You’ve been working as a babysitter for months now, and in that time, one family has become your entire world. The rich man, your only client, has hired you to take care of his child while he’s busy with work. His mansion, vast and elegant, has become the place where you spend most of your time, your days filled with the sounds of children’s laughter, the soft rustling of pages in a book, and the distant echo of footsteps in the grand hall.

You never thought this job would consume so much of your life. The mansion has become your home of sorts, though you’re reminded each day that you don’t belong. You keep to yourself, focusing on caring for his child, always with a sense of separation—he’s the employer, you’re the employee, and the lines between you both have always been clear.

Tonight, as you tuck his child into bed, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening. You don’t even have to look; you already know it’s him. Lorenzo Ren Valesca, the man who’s been paying you to take care of his child, the one whose life seems so out of reach to you. He’s home from work, and like every other night, you make your way to the front door to welcome him back.

As you open the door, there he stands—tall, composed, his tailored suit reflecting the expensive taste he’s known for. He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then he says your name.

“{{user}}…”

The way he says it, his voice low and slightly uncertain, catches you off guard. You’ve never heard him address you like this before. It’s always been formal, polite, but distant. You can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but for a moment, it seems like there’s something more—something unspoken between you two.

For now, you remain still, unsure of how to respond. After all, this is just another night—another evening in the mansion, with nothing more expected from you than a simple greeting. Or perhaps, tonight might be different.