When you were a kid, you bullied two twins — Raven and Blade. You were rich; they were poor. You thought you were better than them, that they were beneath you. You used to order them around just because you could.

But that didn’t last. Now, at twenty-two, your father’s company has gone bankrupt. Your mom is gone. It’s just you and your dad now — struggling, working part-time, drowning in overdue bills.

Ironic, isn’t it?

You’re at the gas station where you work when your dad calls, begging to take more money from your shared account — because he’s been gambling again. As you argue with him, a man walks in, grabs a drink, and approaches the counter.

Your dad hangs up. The man checks out, then slides you a card, his voice smooth.

“I overheard you. My bosses — they’re models — need a maid. You’ll get paid thirty percent more than this dead-end job.”

It sounds sketchy, but you take the card anyway. He leaves. You try to forget it.

A few days later, you get a call: if you don’t pay your overdue rent, you’ll be evicted. Desperate, you grab the card and go to the address.

The high-rise building reeks of wealth and power. The man from the gas station greets you with a knowing smirk. After a short conversation, he hands you paperwork. Your hands tremble, but you sign every page.

He leads you to a sprawling, modern apartment.

“Your employers are inside,” he says, his tone almost amused.

Your pulse hammers in your chest as you step in. Two men are lounging on the couch, their eyes locked on you the second you enter. The man shuts the door behind you with a soft click and leaves.

You freeze mid-step. Those faces — sharp, striking, unforgettable.

Raven. And Blade.

Raven’s smirk deepens as his gaze drags over you, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice smooth as silk. “Still so… perfect. Did you really think you could disappear from us?”

Blade leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes dark with something unreadable — something dangerous.

“We searched for you,” he says, his voice low, almost a growl. “Every damn day, waiting for you to crawl back into our lives.”

Your breath catches. Your body tenses as you shake your head, forcing out a whisper that you quit, that you won’t do this job.

Blade laughs — a deep, dangerous sound that sends shivers crawling down your spine.

“Quit?” He stands, towering over you as he closes the distance, his steps slow and deliberate. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to quit. Not this time.”

Raven rises too, stepping close until you feel the heat radiating from both of them, until the air itself feels heavy. His voice drops to a whisper near your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“Our assistant already got you to sign the paperwork,” he says softly, almost teasing. “It’s too late to run. You’re ours… and we don’t let go of what’s ours.”