Elena's hands trembled as she stood frozen in the marble-floored corridor of the King mansion. The whispers from the other maids traveled down the hall like sharp little daggers.
"She's the one. The maid who spilled coffee on Mr. King and somehow didn't get fired."
"Ha! More than that. Didn't you hear? She's been seen leaving his study late at night."
"And now the tabloids are saying she's his mistress. Imagine—a billionaire choosing a maid over Victoria Blake!"
Each word burned into Elena's skin. She gripped her cleaning rag tighter, fighting the sting of tears. She wanted to shout, to tell them all it wasn't true, but her voice lodged like a stone in her throat.
It wasn't just staff gossip anymore. That morning, she'd overheard the butler murmuring about an article circulating online. Someone had leaked photos—blurry shots of her carrying coffee into Adrian's office, of Adrian glancing at her during a charity dinner, of her leaving his car when he'd dropped her discreetly at the hospital to check on Liam.
The photos were innocent on their own. But the captions… they twisted everything.
The Billionaire's Secret Romance?
Adrian King's Mysterious Maid Lover
From Rags to Riches: Elena Carter, the Cinderella of New York?
Elena's heart pounded as she hurried down the hall, keeping her head down. She could feel the judgment in every glance, the unspoken accusations.
When she finally reached Adrian's study, she paused at the heavy oak door, pressing her palms against the cool wood. She needed to quit. She needed to walk away before the fire burned her whole life down.
But before she could knock, his voice called from inside. "Enter."
Her breath caught. Of course he knew she was there. Adrian always knew.
Slowly, she stepped inside.
The study was dimly lit, bookshelves towering like silent judges on either side. Adrian sat behind his vast mahogany desk, his suit jacket discarded, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Papers were spread before him, but his storm-grey eyes were fixed solely on her.
Elena swallowed hard. "Mr. King… I—"
"Adrian," he interrupted softly, though his tone carried steel. "Say it."
She hesitated. "Adrian."
The name felt dangerous on her tongue. Too intimate. Too easy to get used to.
He leaned back in his chair, studying her with that unreadable expression that made her heart race. "You've seen the articles."
"Yes," she whispered, fingers tightening around her rag.
"And now you think it's best to leave."
Her eyes shot up, startled. "How do you—"
"Because I know you, Elena," he said smoothly. "You're proud. You'd rather run than let anyone see you broken."
She flinched, his accuracy cutting too close to the bone. "This scandal… it will ruin me. Liam—what if the school hears about it? What if he gets bullied because of me?"
Adrian's jaw tightened at the mention of her younger brother. For a moment, his mask cracked, and she glimpsed something fierce, protective. "No one will touch Liam. Not while I'm here."
Her chest ached. Why did he say things like that? Why did he make it sound like he was more than just her employer?
"You don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "They're calling me a gold-digger, a homewrecker. Victoria's name is everywhere, and she'll never let this go. She'll make me suffer."
"Victoria is irrelevant," Adrian said sharply, rising to his feet. His height, his presence, filled the room. "The only thing that matters is whether you trust me."
Her lips parted. Trust. That was the problem. She wanted to, but how could she trust a man whose world was built on power, while hers was so fragile it could crumble with one headline?
Adrian crossed the room, stopping just in front of her. She could smell his cologne, subtle and expensive. He reached out, his hand brushing hers, but she jerked back.
"Don't," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "Don't make this harder."
A muscle ticked in his jaw. "You think distance will protect you. But it won't. Walking away won't silence them. If you leave now, Elena, they'll only believe the lies more."
His words trapped her, a cage she couldn't escape.
Before she could answer, the door burst open. Victoria stood there, her designer heels clicking against the floor, her expression smug.
"Well, well. Isn't this cozy?" she drawled, her mother trailing behind her with equal disdain. "The maid and the master. I must admit, it's better drama than any soap opera."
Elena froze, her face flushing with shame. Adrian, however, didn't flinch. His eyes turned to ice.
"You're trespassing, Victoria."
"Oh, please," she scoffed. "The world deserves to know who you're throwing your empire away for." She pulled out her phone, the camera already recording. "Smile, Elena. Say hello to your fifteen minutes of fame."
Elena's heart stuttered, panic clawing at her throat.
Adrian's hand shot out, snatching the phone and hurling it against the wall, where it shattered. "Get out," he said, voice low and dangerous.
Victoria's mother gasped. "Adrian, this is unacceptable!"
"No," he growled. "What's unacceptable is this circus you've created. If you value what little dignity you have left, you'll leave. Now."
The venom in his tone sent both women retreating, though not without Victoria hissing, "This isn't over."
When the door slammed shut, Elena's knees nearly buckled. She staggered back, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Adrian caught her arm, steadying her. "Don't listen to them," he murmured.
But the damage was done. Victoria wasn't bluffing—she would make sure the scandal spread like wildfire.
That night, Elena couldn't sleep. She tossed in her small room at the mansion, haunted by whispers and flashing cameras in her dreams. By morning, dark circles bruised her eyes.
Desperate for air, she slipped out into the garden. The early sun bathed the roses in gold, the fountain trickled softly, and for a brief moment, she could pretend the world wasn't crumbling.
She closed her eyes, letting the breeze kiss her skin.
"Elena."
Her heart leapt. She turned to see Adrian standing at the edge of the path, his hands in his pockets. He looked tired too, shadows under his eyes, but his presence was no less commanding.
"You shouldn't be here," she murmured.
"Neither should you." He stepped closer, his gaze piercing. "But here we are."
She tried to look away, but he tilted her chin up gently, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Do you regret it?" he asked softly.
Her breath caught. "Regret what?"
"Meeting me. Letting me into your world."
Tears welled in her eyes. "It doesn't matter what I feel. This can't end well."
For the first time, Adrian's mask cracked completely. He looked at her not as a billionaire, not as her employer, but as a man. Vulnerable. Raw.
"It matters to me," he said.
Her lips parted, the confession hanging between them like fragile glass. For a moment, she swore he might kiss her.
But the spell shattered with the sudden sound of voices. Loud. Aggressive.
"Elena Carter! Over here!"
"Smile for the camera!"
She spun around, horrified, to see reporters flooding through the gates, cameras flashing like lightning. Someone had tipped them off—Victoria, no doubt.
Adrian's arm wrapped around her protectively as the reporters surged closer, shouting questions.
"Are you really Adrian King's mistress?"
"Is it true you've ruined his engagement?"
"Elena! How much is he paying you?"
Her vision blurred. The world tilted. And all she could think was: It's over. My life is over.
To be continued....