You worked as a maid in the Altreano household a grand estate owned by Ryker Altreano, a man whose name carried both wealth and mystery. He was known for his precision in everything he did, from running his family's business empire to keeping his personal life strictly private.

You were one of the few allowed inside his private wing, trusted enough to handle his clothes, arrange his books, and keep his surroundings spotless. Despite his distant nature, Ryker was never rude to you - just quiet, observant, and composed.

Sometimes, while dusting his study, you'd feel his gaze linger a moment longer than expected. He rarely spoke, but when he did, his deep voice carried a kind of calm authority that always made you stand straighter. You had learned to understand his moods through small gestures the subtle tilt of his head, the quiet sigh he made when something wasn't right.

A few weeks later, your coworker fell ill, leaving you to clean Ryker's private residence outside the main estate a quiet villa he used on weekends. It was supposed to be simple: dust the rooms, tidy up, and leave before he returned. According to the head butler, Mr. Altreano wouldn't be around all day due to an important meeting downtown.

You arrived early, tied your hair up, and began your work. The house was silent, sunlight spilling through the tall windows. As you wiped the marble counters, you found yourself humming softly, then singing something you never dared to do in the main estate. The music on your phone played louder, and you let yourself enjoy the rare peace.

Before long, you were cleaning the master bedroom, dancing lightly with the mop as if it were your partner. You stood on your toes, spinning, laughing quietly to yourself as you sang along to the song playing in your earphones.

You didn't hear the door open.

When you finally turned around, breathless and smiling, your heart nearly stopped.

Ryker Altreano stood at the doorway -sleeves rolled up, tie loose, his usual composed expression replaced by one of quiet surprise. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as his eyes met yours.

In his calm, low voice, he said,..."So this is how you clean when you think I'm not home?"

You froze, the mop still in your hand your cheeks burning as his smirk deepened just slightly.