Maria released her already curled hair from the last iron roller on her head as she stood before the vanity mirror in her room, its off-white LED lights softly illuminating the otherwise dim space.
The comforting fragrance of her vanilla perfume drifted heavily through the air-conditioned atmosphere.
She exhaled as her fingers closed around the wood-colored comb on the white vanity table. She wished she didn't have to go to work today.
Not after yesterday.
Again, she was thankful that Crystal had shown up.
Otherwise, she would have slept even worse.
She opened her eyes and lifted the comb, beginning to work through the curls of her hair.
She observed her outfit—a pink flare, short-sleeved dress that stayed just beneath her knees, paired with black sandal-heels that matched the shade of her glossy, black, line-textured handbag.
Thank God it was Friday at least. Just one more day before a break from a dramatic week.
As she fluffed out the waves of her hair before the mirror, also observing the light powder on her face, her phone buzzed, drawing her attention.
Her ride was here.
She dropped the comb and pulled a tube of clear gloss from a crystal-clear cup on the vanity table, which held different shades of lipstick and gloss.
Maria leaned closer to the mirror, withdrawing the wand from the clear tube with one hand as she applied the gloss to her ombre pink-and-brown lips with the other.
Good. She looked undisturbed, unlike the truth.
She dropped the tube into her bag, grabbed the handle, and strolled out of the room, crossing the small area covered with a beige rug before descending the staircase, where the same rug ran down the center to the last step.
Today she would stay far from Daniel's office, far from Miles, far from everyone.
Maybe if she kept to herself, they'd just leave her alone.
She came down the last stair and paused as her eyes caught the guest room door.
Then she'd be nothing but a struggling woman again who might never get the chance either Miles or Daniel had offered.
Not to mention Grace's soon arrival.
Maria blinked, tightened her grip on her bag, and walked toward the entrance door across the sitting room.
The first step was limiting the time she spent with Miles.
The less time they spent together, the less confused she'd become.
Maria pulled open the door and stepped outside.
The early morning sunrays danced across her eyes before she turned to lock the door behind her.
When she turned, shielding the sunlight with the back of her free hand, she squinted toward the red-colored car parked directly in front of her lawn and stepped forward.
Immediately, another horn sounded from the side of the house, and Maria turned toward the garage driveway.
It was the car Daniel had bought for her.
Inside sat a bald man in the driver's seat she had never seen before, dressed in a black suit.
He immediately opened the door, leaning his upper body out with a friendly wave.
"Good morning, Miss Maria," he said.
Maria paused. Her gaze returned to the red car, and her grip around her bag handle tightened again.
Daniel had sent her car with a driver.
She reached into her bag for her phone and canceled the ride already waiting for her, paying the cancellation fee before making her way toward the garage driveway.
With a frown, she walked to the rear passenger door.
She was beginning to hate Daniel.
Maria opened the car door and climbed into the backseat.
The faint scent of her favorite car fragrance enveloped her as she shut the door—orchid, light and sweet.
The bald man closed his own door, the polite smile never leaving his face.
"Good morning once again, Miss Maria," he said as he reached for the car-key fixed already in the ignition.
He was younger than most chauffeurs she'd seen, closer to Miles' and Daniel's age.
"Good morning," Maria answered politely, placing her bag beside her.
"I tried the door earlier," the man began in a polished, friendly voice. "But after ringing a couple of times, I figured it was better to wait since it was still really early when I arrived. I'm sorry I took you by surprise."
"It's fine," she replied, turning her head toward the window beside her.
The car roared smoothly to life.
"You can call me Kelvin, ma'am," the driver added. "Mr Daniel assigned me to chauffeur you from now on."
Maria's frown deepened, and she folded her arms across her chest.
"Mmm," she replied without turning to face him as she fastened the seat belt beside her.
"O…Okay," he murmured under his breath as he steered the car down the driveway toward the estate road.
Maria didn't mean to be dismissive, but her mood was already fragile before this chauffeuring nonsense.
It was becoming compulsory to honor Mrs Ashford's invitation.
The woman had complimented her work.
Perhaps there was something to build from the request to meet—something that could save her profession from falling apart if she ever decided to walk away from all this.
The car sped past the identical estate houses, the morning sun settling over the dull grey rooftops.
Would her reputation stay safe if she chose to walk away now?
Could she actually leave as easily as she thought she could?
From Daniel maybe.
But not Miles.
Not with how she feared his unpredictability.
**
Rhea rolled her eyes one more time before accessing the door to Maria's office with her staff card, without permission.
Office her foot. A brothel would suit Maria better.
She opened the door and stepped in, pausing just after the door closed behind her.
"Good morning," Rhea said in her most condescending tone the moment she laid eyes on Maria seated behind her desk
.
And on the day Maria actually dressed for her body type, Miles wasn't in the office.
The whore knew exactly what she had been doing.
Maria inhaled as she lifted her face to Rhea.
"Please knock before coming in next time."
Rhea scoffed and crossed her hands over her chest.
"Yeah, I must have forgotten offices are for people who actually work for their success."
Rhea smirked when Maria's gaze turned lethal at her.
Maria's mask was slowly coming off amidst all her deceptive dedication to the company.
"At some point, you'll have to tell me what your problem actually is with me," Maria replied.
Rhea didn't hesitate as she eyed Maria with undisguised disdain.
"Even you want to pretend," she said with a mocking laugh.
Maria's scowl faltered.
"I have a problem with unworthy people being recognized for achievements that shouldn't be theirs," Rhea added. "Especially after how long it took the world to really recognize women for their hard work, only for some women to willingly tarnish what we stand for."
"Please leave," Maria said flatly, as though she wasn't affected, lowering her gaze back to the computer before her.
Rhea shifted her weight onto one hip, her jean trousers stretching around her slim thighs.
"I would waste my time coming here to point out something you already know on a blissful Friday morning," Rhea continued, disappointed Maria had ignored her. "Mr Daniel wants to see you in his office now."
"I'll be there in five minutes," Maria replied without looking up.
"Of course you will," Rhea said maliciously. "You don't have a choice."
Maria lifted her head.
"Neither do you," she returned. "You're acting too much like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum over my project endorsement."
Rhea boiled over.
"I'd much rather commend an intern than your contribution to this project. Your entire success is nothing without Mr Miles and only God knows what else you might be offering him in exchange for your recognition."
"Nothing that you haven't offered him," Maria said. "Your actions make me certain."
"How dare you?" Rhea snapped. "You're a poverty-stricken stray with nothing but your body as your brand."
"Then I wonder why you have no endorsed projects of your own despite being so hardworking and experienced," Maria replied.
Rhea gritted her teeth.
"You'd better respect yourself if you don't want my honest report reaching Mr Miles about your attitude toward hierarchy."
How dare this understudy disrespect her experience? Now she had to start dealing with the tramp's attitude, all because of this stupid project.
Maria pushed her chair back and stood, picking up only her phone from the table.
She circled the desk and approached the door.
"Oh," Rhea said as she stepped aside. "You're walking out on me too?"
Maria paused in front of her.
"It's been five minutes," she replied, keeping her gaze on the door behind Rhea.
Rhea scoffed and uncrossed her arms before turning sassily to open the door.
She walked out first, then looked back about five feet away, fixing Maria with a mocking stare as Maria stepped out of the office as well.
Rhea wouldn't let anyone—especially a woman like Maria—look down on her status in this company.
As expected, cowardly Maria avoided her gaze and walked down the office hallway leading toward the head office.
Rhea rolled her eyes once more as Maria's backside swayed ahead of her as though making a statement of its own.
She simply followed behind, their heels almost clicking in unison against the tiled floor despite the distance between them.
Rhea slowed her steps as she branched toward the secretary's desk by the opening to the left of the passage leading to Daniel's office.
She watched Maria reach the office door, access it, and disappear inside as a sliver of sunlight spilled from within.
Rhea approached the receptionist's desk and tapped on the surface.
The younger woman, dressed in a sky-blue shirt and dark skirt, lifted her head.
Brown eyes peered through transparent glasses, and her dark hair with a couple of colorful hair clips was tied neatly into a ponytail.
"Good morning…" the young woman began politely.
"Morning," Rhea answered quickly, cutting the greeting short before leaning over the solid dark-oak reception desk.
Before the young woman could say anything else—
"Make the announcement for the staff visit now," Rhea ordered. "The staff bus is already at the garage and ready to take everyone."
"O-okay," the young woman replied. "But I thought we were supposed to pay the CEO a visit after work today."
Rhea grimaced, irritated.
"Since when did I last see you in a boardroom giving me instructions?" she asked in an intimidating tone, staring down her nose at the hesitant lady.
"I'm sorry, I..."
"That's your cup of rubbish," Rhea cut in. "I'll be at the garage inspecting employee attendance. They'd better be behind me before I pose with my list. Understood?"
"Yes, ma."
Rhea stepped away from the desk and headed back down the passage toward the general office space.
The courtesy visit to Miles' home would not be an opportunity for Maria to learn where he lived.
**
Up until now, you've been careful.
The company's reputation is pristine, and so far your representation has been exemplary.
Why in the world are you willing to sacrifice all that goodwill for this terrible scandal?
Your brother's woman?
Miles swallowed as his father's words echoed through his mind.
He lay amidst light cream, finely textured wool sheets with matching blankets and pillowcases, dressed in a deep brown long-sleeved loungewear set.
His breathing still strained from the flu, made it difficult to properly inhale the gentle mint fragrance hanging thick in the room.
The evening breeze blew the white inner lining of the curtains, causing them to flutter gently through the open windows.
Opposite the bed were three wide candles—one above the other two—flickering atop a concrete shelf.
The balcony curtains swayed too, overlooking the darkening evening sky.
The stars were already in place, it might not rain tonight.
He had actually looked forward to the staff visit.
For Maria to come into his home.
To read her guilt if Daniel had had his way.
Maybe that would finally make him leave her alone.
But she didn't join the visit, and Rhea had mentioned Maria was in a meeting with Daniel instead and couldn't forfeit it.
He was done playing around with his interest in her.
If the next opportunity presents itself, he would not stop halfway.
Maybe he could try…try to be more careful so he could keep her around him.
At least for the sake of scenes like yesterday not repeating themselves.
"Miles, darling," Mrs Patty called from the living room, making him snap his attention toward the doorway.
Mrs Patty—a plump, average-height woman—walked into his room carrying a folded red umbrella in one hand and a large black bag over the other shoulder.
"Ready to leave?" he asked, his voice thicker than usual from the cold.
She approached him, her rosy fragrance filling the room.
Her curly black hair framed her bronze skin and warm light-brown eyes.
She wore a coat matching her umbrella over a plain wine-colored turtleneck and a black mid-length skirt.
His personal nurse, already in her sixties.
"Yes," she replied, placing the back of her hand against his forehead. "It's eight already, and you're growing past living by yourself."
Miles rolled his eyes as she withdrew her hand.
"It's just the flu, not a heart stroke," he replied.
"Believe me," Patty said, "there are better ways to recover from a cold than depending on medicine all the time."
Miles narrowed his eyes.
She smirked.
Then he sighed.
"At this point, I could really redirect some of this pressure to the company's supply team."
Patty gave him a quizzical stare.
"Pardon me for thinking you came to Mapla to rest and take a vacation."
"I am resting Patty," he replied.
He met her kind, aged eyes as she reached down and gently took his hand.
"Mrs Patty has been around since you were a little boy," she said softly. "Mrs Patty won't always be around."
"Patty can adopt me," Miles teased with a small smile.
"You and those deceptive eyes," she laughed. "You could've met someone you liked by now."
Miles lowered his gaze to where their hands rested together.
"To be honest," Patty continued, "I never expected Daniel would be the one with a public girlfriend while you still have no one.
You would've suited that image better before him."
"You've been with Mr Patty for a long time now," Miles said quietly. "What if it hadn't been him years ago? What if he was someone else…someone you wanted more?"
A warm smile spread across Patty's plump face.
"That's such a deep question," she responded. "But my legs are too tired to stand through that story."
Miles' gaze fell again.
He felt her soft palm lift his face gently by the jaw.
"The sacrifice of being elite—even among those within—is an untainted bloodline."
Miles pulled his face away.
"It doesn't make any sense."
"I know," she admitted with a sigh. "I'm old, and even I think that's old-fashioned."
Miles' conscience chided him.
Patty genuinely believed this was about social class.
Meanwhile, he was only testing the waters—looking for indirect advice about the turmoil in his own heart.
"This one feeling of a lifetime…" he began.
"Yes, yes," Patty interrupted. "Act on it. I'm not saying you won't regret it, because most people regret the best moments after all.
But at least you'll have the memories…modernization too because arranged marriages should've been banned a long time ago."
"The Elites secretly avoid the things ordinary people call freedom," Miles said. "The illusion they present to the public is to follow your heart when, in reality, they expect you to be strategic with it."
"Miles, baby," Patty sighed, rubbing the side of his arm gently. "This is a bedroom, not a boardroom. You should be sleepy by now."
Miles scoffed and looked away again.
"I don't like being interrupted," he muttered.
"I'd know whether you rested properly when I return tomorrow," she replied. "And if you haven't, I'll have to inject you with blood mint."
Miles slowly folded his arms and looked back at her.
"There's no such thing as blood mint," he countered.
"I knew I recognized you as the front-row student from my university days," Patty teased.
Miles internally cringed at the mention of injections.
He wasn't entirely sure how high his tolerance for needles was, considering how rarely he got sick.
"Have a safe drive…and good night, Patty," he said, looking away once more.
"And if it starts raining again…" Patty began.
"You should've brought an extra pair of hands to shut the windows," Miles interrupted. "How am I supposed to sleep properly if I have to keep getting up?"
"All that time you spend at the gym doesn't seem to encourage actual activity despite the muscles I see," Patty shot back. "Not a heart stroke patient, yet you're asking to be treated like one."
Miles sank further into the sheets, surrounded by fluffy pillows propped against the light beige cushioned headboard framed by richly carved brown wooden panels.
"Then you could help me now," he muttered. "Shut the windows and turn on the air conditioning."
"No air conditioning until Monday," Patty called as she reached the door.
Miles scoffed, loud enough for her to hear.
"Tsk, tsk," Patty shook her head with a smile. "I genuinely wonder how the woman who caught your eye manages to keep up with you."
"Text me when you're home, Patty," he replied, his tone still carrying a hint of annoyance.
"Goodnight, CEO."
She pulled the door shut behind her, leaving Miles alone with the quiet room.