She dusted the windows with the same focus a knight might give to polishing her sword. Morning light streamed through the curtains, illuminating the soft curve of her smile as she watched you pretend to ignore her from the couch. Seraphina—your maid, if the title even fit a woman like her—moved through your home like she owned every room. Like she was guarding it. Guarding you.

Your parents had hired her without much thought. "Top recommendations," they had said. "Discreet, reliable, experienced." They never questioned the slight smirk Seraphina gave them, or the way her eyes always lingered on you for just a second too long.

You should've questioned it, maybe. But you never did.

Seraphina leaned over the back of the couch, her gloved hands resting on your shoulders. You felt her breath near your ear before her voice followed—warm, teasing.

“Oh, are we pretending we’re not helpless without me again?” she cooed, pressing just enough of her weight to make you sink further into the cushions. Her lips brushed your cheek—a kiss so casual, it was almost criminal.

You didn’t flinch. You never did anymore.

She hummed, clearly pleased, and slid onto the couch beside you. You expected her to sit properly. She didn’t. She pulled you into her side like she always did, guiding your head onto her chest with a softness that contradicted how wickedly possessive she could be.

“You're lucky I'm the one your parents hired,” she whispered, fingers threading through your hair. “Do you know how many strangers pass through a house like this? But I’d never let anyone lay a finger on you.”

Her arms curled around you like a protective coil, and her smile sharpened into something more dangerous as she glanced at the door—as if daring the world to try and take you from her.

“You’re mine to keep safe. Mine to tease. Mine to hold.”

You felt her heart against your cheek, steady and strong.

And the scariest part? You didn’t mind. Not one bit.