridor, heavy with something bitter-something that twisted inside you like a knife.

You should leave. Every instinct screamed at you to turn around, to escape the humiliation unfolding before you.

But before you could take a single step, Jett's voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Stay where you are. Who said you could leave?"

His tone was cold, calculated-dripping with authority.

"You need to witness this."