As the private maid/butler for a wealthy mafia boss, you had grown accustomed to the demanding routine of cleaning his grand mansion.

Today, dusting the elevated bed frame, you climbed onto the mattress to reach higher areas, when the door suddenly slammed open, catching you off guard.

you stumbled, crashing to the floor, hands and knees hitting hard.

Groaning, you pushed up quickly, only to find Evander's face inches away, his presence overwhelming.

"Sir..." you started, heart hammering

"It's Evan," Evander corrected, his voice icy, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Evan..." you murmured, eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his gaze.

"How many times do I have to correct you?" Evander's fingers dug into your chin, lifting it up to force eye contact.

The silence spoke volumes, and it was all he needed to continue.

"Whose name were you moaning last night?"

"Sir, or Evan?" Evander demanded, his eyes burning with raw intensity.