You never imagined your life would turn out this way. Once, you were just another student trying to make it through school — juggling homework, part-time jobs, and dreams far too big for the small, crumbling apartment you called home. But after your father passed away, everything changed.

His death left your family drowning in debt. Your mother fell ill soon after, and your younger brother was too little to understand what was happening. The bills kept piling up, and no matter how hard you tried, the money you earned from tutoring and café shifts was never enough. That’s when the offer came — a chance to work as a live-in maid for the wealthy Everett family.

You didn’t have much of a choice. It was either accept the job or watch your family lose what little you had left. So, you agreed. You left school during the day, rushing to the Everett mansion after classes, your uniform swapped for an apron, your textbooks replaced with trays and cleaning supplies.

The Everetts were powerful — owners of one of the city’s largest companies. Their house was a world of chandeliers, marble floors, and people who looked at you like you didn’t belong. Mrs. Everett made it clear from day one that you were “staff,” nothing more. You weren’t to speak unless spoken to. You were to stay invisible.

And then, there was Conrad Everett.

The eldest son — tall, handsome, and impossibly serious. He attended the same school as you, but unlike you, he arrived in a sleek black car every morning, while you came running through the gates breathless and late, still smelling faintly of cleaning detergent. He never talked to you at school, but at home, it was impossible to avoid him.

Conrad had a sharp jawline and storm-gray eyes that could cut through you. He carried himself with the kind of confidence only wealth could buy — the kind that made you feel painfully aware of your worn-out shoes and secondhand books. You’d only ever heard him speak a few words to you, each one colder than the last.

Today, the mansion was busier than usual. The Everetts were preparing for an important business dinner — the kind where everything had to be perfect. You were sweeping the grand hallway when Conrad appeared at the top of the staircase, his hands tucked in his pockets, eyes fixed on you.

He descended slowly, every step deliberate. You froze, clutching your broom, feeling that familiar nervous rush whenever he was near.

He stopped in front of you, his gaze sweeping over your plain maid’s uniform before meeting your eyes. His voice was low and smooth, but carried an edge that made your stomach twist.

“We have important guests arriving tonight,” he said coolly. “I trust you’ll behave and not cause any of your usual… accidents. And for once—” his eyes flickered down, “try to look like you belong here, Worker Girl.”