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Lena's POV
Lena had always felt like the world was a place where she didn't belong. The days of her childhood, spent in a dimly lit apartment with a single mother who barely scraped by, felt like distant memories she preferred not to revisit. She had learned early on to fend for herself, to never expect too much from anyone, and to trust no one but herself. Life, in her experience, was about surviving, not thriving.
When the opportunity to work in another country arose, Lena didn't hesitate. The promise of a better life-away from the prying eyes of judgment and the shackles of her past-was a beacon she couldn't resist. The job was as a housekeeper in a luxurious estate for a wealthy family. It wasn't glamorous, but it was better than the grim prospects at home.
The mansion was a place of contrasts. Grand, yet cold. Impressive, yet lonely. And the people-well, they had their own lives, their own worlds. Lena remained mostly in the background, blending into the shadows. She didn't expect friendship, and she certainly didn't expect anything more.
One particular evening, while finishing up in the kitchen, she noticed him. Max Kingston. The man who owned the estate. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, brooding eyes that seemed to see right through her. Max was different from the others. While the family and guests treated her like a shadow, he treated her as if she mattered. At first, Lena dismissed it. She wasn't here to make friends. But the way he looked at her made her feel... seen. And that was the last thing she ever wanted.
It started with small exchanges-a brief smile, a word here and there. He was polite, but there was something more in his gaze. It unsettled her. Lena knew the risks of becoming entangled with someone like him. Men like Max were dangerous, with their power and wealth, capable of turning her life upside down without even trying.
One night, she found herself standing in the corner of the grand living room, wiping down glasses and silently observing the opulent gathering. Max stood across the room, a glass of whiskey in hand, talking to a group of well-dressed guests. He looked so out of place in the crowd, his posture stiff and guarded, his eyes distant. Lena couldn't help but wonder about the weight that seemed to burden him.
As the evening wore on, she found herself alone in the hallway near the exit, preparing to leave for the night. The house was quiet, the guests had started to trickle out, and the air felt thick with something she couldn't put her finger on.
Then, out of nowhere, Max appeared at the end of the hall, his tall frame casting a shadow against the walls. His gaze locked with hers, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.
"You're still here?" he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.
Lena nodded, unsure of what to say. "Just finishing up."
He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "You work hard. I've noticed."
She didn't respond. What could she say? Thank you for noticing? Or perhaps, I'm just trying to survive?
"I've never asked your name," Max continued, his voice almost too soft for the space between them.
"Lena."
He smiled, a small, rare smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Lena. It's nice to meet you properly." He hesitated, his hand brushing against the back of his neck. "Would you like to join me for a drink?"
Lena knew better than to accept. She wasn't here for a fling, for distractions. But there was something about the way he looked at her-like she wasn't just another servant in his house, like she mattered. It made her heart ache with a longing she hadn't allowed herself to feel in years.
Before she could turn away, the words slipped out. "Alright. Just one drink."
Max smiled, his gaze lighting up with something that almost looked like relief.
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