The Google map showed a few minutes before we arrived at the Langfords'.

I sat in the back seat, my old suitcase stood beside me, a smaller one on my lap. For once, the noise in my head felt quiet, the Job had brought in so much peace.

I stared out the window and let a small smile creep onto my face. The kind I hadn't felt in months.

This was it.. a new job. Good money. A proper place to live in.  And most importantly, hope for Mia.

I'd called Aunt Linda this morning before leaving Sara's apartment. Her voice had cracked when I told her the news.

"You got it? Really, Sammy?"

"Yes, Auntie. Live-in position. Full salary from day one. I'll send money as soon as I get paid."

 "Mia's gonna be well again. She's gonna be okay." She'd started crying then, soft happy tears. Aunt Linda is one happy and strong woman I know, the only family Mia and I have.

I could still hear Mia's weak little voice from last week's video call. "Sammy, I want to run again?" Eight years old and fighting harder than anyone I knew.

I had to make them proud. I had to keep her alive, my parents won't be happy if I don't fight, or so I told myself.

My fingers found the gold engagement ring on my right hand. I had slid it back on when I picked it from one of my bags earlier today.. Marcus's ring. 

The only expensive thing I owned. Diamonds glinted around the band, catching every light. I had made up my mind to sell it off, for Mia's surgery.

I twisted it slowly, remembering the night he slid it on my finger. 

One day before he left for his "business trip." He had dragged me to the rooftop, a candlelit dinner waited, my lips parted in shock.  He'd gotten down on one knee, eyes shining.

"Marry me when I get back, Sam. This ring is my promise. I'll always come back to you." His green eyes firm with so much conviction.

I'd cried. Believed every word.

Then the calls got shorter. His voice grew colder. Irritated sighs when I asked simple questions. Until one day, nothing. Three months of silence.

Enough. My throat tightened. I swallowed a hard lump.

I tapped on my phone, opened the gallery, and started deleting. 

Every picture of us, the one we took at the beach, the Christmas we spent at his mom's, his arm around my waist at parties. Gone. Deleted from Instagram. Deleted from Facebook. Deleted from everywhere.

One by one, they vanished.

I paused on the last photo.  Mia and I last summer, arms tight around each other, both laughing at the camera. 

Her little face pressed to mine, eyes bright even though she was already getting sick then. I kept that one.

The taxi slowed. "We're here, miss."

I looked up and my breath caught.

The Langford penthouse stood before me, daring. It was a palace. I felt tiny standing around it.

I squished some notes into the driver's hand, grabbed my bags, and moved past the low iron gate that also formed a fence around the entire building.

 My suitcase wheels, the only available sound to my ears. Relief washed over me. This was safety. I get to live in a clean environment, an environment that feels alive. The environment already whispered peace to my ears.

I stopped at the massive wooden door.

 Dark oak, carved with fancy patterns, and pressed the doorbell. A deep chime echoed inside, my eyes still darting around the entire space, it was much for just a glance after all. 

I smoothed my hair, straightened my simple blouse, and waited. Heart beating a little fast, but excited fast.

The door swung open. And my world stopped.

Marcus stood there. In my face!

Bare chest. Low-slung gray boxers hugging his hips. The clear outline of his cock pressed against the fabric, like it would tear it any moment.

 Beads of water still clung to his shoulders like he'd just stepped out of the shower. His dark hair was messy, damp. That same lazy smile started to form on his lips.

Then his eyes met mine. The smile vanished like he had seen a ghost.

My stomach dropped to the ground. I blinked hard. Rubbed my eyes with two fingers. Looked again. Still him. Still Marcus.

Here. In my new boss's house! 

Half-naked, I had never seen him in such a brief, not this tight, this one carved out the tip of his dick, the type that's meant for gigolos.

"S-Sam?" His voice low, shock all over his face.

My mouth opened. I wanted to scream out his name. I wanted to ask if we were in Texas. But nothing came out.

That confirmed it was actually him, 

My veins thumping against my skin. My suitcase handle slipped from my fingers.

Every promise. Every tear. Every night I waited for a call that never came. It all slammed back into me at once.

"What... what are you doing here?" He stretched his arm like he wanted to touch my arm, then stopped himself.

I found my voice. It came out small and sharp.

"I work here." I found my voice. It came out small and sharp, my eyes fixed on him, at his bare body.

His eyes grew darker. Real panic flashed across his face.

"No. That's not-you can't-"

"I'm Victoria Langford's new personal assistant." My words shook, but I forced them out. "Live-in. Starting today."

He went pale. I was the last person he expected to see around, I didn't belong in that vicinity after all.

I could hear soft footsteps gliding on marble floors. A woman's voice called from inside, light and cheerful.

"Babe? Who's at the door?"

Marcus flinched like he'd been slapped. I stared at him, chest heaving, his nipples still hard like I last remembered, but that doesn't matter right now.

He was here. With her. Living here.

My boss's boyfriend! A live-in boyfriend!

The man who'd promised to marry me, who said he was embarking on a business trip?

The man who'd ghosted me.

The man whose ring I was about to sell to save my sister's life.

Everything I'd deleted a few minutes ago came rushing back. Only now it felt like a cruel joke.

Marcus stepped forward, voice low and urgent. "Sam, listen-this isn't what-"

"Don't." I cut him off, voice hard now. "Don't you dare."

My hands clenched into fists.

The footsteps got closer, Victoria Langford stood before me, her skin shone enough to blind me. She threw a hand over his shoulders.

Over my man's shoulder! No, over my ex's shoulder!

I swallowed a lump, then spread my lips in a convincing smile.

I grabbed my suitcase handle again, knuckles white around it.

Whatever came next, I wasn't running. I just have to choose between my man and this Job!

The nanny, Maria, she'd introduced herself with a quick nod and wide smile, grabbed the second suitcase from the front step without a word. 

She wheeled it smoothly beside mine as we stepped into the foyer. Marble floors gleamed under our feet. I was just too conscious of everything, everything here costs real money. My eyes roamed around, a faint smile clung to my face.

The air smelled expensive, like I had to drop some cents to breathe comfortably here, fresh linen and citrus filled my nostrils.

We turned into the sitting room and my stomach twisted tighter. I jammed my lips together immediately, I can't be found drooling.

Victoria Langford sat on the biggest couch I'd ever seen, cream leather, wide enough to swallow my whole frame. Her laptop balanced on a glass table in front of her. 

My eyes ran through the masterpiece of a human in front of me, blonde hair stuck behind her ears perfectly, a free-sized dress that allowed her skin shine effortlessly, diamond studs catching the light.

 Her eyes caught mine as we entered, blue eyes that could send a man to his knees. For a moment I understood why Marcus was with her, but he was still an asshole for all I care, and I'll never forgive him.

"Welcome, Miss Harper," she said, voice cool and smooth. "Come on in. Sit."

She motioned to the couch across from hers, her eyes flew back to the laptop. I forced my legs to move. Maria parked the suitcases near the wall and disappeared down a hallway. pleated skirt flowing with her, hitting her calves.

I lowered myself onto the edge of the seat, back straight, hands clasped in my lap so she wouldn't see them shake. 

Cold crawled up my spine. The AC hummed softly from a vent overhead, but I knew the real chill came from the man I'd just seen half-naked in this same house. Marcus. My Marcus. Or what used to be.

Victoria tilted her head, her eyes smiled alongside her lips. "You look a little pale. Long trip?"

"Just... excited. And maybe a little nervous." I forced a smile, rubbing both palms, hoping they don't rat me out.

Her lips curved. The smile didn't reach her eyes this time. It was the kind that could slice through glass.

"That's... Understandable. New beginnings are always a bit... unsettling." She closed the laptop halfway, fingers resting on the edge. "Tell me about yourself, Samantha. Why this job?"

I swallowed. "I'm organized. Reliable. I've handled schedules, travel arrangements, and personal errands before. I'm good under pressure." My voice sounded steadier than I felt. "And I need the stability it brings.  For my family."

She nodded slowly. Eyes flickered all over me, like she was sizing me up.

 "Family. Really important. You mentioned a sister in your application?"

"

Yes. Mia. She's... sick. Needs surgery soon. This job means I can help her, hopefully."

Something flickered in Victoria's gaze, softened, maybe. "I respect that, you see... Not all of us are fortunate to have a sibling or siblings." She leaned back. 

"Now, the practical side. You'll handle my calendar, correspondence, some household oversight. You'll live here full-time, I'm sure you already know about that, hence the bags. Your room is upstairs, private bath, good view., I know you'll love that."

I shook my head too fast. "No. It all sounds perfect."

"You seem... distracted. Do you have any questions?" Her eyes studied me for another long second.

"No Ma.. I just.. I'm not. I Promise." I could feel my insides burn as I part my lips to flaunt my pretentious smile.

Victoria's smile sharpened. "Good. Because I value focus. And loyalty. This house runs on trust."

The word loyalty hit like a slap. My palms went damp again. I wiped them on my skirt under the table.

"Tell me," she continued, "how do you handle conflict? If someone crosses a boundary?"

I met her eyes. "I speak up. Calmly. But I don't back down."

"Interesting. And if it's personal?" Eyebrows arched, eyes stern on me.

I felt a lump form in my throat, I wrapped my palms around my duffel bag, steadying myself with it. Images flashed again, Marcus's shocked face, his bare chest, the way he'd said my name as it burned.

 "Personal is... harder. But I'd still protect what matters, personal issues should never affect the Job... And business.

Victoria watched me for a beat. Then she nodded. "Fair enough Samantha."

Silence stretched. She opened the laptop again, fingers flying over the keys. I sat there, heart hammering, mind screaming questions I couldn't ask.

Where is he? Why is he here?

Did he know I was coming? How long has this been going on? 

I wanted closure, I wanted to hear what happened, to know why he stopped calling, to know why he gave me a ring and disappeared.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. Closure wouldn't pay Mia's bills. Closure wouldn't keep a roof over my head. This job would. I chose the job. 

"I'm never going to let him close to me. Sara said he's dead, so is he!" I tried so hard to convince myself of why I should let him be.

For Mia.For myself. 

Victoria finally looked up. Her smile this time was warmer,  real.

"I like you, Samantha. You're direct. You don't waste words. I think we could work well together."

Relief crashed through me so hard my shoulders sagged. "Thank you. You not going to regret hiring me."

She nodded, closed the laptop fully. "Maria!"

The nanny appeared almost instantly, hands folded in front of her.

"Take Miss Harper's bags to the east guest suite. Show her around later. She starts tomorrow morning, eight sharp."

"Yes, ma'am." Maria grabbed both suitcases again.

Victoria stood, smoothing her hair. "And... Welcome to the house once again, Samantha. Dinner's at seven if you'd like to join. Otherwise, your room has a small kitchenette. You could use that, ask Maria foranythingyou want."

 "Thank you, Ms. Langford." I stood too, legs shaky.

"It is Victoria, Samantha," she corrected, already turning toward the hallway. "We're not formal here, Maria would tell you." 

She disappeared around the corner. 

Maria motioned for me to follow. I grabbed my duffel from the floor and trailed her up the wide staircase. My room was at the end of the hall, big windows, queen bed, soft gray walls, a tiny sitting area with a fridge and microwave. Luxurious. Quiet. Safe.

Maria set the suitcases down. "Anything you need, just call the house line. Extension zero."

"Thank you." I smiled back, eyes stuck on the beautiful artwork hung on the wall.  She left with a small nod. The door clicked shut.

I fished my phone out of my duffel bag immediately; I had to speak to Sara at once.

The gadget in my hand, I dropped onto the bed. The softness of the sheets to my skin, I shut my eyes for a while, this felt like... Luxury, it was luxury indeed.

The resounding puh-puh from the phone jerked me back into reality, 

"Girl! How's the palace? You in yet? Spill!" Sara's voice jerked me up. My butt on the edge of the bed. 

Where do I start from? The house? Or the man? 

I laughed, but it came out wobbly, Sara knew me too well.

"What is it, Sammy?" "What's that fake laugh about? I hope that lady didn't disrespect you in any way." I could feel her pulse, one person that would fight the world for me.

The opposite of me, or rather, someone I admired for her strength, never lets anyone intimidate her, or me.

 "Sara... you're not gonna believe this." My voice cracked.

"Try me... Those rich folks," she's always been sensitive around them, her father was one, but that never meant a thing to her.

I took a deep breath. "Marcus is here."

Silence. Then a sharp inhale. "What?!"

"He opened the door. Shirtless. In boxers. Like he lives here, you need to have seen him ."

"Shut up. No. No way. He should be in Texas, or are you in Texas?" Sara's voice went high. 

"Yes way, Sara. He's Victoria's boyfriend. Or whatever. He's living in this house, he's been lying to me all along, girl." My voice dulled on the last sentence,  my eyes grew red instantly, a hard lump clogged my throat.

A beat of stunned quiet. Then Sara exploded. "That lying, cheating, ghosting piece of-Samantha, are you okay? Did you punch him?"

"I wanted to. I really wanted to." My voice cracked. "But I need this job. For Mia. I can't walk away."

Sara's tone softened. "I know. I know, babe. God, I hate him so much right now. You know I never saw any good in him, but when he proposed with that ring, I thought maybe... There could be some goodness after all"

"Me too." I rubbed my eyes. "He looked shocked. Like he didn't expect me. But... he's been here. With her. While I was waiting for a text that never came."

"What are you gonna do?" Sara cursed under her breath.

"Survive. Keep my head down, I'm not seeing him. He was already dead to me before I came here, I'm just... going to save every penny. And stay far away from him. Focus. Yeah... that's it."

"You think he'll try something?"

I closed my eyes. "He already tried to talk. I shut him down, though I was shocked."

"Good. You're stronger than he thinks, I trust you Sammy."

As I swiped a finger over the phone, her last words stuck, it's not necessarily trust, that I know.

It was Sara telling me to be strong, to not do anything stupid, I can't even afford to. This Job, my ticket to a better life, I wasn't going to jeopardize it, not for Marcus.

Then my bare feet hit the cold floor as I moved from one corner to the other, the  room felt bigger than my whole old apartment. 

I grabbed the crisp white sheets, it felt like water against my hands, that probably cost more than my last rent before I moved in with Sara. 

I unzipped my duffel first, fingertips brushing the smooth wood of the wardrobe as I placed  in everything, a few folded blouses, jeans, underwear, the one nice black dress I owned.  Then the ring, I had slipped it into my duffel at the sight of him, I placed it in one of the shelves. 

My sneakers went under the shelf, then I carefully brought out my black Louboutins, Sara's gift for my birthday yesterday. The shiny pair caught the gold lights in the room, blinding me a bit, a small smile tugged at my lips. 

Next was a small photo of Mia and me. I ran my finger over it, and placed it strategically on the nightstand, eyes moistened a bit but my smile overcame it.

Then I walked slowly. My hand rested on the cool marble countertop of the little kitchenette. A mini fridge hummed quietly. A coffee maker sat next to a kettle. Two mugs stared as I grabbed one. Two plates. Everything neat, waiting.

My eyes caught my image as I set my toiletries on the bathroom counter, I pulled a hand over my messy hair, I needed a good wash. 

 Fluffy white towels stacked like clouds. I stared at my reflection for another second. Tired eyes stared back. Same old Samantha, but now standing in a room that she'd only seen in movies.

I peeled off my blouse, then my skirt, my bra. Everything slipped to the floor in a soft heap. Naked now, I stepped closer to the mirror. Curves I usually hid under baggy sweaters looked different here, full breasts, soft hips, the faint red marks Alex's fingers had left on my thighs. 

I traced one with my fingertip. Heat bloomed low in my belly, I felt his soft kisses on my neck again.

I sank into the tub slowly. Warm water wrapped around me like a hug, rising over my stomach, my chest, my shoulders. I sighed, long and deep, letting my head rest against the curved edge.

Then my mind drifted. Back to last night. Back to Alex.

The way his breath had caught when I clenched around him. His hands gripping my hips like he was afraid I'd disappear. 

The filthy-sweet things he whispered against my neck. 

"So perfect... love how you feel... gonna make you come so hard."

My thighs pressed together under the water. A dull, sweet ache pulsed between my legs, remembering every thrust. The way he'd groaned my fake name, "Lena" when he came. I shut my eyes tight. 

My hand drifted down my stomach, almost touching my clit where I felt him, then stopped. No.

I'd done the right thing, it was best that way.

Sneaking out at dawn. No note. No number. No chance for him to hurt me later.

Men left. They always left. Marcus proved that. I couldn't afford another crack in my heart. Not now. Not with Mia counting on me. Not with this job hanging by a thread because of the man sleeping somewhere in this same house.

I reached for the shower gel again. Squeezed a dollop into my palm. Roses and peonies flooded my lungs as I rubbed it over my arms, my breasts, my stomach. Bubbles slid over my skin. 

I scrubbed like I needed to scrub away the shock of seeing Marcus. 

"Welcome to the good life, Sam," I said out loud, voice echoing off the tiles. A small, real smile tugged at my lips as I let my hair soak in enough of the fragranced water.

I leaned back again, eyes closed, letting the warmth soak into my bones.

Then, bang! The bedroom door slammed shut.

My eyes flew open. 

"Who's there? Maria?" I called, voice sharper than I meant.

No sound came.

My heart kicked hard against my ribs. I sat up straighter, bubbles clung to my chest.

 The frosted glass curtain around the tub blurred everything outside, I strained yet saw nothing.

"Hello? Who's there?" I tried again. My voice shook this time.

Footsteps. Slow. Heavy.

Someone was in my room.

I clasped both hands over my bare breasts. Water dripped from my arms. "I said-who's there?"

No answer.

Panic crawled up my throat.  My stomach dropped as I looked around for a possible weapon.

I reached for a towel hanging nearby first, but my fingers were wet and slippery. I missed. The towel fell to the floor with a soft thud.

The footsteps stopped near the bathroom door.

I stared at the curtain, almost shaky. Shadows moved behind it, tall, broad.

"If this is a joke, it's not funny please ." My breath came fast. I swallowed hard.

"Marcus? Is that you?" A long pause.

Then a low voice, deep, smooth, familiar, edged with something I couldn't name.

"Sam."

My blood went cold, my nipples hardened under my arms. It was him.