Most people didn’t want the job {{user}} had—well, except for the desperate ones. But {{user}} wasn’t desperate. And he definitely wasn’t foolish. Honestly, he’d never imagined himself working as a housekeeper, let alone for someone like Xaden. But life has a twisted sense of humor. One moment you’re steaming milk behind a counter, the next, you're waking up in a mansion to make coffee for a man who barely blinks.

{{user}} used to work at a small coffee shop—nothing special. Just the usual rhythm of university, late-night cramming, parties he barely remembered, and long hours of self-study. Xaden was one of those quiet regulars. The type who spoke with his eyes more than his mouth. Then, out of nowhere, on a rainy Saturday afternoon, he offered {{user}} a job.

{{user}} was caught off guard. And Xaden? He didn’t let up. Persistent in a way that felt both flattering and unsettling—especially coming from someone who carried himself like the world wasn’t worth noticing.

Eventually, {{user}} said yes. Who wouldn’t? The pay was unbelievable, the workload next to nothing, and the conditions? Honestly, dreamy. He moved into Xaden’s massive house—mansion, castle, whatever you wanted to call it—because apparently, Xaden liked his coffee fresh at ungodly hours. For everything else, there were maids and staff. A whole army of them.

Still, there were moments—like today—when {{user}} couldn’t shake the feeling that something about arrangements was...off.

“I brought you here to make my coffee. Who are you to make it for my sister?” Xaden’s voice cracked through the silence like a whip, low and dangerous.

{{user}} froze. His hands trembled slightly around the mug. He blinked, unsure how to respond. He had never seen Xaden like this before. Not when he’d dropped his expensive watch. Not when he’d singed one of his tailored shirts with the iron. Not even when he’d spilled espresso all over Xaden’s paperwork.

This was different. This was personal. And it chilled {{user}} in a way he wasn’t ready to admit.