The maids watched in awe as Megara expertly prepared the coffee, its rich aroma of almond, bay leaf, and freshly ground beans filling the entire mansion. With her hair pulled into a neat bun, Megara focused intently on grinding more coffee, her movements precise. She had instructed the maids not to interfere, worried that one wrong move could ruin the delicate batch.
The maids giggled but managed to keep their composure. "The young madam is exceptionally talented," one whispered. "It's the first time the master has ever brought a girl home. She must be someone special."
"I definitely agree! Maybe she's his girlfriend," another chimed in excitedly. "She's so beautiful, and I'm sure the Big Madam will love her, too. Look, they're a perfect match made in heaven."
"Did you see the way he held her in the living room?" another asked, giggling. "Like Prince Charming holding his Cinderella."
"And the bickering? The master usually screams or breaks things when he's teased, but around her, he's mischievous, happy, and most of all, calm—like a coaxed baby."
The gossip grew louder, and the murmurs attracted Megara's attention. Mariah, a senior maid, noticed her discomfort and cleared her throat, a silent warning. Megara looked away and returned to her task. Mariah moved closer, her voice a low whisper. "You scared the young madam. What do you think the master will do if he finds out?" The maids looked down, their shoulders slumping in silent apology.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Uriel sat reading a fashion magazine. He stopped on a page with a red-haired model in a long, strapless red dress with a side slit. He wondered what Megara would look like in such a dress, with her height and long legs. The dress would be perfect for her, he thought, closing the magazine as the rich scent of coffee filled his nostrils.
He tossed the magazine aside and walked to the kitchen door, where he had a clear view of Megara, a look of complete concentration on her face as she worked. For some unknown reason, his heart slammed against his chest. He could hear its furious beat and felt an unprecedented rush of happiness just from watching her.
He smiled, still peeking through the open door. "Beat it, Hugo. This is a sight you don't get to see very often, and I saw it first," he muttered, a wide, genuine smile on his face. He clumsily pushed the door, and it swung open, startling everyone. Before anyone could spot him, he ducked into a corner. Megara and the others froze but said nothing. Mariah went to shut the door, but Uriel whispered for her to leave it open. She did as she was told, smiling inwardly at his uncharacteristically love-struck behavior.
Mariah returned to the kitchen. Megara had just finished the coffee. "Hey, ma'am, was that Uriel just now?" Mariah asked, a hopeful note in her voice.
"No, it wasn't," Megara replied awkwardly, maintaining her composure. "The young master is in his bedroom."
"My name is Mariah, young madam. You can call me by my name and drop the formalities," Mariah said kindly.
Megara smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I can't call you Mariah. It's too disrespectful. I wasn't raised that way." Everyone was stunned by her politeness.
"Such a respectful child. Your mother must be so proud," Mariah said. Megara's smile faltered for a second before she quickly recovered.
Megara walked to the cupboard where the coffee cups were arranged and took out a set. "I'm done here. Could you please inform him for me?" she asked. Before a maid could leave, Uriel barged in, stunning everyone.
"Oh, Uriel! You're here just in time. Hope you don't mind me using the cup?" she asked.
Uriel mentally face-palmed. He wondered if she was being polite or sarcastic. "What kind of question is that, Meg? If you can't use the cup, do you intend on serving me with your mouth? I wouldn't mind," he teased, and Megara's face flushed. "Look, you're blushing."
Mariah bowed respectfully and gestured for the other maids to leave. "Hey, ma'am, please don't go. I made a lot of coffee for all of you since you helped me," Megara said, pouring the coffee into glass cups. "Here, you can have this."
Mariah hesitated. "Young madam, these are the family's cups. Ordinary servants like us aren't permitted to use them."
Megara gave Uriel a pained, pleading look.
Uriel quickly grabbed his cup and a pot of coffee and sat on a kitchen stool. "Go ahead, Mariah. You can all use them. It's not like anyone else is using them, and we can always buy new ones," he said, sipping his coffee. Megara smiled and served the others.
A few minutes later, the kitchen was filled with guards, maids, and every servant in the house, all eager to try her coffee. She smiled at their praise while Uriel watched her with an excitement he couldn't hide. He didn't even realize he was smiling proudly until she glanced at him from amongst the clamoring servants.
Megara finished serving and stored the three extra pots of coffee. She gave Mariah instructions on how to preserve the coffee while she was away. Uriel then left the kitchen without a word or a glance at her. She wondered what she had done wrong. Wasn't he just smiling minutes ago? she thought as she began washing the utensils.
She was done, and it was time to leave. Uriel appeared before her with a Gucci shopping bag. He held it out to her, his face flushed and unable to meet her gaze.
Megara looked at his red ears, her mind reeling. "Uriel, are you blushing?" she asked curiously, her hand reaching for his face. He held the bag out to block her. "What is this?"
Uriel's brow furrowed. He wondered if she was so poor she hadn't seen a Gucci bag. "Are you serious? It's a Gucci shopping bag from the Gucci brand. Don't you know that?" he asked.
Megara took the bag and stepped back. "Ohhh, I'm not surprised." He said his voice laced with sarcasm.
She almost kicked him, but he pulled back. "Shut up, chicken brain! I know this is Gucci. I'm just curious what's inside."
"It's a gift for you. You have to put it on since your uniform is dirty and you reek of sweat," he remarked.
Megara dramatically sniffed her suit. "Go get a bath and put this on." He ordered but she glared at him.
"Thanks to you, I'm like this, but I have two other uniforms at home," she replied before walking away with a maid who showed her to the guest bathroom.
Uriel paced the living room, a knot of impatience tightening in his chest. Megara had been in the bathroom for ages. Just as he was about to give up, she emerged. She was wearing a flowing, chiffon dress—a deep blue, floral-patterned dress that hugged her frame and gave way to a graceful, floor-length skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, highlighting her small, pouty lips and the striking gray of her eyes. The dress was a perfect fit, making her long legs look even longer.
Uriel found himself completely speechless, his breath catching in his throat. He watched, mesmerized, as she walked toward him. She had to snap her fingers in front of his face before he came back to earth.
"How does this look?" she asked, twirling in a full circle.
"It's... uh, beautiful," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It suits you perfectly."
Megara looked down at the dress, a small, pleased smile on her face. "Aren't you a sweet talker?" she said, holding her work uniform in her hand. "I should head home. It's getting late."
Uriel slowly reached out, taking the uniform from her hand and passing it to Mariah, who had been standing nearby. "Throw this out immediately," he commanded. Mariah walked away with the uniform, and Megara tried to reach for it, but Uriel held her back. "That's trash. Don't let it ruin your dress."
Megara pulled away from him, taking three steps back. "That's my uniform, and I assure you, after a good wash, it'll be clean," she replied.
Uriel tilted his head to the side, a silent doubt showing on his face.
"Stop trying to make decisions for me, Uriel," she said, her voice sharp. "It only makes me disgusted with you."
The words hit him hard. A slight frown flickered across his face, but he quickly composed himself. He pulled an envelope from his jacket and held it out to her. "Here's seventeen thousand pounds in cash for the coffee and your precious time," he said. "The driver will take you home. I'll see you later."
Megara didn't take the money, but he shoved it into her hand. "Take your money, and I hope I never see you again," she retorted, her voice full of ice. She turned to storm away, but Uriel grabbed her wrist.
"Let go of me! Haven't I made your coffee and played your game enough? What do you want from me?" she demanded.
A mischievous smile spread across Uriel's face as his hand traced the side of her cheek. "I want your attention, Megara. I want you to look at me and smile the way you smile at Hugo," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I want that smile to be mine alone, and I know just how to get it."
Megara's eyes went wide with disbelief. Before she could speak, he placed a hand over her mouth, shushing her. "Don't speak. Forget I said anything," he said, his gaze locking with hers. "I want you to pretend to be Black Agate's daughter for a while and help my cousin get rid of a suspicion. I promise to compensate you and offer you protection." He slowly freed her mouth, still holding her gaze.
"What if the media finds out? My reputation would be ruined," she said, panic creeping into her voice. "How do you expect me to trust you after all you've put me through?
He smiled and made a shushing sound. "I'll make sure they never find out. That's a promise."
He stepped aside. "Take the money and leave. Or I can't guarantee what my hands might do when I get angry. And if you can't use it, donate it to charity since that's what poor people like you do."
Megara's jaw tightened, and her fists clenched. She stared at his retreating back, a wave of disgust washing over her. Mariah walked up to her, offering a warm, understanding smile.
"Young madam, this way, please. The driver is waiting," Mariah said, gently gesturing outside. "Don't take the young master's words to heart. He might seem cruel, but he's actually a soft and caring person who has been through a lot. I hope you don't hate him because of it."
Megara simply nodded, walking toward the open car. She gave a small wave to Mariah, who waved in return. As soon as she was inside, the guard closed the door, and the car pulled away. From the balcony above, Uriel watched the car disappear down the street. He locked eyes with Mariah, who shook her head in silent sympathy before turning to go back inside.
AT THE SHAW MANSION.
Megara asked the driver to pull over a few meters from the mansion. She said goodbye, her heart thumping with anticipation as she walked toward the imposing house. She braced herself, expecting her aunt's next cruel remark. Just two days ago, upon her discharge from the hospital, her aunt, Millicent, complained that Megara was the cause of her failed spa day and a missed brunch with the other wealthy women in the estate. Millicent was obsessed with pleasing people who only cared about her for her money, and she didn't seem to care about her niece's health at all.
Megara sighed and gently pressed the doorbell. The sound was audible from inside, but no one came to answer. The new maids, usually on high alert, were nowhere to be seen. Megara's heart ached as her fingers, clad in a thin chiffon dress, began to tremble from the cold.
After several attempts, she gave up and sat on the front porch. She had no idea how many hours had passed or how many people had seen her. All she wanted was to get inside and take a hot bath. She hugged her knees to her chest, trying to figure out what to do until an idea struck her like lightning.
Megara ran to the side of the mansion, looking up at the balcony of her room. She calculated the distance she'd have to climb to reach it. She smiled, rubbing her palms together to create warmth, temporarily forgetting the cold.
She began climbing the tree next to her balcony, steadying herself on a thick branch. She noticed the small gap separating the tree from the balcony and prepared to jump. But suddenly, her dress snagged, throwing her off balance. She braced for the worst: a fractured skull, broken ribs, or maybe even a coma. She covered her eyes, but just as she was about to fall, a strong hand caught her, pulling her close in a bridal carry.
She traced his strong, muscular arm up to a hard, sturdy chest, and finally, to his face. He had dark hair pulled into a shoulder-length mullet and dark brown eyes. His lips were pink, and a tattoo was visible on the side of his neck, just peeking out from a green turtleneck sweater.
He smiled, still holding her tight, his teeth gleaming as he stared at her crimson face. "You climb quite rigidly and carelessly for a girl," he whispered in her ear. "If I hadn't come to your rescue, I'm afraid you might have ruined your angelic face."
Megara snapped out of her daze and unceremoniously pushed him away as if he were a virus, adjusting her gown. "Calm down, princess," he chuckled. "From a distance, someone might mistake you for a monkey."
Megara scoffed, a surge of anger rising in her chest. She threw a punch, but he smoothly blocked it. "You've got a nice punch. Where did you learn it?" he said, a hint of sarcastic amusement in his voice.
Getting bored of his incessant chatter, Megara turned and started climbing the tree again. "Look, I don't have time for you. Just be on your way, and I'll be on mine," she said rudely, hoping to get rid of him. But her resistance only seemed to pique his interest.
"You're not going to get anywhere with that height. Why not try the front door again? Otherwise, someone might call the police and accuse you of stealing," he said, trying to persuade her. She gave him a stink eye, which only made him chuckle.
Megara hopped down and walked up to him, folding her arms. "Have you noticed that you're an annoying chatterbox?" she asked.
He nodded, a completely blank expression on his face. She tilted her head, not surprised by his blunt response. "Well, then, be on your way. I've wasted enough of my energy."
"What if I want you to waste it on me?" he challenged, his voice more of a dare.
She glared at him, her gaze sharp and deadly. "I can help you get in, but only if you tell me if this is your house," he said.
Megara didn't reply. Instead, she took an unexpected step backward before performing a martial arts backflip, her feet landing on the tree and launching her like a projectile. She landed safely on the balcony and glared down at him.
The boy laughed, the sound echoing as he dramatically bowed in admiration. "I've been completely floored by you, Megara. There's more to you than meets the eye."
She was startled to hear her name from a stranger but maintained her composure. "I know you must be surprised, but don't worry. I'm not going to harm my top benefactor. We'll meet again sometime, and I'll treat you to a nice meal."
Megara froze, but before she could call him back, he had already disappeared. She opened the glass door and walked into her room, closing it behind her. She couldn't shake the strange feeling he left her with. She tried to forget about it, but a nagging thought remained: if he knew who she was, someone was watching her. But who and where?