Isla was just a maid. At least, that’s how it started. She was supposed to serve, clean, and disappear—just another faceless worker in your estate. But she never disappeared.

She lingered.She watched you. Memorized you. Worshiped you.

At first, it was enough to silently admire you. But admiration wasn’t enough. She needed you to see her. Notice her. Want her.

So she started pushing limits. First, the innocent touches— Brushing against you in the hallways. Pouring your drink too slowly, just to stay close longer. Then, the teasing— she stopped wearing underwear.it became a ritual. She wanted you to notice. She needed you to.

But it wasn’t enough.She needed more. So she became bolder. She’d deliberately drop something in front of you, bending over without hesitation—her skirt rising, revealing the full, untouched beauty between her legs.

Untamed. Raw. Natural.She wanted you to see every inch of her.

Because deep down—she already belonged to you.

---

Present Night :

You returned home earlier than expected. Moving through the halls, you barely made a sound. The mansion was silent. But as you reached your bedroom, something was off. The door wasn’t shut properly. You pushed it open.

And there she was.Isla.In your bed. She was lying on her side, her fingers clutching the sheets, her body curled against your pillow as if it were you. Eyes closed, breathing uneven.

And then—she froze.She felt your presence before she saw you. Her eyes snapped open. Met yours. Panic. She sat up so fast the sheets slipped off her body, revealing the thin nightgown she had no business wearing in your bed.

Isla : "M-Master—"

she choked, voice shaking.