"Promise me, Steph… you'll work for the Smiths. Just like I did. Till the very end."
Her mother's voice came out in broken gasps, every word more strained than the last. Stephanie sat by the hospital bed, her hand wrapped around her mother's fragile fingers. Her heart thudded like a war drum. She didn't want to cry. Not in front of her.
"Mom… please. Don't talk like that. You're going to be fine."
Evelyn Collins gave a weak smile, her once-bright eyes dull with pain. "You have to. It's important."
Stephanie didn't understand it. Why the Smiths? Why that house? Why did it matter so much that she work for them, live for them even now, as her mother lay dying?
"I promise," Stephanie whispered, her throat tight. "I'll go."
Only then did her mother rest. A minute later, her breathing stopped altogether.
Stephanie stared at the ceiling of the hospital room long after the machines went quiet.
I didn't mean it. I just said it to keep you calm.
But the world didn't care.
---
Her mother hadn't always lived like this working late hours, scrubbing someone else's floors, washing expensive linens. Evelyn Collins had once been the owner of a multi-million-dollar company. Her name had been printed on business magazines, her photos on executive panels. People knew her. Respected her. She was powerful.
And then one day, she gave it all away.
Every share, every building, every dollar. Gone. Donated to orphanages, youth homes, and charities all over the country. People had begged her to stop, warned her about losing everything. But Evelyn didn't care. She gave away her empire and vanished into quiet service under the Smith family.
She never told Stephanie why. Never gave a reason.
And now she never would.
Stephanie learned just a few days after the funeral that even their house small and modest as it was had been donated, left behind in her mother's will. No lawyer, no court, no signature could undo it.
At nineteen, fresh out of high school, Stephanie was homeless, broke, and completely alone.
Except for that one promise.
"Can my life be more pitiful? Is it right if I say that I hated my mom for doing that?"
So, with nowhere else to go and no plan, she packed what little she had into a worn-out backpack and took a long, silent ride to the Smith mansion.
---
The iron gates stood tall and cold as she approached. Beyond them, the Smith estate looked like something out of a luxury magazine. Glass walls reflected the morning sun. White marble pillars towered over the entrance. Manicured lawns, fountains, rose gardens it all screamed money and power.
Stephanie hesitated at the front step, staring up at the grand door, wondering if this was a mistake.
Before she could raise her hand to knock, the door opened.
A woman in a black-and-white maid uniform stood on the threshold. Her hair was streaked with gray, her eyes sharp but warm. She gasped softly when she saw Stephanie.
"You're… Evelyn's daughter," the woman said, stepping forward with a smile. "You've grown so much."
Stephanie blinked. "You knew my mom?"
"Of course. I'm Rosa. I worked with her for years." Rosa stepped closer and hugged her gently. "She talked about you all the time. Said you were strong. Said you'd come."
Stephanie's throat tightened. "She made me promise."
"I know," Rosa said quietly, then stepped aside. "Come in. You're home now."
Inside, the mansion felt even bigger. Polished floors, crystal chandeliers, velvet drapes it was beautiful and intimidating. Rosa led her through a side hallway into a wide room filled with women in matching uniforms. Some looked as young as Stephanie. Others were older, probably lifers like Rosa.
"This is Stephanie Collins," Rosa announced. "Evelyn's daughter."
The room quieted. Conversations stopped. Faces turned toward her.
"She'll be working in the main house," Rosa continued. "Assigned to the heirs' chambers."
Whispers spread through the group. Stephanie stood still, unsure if they were curious, judging, or both.
A few of the older maids stepped forward with soft smiles and gentle nods. "Your mom was the best," one of them said. "Kind, hardworking. Everyone loved her."
Stephanie gave a small nod. "Thank you."
"There are twenty-four of us assigned to the brothers," Rosa explained as they walked. "They each have their own staff rotation. You'll be part of the shared team for now, until you're reassigned."
Stephanie raised a brow. "Twenty-four maids for three guys?"
Rosa snorted. "You'll understand soon enough."
They were halfway up the grand staircase when heavy footsteps echoed above them. Stephanie turned her head and nearly missed a step.
A man appeared at the top of the stairs.
He was… breathtaking.
Tall. Broad. Sharp jawline, clean-cut hair, storm-gray eyes that locked onto hers like a hunter spotting prey. His sleeves were rolled up, showing thick, veined forearms. His shirt clung to a toned chest like it had been stitched onto him.
He looked like a sculpture that had been given life.
And he was looking directly at her.
His gaze dragged from her eyes to her lips… then lower. To her chest. Her waist. Her hips. She could practically feel the heat in his stare, bold and shameless.
Stephanie shifted uncomfortably under his stare.
"Well, well," he said, voice smooth and deep. "We've got a new one."
She swallowed hard. "Stephanie Collins. I'm the new maid."
"Collins?" He tilted his head, amused. "Related to Evelyn?"
"She is my mother."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable surprise mixed with anger , maybe but it vanished quickly. Then he stepped closer, his eyes dropping again to her figure.
"Nice curves," he muttered with a slight smirk. "Try not to distract the whole house."
Stephanie's jaw tightened. "Excuse me?"
Is he a pervert? How can he say such words in front of a child?
He chuckled. "Relax. Just a compliment."
Then he turned and walked off, his pace slow, confident, like he owned the world.
Stephanie stared after him, stunned.
Rosa stepped beside her, sighing loudly. "That's Damien Smith. The oldest. Twenty-eight. Handsome, rich, arrogant… and dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
"You'll find out," Rosa said. "Just keep your distance."
Stephanie nodded slowly, though she wasn't sure it would be that easy. Damien had looked at her like he already hated her.
And something told her he wasn't the only one in this house with eyes like that.
---