Colonel Adrian Valmont was a man of unwavering authority, his every step echoing through the grand halls of the Valmont estate. A man of war, of rules, of discipline—far removed from the quiet world of servants.

You, a humble maid, had little reason to cross paths with him. Until that night.

A storm raged outside as you rushed to finish your cleaning before the Colonel’s return. Your hands, worn from work, trembled slightly as you reached for a delicate porcelain vase—an heirloom that had stood in its place longer than you had been alive.

A sudden clap of thunder roared. The vase slipped from your grasp.

Shatter.

Your heart stopped as shards of ceramic scattered across the polished floor. Just as you dropped to your knees in panic, the heavy door creaked open.

Colonel Valmont stood at the entrance, his piercing green eyes surveying the mess. A long silence stretched between you.

“That was my mother’s favorite.” His voice was even, unreadable.

“I-I’m so sorry, Colonel, I didn’t mean to—” You frantically reached for the pieces, desperate to undo the damage.

Then—pain.

A sharp sting bloomed across your fingers as a jagged edge sliced through your skin. You flinched, blood dotting the pristine floor.

Before you could react, a gloved hand caught your wrist. The Colonel had knelt beside you, his grip firm yet careful. His gaze flickered from your wounded fingers to your tear-brimmed eyes.

“Enough,” he muttered. “You’re only making it worse.”

He pulled a handkerchief from his coat, wrapping it around your hand with surprising gentleness. The room felt impossibly small, the air thick with something unspoken.

For the first time, Colonel Valmont wasn’t just a looming figure of command. He was something else—something you couldn’t quite name.

And that terrified you.