The sweet maid and the millionaire

ickly to prepare dinner, the scent of polished wood, and the golden ornaments gleaming under the chandelier lights-all of it f

ng boring meetings, managing businesses, fulfilling the expectations of a name that had held power in Romanian high society for centuries, and above

ch passing day. As he crossed the foyer, where the echo of his footsteps resounded, Mihai thought about the place surrounding him and the life that was ex

in the eye without feeling an unbearable weight on his chest. His father accepted no excuses or weaknesses. Ever since Mihai had been old enough to

main salon, her voice soft yet firm-"

asped together and his expression grave. The air in the room was thick with tension. The

cu ordered, his voice

arching for an excuse, a way to avoid the conversa

at made Mihai feel small despite his height-"This year, you turned twenty, and you can no longer pretend to be a child.

the moment had arrived. But he wasn't ready. He didn't want to, nor could he, see his life reduced to a

ng to stay calm, though the u

. In his mind, Mihai was already prepared for a

ge with the Ionescu family. She is a good choice for your future, Mihai. She is well-e

g woman, suitable for marriage, but completely foreign to his desires and feelings. Somehow, the idea of spe

he couldn't live according to his plans? How could he tell him that his expectations of an arr

nally asked, his voice trembling with su

tered blasphemy. His gaze was cold, but in it,

ay with your feelings. You need to consider what we have taught you."- His father's face softened sli

less. Nothing he said would change the course of events. His family'

ing his body tense with restrained anger. Was this real

he mansion, which had once been his home, no longer felt welcoming. The luxury and wealth that ha

of his father, of society, of the Ionescu name, crushed him with every step he took. And in that moment, something inside him changed. From tha

ill far from be