The scarf was too beautiful to wear.

Midnight blue, stitched with delicate gold leaves. It looked like something worn by queens not housemaids.

I stared at it on my bed for minutes, unsure what message it carried

A gift?, a message?, a warning?

Or something more dangerous than all three?

I folded it back into the box, hands trembling slightly.

Whatever it meant, i knew this much:

Chinedu was not finished with me.

"Who gave you that?" Sarah's voice broke the silence.

I turned. She was standing by the laundry door, arms folded, her brows raised with curiosity and a hint of something sharper.

"No one," I said quickly.

She smirked, I saw the box this morning. Looked expensive.

I shrugged, folding towels. Maybe Madam forgot it in storage.

Sarah came closer, lips pursed, listen, Tomiwa you are new here, so let me just tell you don't get comfortable.

"I'm not." I replied.

Good, because comfort is how girls like us get used, then tossed.

I wanted to argue, but i did not

Not because i agreed but because i wasn't sure she was wrong.

By afternoon, a new presence arrived at the mansion.

A sleek black SUV rolled through the gates, the driver uniformed, the windows tinted. I was standing in the corridor with a tray of glasses when the door opened.

She stepped out like she owned the world.

A tall and stunning woman dressed in a blood-red dress and silver heels, how hair was pinned up like a crown, and her lips painted to match her clothes.

She did not smile, she did not look around.

She asked only one question,

"Where is Chinedu?"

The air shifted.

I stood frozen as Madam Amara, the head housekeeper, rushed forward with a greeting, Miss Onyeka we did not know you were coming.

Onyeka?

The name felt like a slap.

His ex?

His fiancé?

His everything?

They did not say, but the way she walked past us without even glancing in my direction told me everything I needed to know.

She belonged, i did not.

And worse? She knew it.

The house became quieter after that. Chinedu wasn't seen for hours. Rumors floated between the staff quarters like smoke.

"She's back."

"She wants him to go to Abuja."

"She's rich like oil money rich."

I tried to stay focused, but it was impossible, every time i passed a mirror, i wondered if i looked too curious, too close, too guilty.

By nightfall, i could not sit still.

I went to the garden, needing air, needing space.

That's where i found him

He was standing by the fountain, sleeves rolled up, shirt untucked, as if he had been pacing. The moonlight hit his cheek just right, casting him in silver and shadow.

He did not look surprised to see me.

I thought you had be sleeping, he said voice low.

"I couldn't."

"Me neither." he said.

I came closer. Is she staying?

He shook his head. Not if i can help it.

"Why is she here?"

"To remind me of who i used to be."

That answer made my heart beat faster. And who was that?

He looked at me. "Someone i hated."

"I don't think i could ever hate you," i whispered.

His breath caught just for a second.

"Don't say that yet," he said. "You don't know what i have done."

"I don't care."

He came closer, just enough that I could feel the warmth of him.

"You should care."

His eyes dropped to my lips.

"You should run."

I am tired of running, i replied,

That cracked something in him.

He reached up slowly and touched my cheek with the back of his fingers.

Not possessive.

Not hungry.

Just soft.

Like he was remembering a version of himself he had not seen in years.

"You are not like them," he said.

"I'm not trying to be."

He stepped back suddenly, jaw tight. That is the problem.

I blinked. "Why?"

"Because Onyeka will see it, she always sees it, and she kills what threatens her."

I swallowed hard. "What am i to you?"

He did not answer.

But he did not walk away either.

Later that night, i lay in bed staring at the scarf again.

There was no name stitched into the silk, no scent, no message.

But everything about it felt like a confession.

And i didn't know which terrified me more

That he was falling.

Or that i already had.

The next morning, the house felt different,

Heavier.

Colder.

Like someone had dimmed the lights inside every room, even though the sun was out in full force.

I moved silently through the hallways, trying to avoid notice especially hers.

But Onyeka had a presence that filled every corner. Her perfume lingered long after she passed, and the sound of her heels echoed like a threat.

At breakfast, the main dining table was set for two.

It was always like that when Chinedu stayed in. Silver cutlery, folded napkins, imported tea. A private chef from France prepared everything, even though he rarely ate more than toast.

I stood by the kitchen doorway, peeking.

They were seated across from each other Onyeka in another flawless dress, her back straight, posture perfect. Chinedu, meanwhile, looked like he had not slept.

Their words were low, but their body language screamed volumes.

Onyeka leaned forward.

Chinedu leaned away.

She smiled.

He blinked too slow.

You could tell he wanted to be anywhere else.

And still they had history.

History i could not compete with.

In the kitchen, Sarah caught me staring again.

"You are not very good at hiding your feelings," she said, sipping coffee.

I turned away. "I don't have feelings for him."

She chuckled, you keep telling yourself that.

I grabbed a tray and ignored her.

But she was not wrong.

Later, i was assigned to bring fresh fruit to the upstairs lounge, i hesitated. That meant walking past Onyeka's guest room.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, i heard her voice.

It was not loud.

But it was sharp.

"Tell me the truth, Chinedu. Is there something going on with her?"

I froze.

The "her" was not named.

But i knew.

You're imagining things, Chinedu replied, his voice clipped.

"Am I?" Her tone turned playful. Because i have seen the way you look at her, like you forgot i ever existed."

Long pause.

"No one forgets you," he muttered.

Another pause.

"Then prove it."

Silence.

Silence so thick it made my heart pound.

I ran before i could hear more.

Back in my room, i tried to distract myself by folding sheets, cleaning windows anything to keep my hands busy, but my thoughts stayed on that hallway.

The words, the tension, the silence.

What was he proving?

And how?

I hated that it mattered to me.

But it did.

That evening, a bouquet of red hibiscus flowers was delivered to the mansion. Not from outside but from the private greenhouse in the back.

Madam Amara told me to place it in the guest suite.

Onyeka's suite.

I did not want to go, but i could not say no.

When i opened the door, she was seated at the vanity table, brushing her hair like a queen from a fairytale.

I froze.

She looked at me through the mirror. "Come in."

I stepped inside slowly, holding the flowers like a shield.

They're from Chinedu, i said quietly.

She smiled, but there was no kindness in it, only triumph.

"How sweet," she replied. He always did know how to apologize.

I placed the vase on the table, careful not to spill water.

Onyeka turned and faced me directly.

You are very pretty, she said.

I blinked. "Thank you."

"And naive."

I swallowed. "i just do my work, ma."

She leaned closer, good because this house? It does not belong to girls who forget their place.

She did not raise her voice.

She did not need to.

Every word cut like glass.

I left the room without looking back

That night, i did not sleep.

I kept replaying everything she said, every look, every word between her and Chinedu.

Maybe Sarah was right.

I was getting too close.

Too comfortable.

And in houses like this, comfort could kill.