Inside Vincent's car en route to the mansion, Margaret couldn't help but feel anxious about her decision to become a private nurse.
"Vincent, are you sure my employer will be kind?" she asked, staring out the window, unable to imagine what awaited her.
"Of course. Don't you trust me? Would I have lasted there—and recommended you—if he wasn't?" Vincent teased, trying to ease her nerves.
"I promised Marilyn and your parents, didn't I? Do you really think I'd let anything happen to you?" he added, his tone now serious.
"It's just…" Margaret hesitated, but didn't finish her thought.
"Look, don't be scared. If Washington, DC. feels intimidating, don't worry—I won't leave you. All you need to do is take care of your employer's father. Lord Martin is kind, and I'm sure you'll get along," Vincent reassured her.
"And besides, he's not paralyzed or recovering from a stroke. You just need to make sure he takes his medication on time. His condition's a bit delicate, and he often forgets to take his mediciness—sometimes they find him unconscious," Vincent added, eyes fixed on the road.
At the Powers mansion
Edward, impatient by nature, couldn't stop asking his staff when Vincent and the new nurse would arrive. Lord Martin noticed and asked a servant to bring his wheelchair closer to his son.
"Edward, son, you need to learn to be less impatient," the old man said gently.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I've got a business meeting tonight, and I don't want to leave you until the new nurse arrives," Edward replied, trying to mask his irritation.
Lord Martin was about to respond when Tyra Simmons—Edward's current girlfriend—arrived. Knowing his father disliked her, Edward quickly ordered a servant to escort Lord Martin to his room to avoid conflict.
As Tyra stepped out of the car, she immediately displayed her usual arrogance and disdain—traits the old man and the entire household detested.
"Take all my shopping bags and put them in the living room. Be careful—especially with the expensive wine for Daddy Martin. One broken bottle and your life won't be enough to pay for it!" she barked, directing her scorn at Frances Hale, the mansion's head housekeeper, respected by everyone including Lord Martin and Edward.
While Frances was gathering the bags, one of the wine bottles accidentally shattered. Tyra was about to lash out when Edward intervened.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to," Frances said, embarrassed.
"Mrs. Hale, it's okay. I'll handle this," Edward said.
"My God, that wine was expensive! Broken by a maid. She's so stupid—brain of a cockroach!" Tyra shouted, instantly igniting Edward's temper.
"Tyra, enough," he said firmly.
"If she were my maid, I'd fire her. She's useless! Like I told you, Edward—get rid of her!"
"I said enough!" Edward snapped, his day officially ruined.
"You're yelling at me?" Tyra asked, stunned that her boyfriend of nearly a year would raise his voice.
"Yes, because you've gone too far! Don't forget—the woman you called stupid and useless is the one who took care of me and Dad. She's been with us long before I met you. We treat our staff with respect—especially Frances, who's been here longer than any of us," Edward said sharply.
"But I was just saying—" Tyra tried to explain.
"Saying what? Did I ask you to buy wine for Dad? You know it's forbidden for him," Edward snapped.
Amid the tension, Vincent finally arrived with the long-awaited nurse. When Lord Martin heard, he insisted on meeting her.
"Apologies, Sir Edward. We got stuck in traffic," Vincent explained.
"This is the one you mentioned?" Edward asked coolly, though he couldn't help but stare at the young woman's quiet beauty.
"Yes, this is Margaret Salazar," Vincent introduced.
"G-good day, sir," Margaret greeted nervously, handing over her documents.
"If you're worried about the men around here, don't be. They're private guards assigned to protect Dad and the mansion. He's a former politician, so I make sure he's always secure," Edward explained before introducing her to his father.
As Edward reviewed her credentials, he was quietly impressed by her near-perfect grades.
"You're hired," he said simply but firmly.
"Th-thank you, sir!" Margaret stammered, her voice trembling with both nerves and hope.
"This is my father, Lord Martin Powers. Your job is to monitor him and make sure he takes his medication on time," Edward explained.
"Good day, Lord Martin," Margaret greeted shyly.
"Don't worry, I don't bite. Forgive my son—he's just too focused on business, always so serious," Lord Martin joked.
Days later. Dr. Harry Gates arrived to check on Don Martin's condition under Margaret's care. He was stunned by the progress—Don Martin was visibly stronger and even beginning to stand on his own.
"I never expected Margaret to be this exceptional. She's not even licensed yet, but look how she cares for your father," Dr. Gates said.
"I've noticed too, Doc. Dad's starting to stand and move his legs—unlike before," Edward replied.
"Honestly, I didn't think she'd even suggest reducing some of his medications. Did you know, Edward? She's memorized nearly all of them—especially the high-prescription ones that aren't needed anymore."
Edward summoned Margaret, who arrived with Yaya Ising, now close to her.
"Please sit, Ms. Salazar," Edward said.
"Thank you, sir. Is something wrong?" Margaret asked politely, clearly nervous.
"Tell me—how do you do your job so well?" Edward asked, back turned, holding a glass of wine.
"Sir?" Margaret replied, startled.
"Ms. Salazar, don't be nervous. We just want to confirm what's on your resume," Dr. Gates interjected.
"My dad is the same age as Lord Martin. What happened to him was almost identical to Lord Martin's condition," Margaret explained.
Moments later, someone knocked.
"Come in," Edward said.
"Boss, here's what you asked for," the staff member said, handing over an envelope.
Inside were transcripts and reference letters—proof of Margaret's excellence.
"Exceptional," Edward murmured as he read.
"Wow. You really surprise me, Ms. Margaret Salazar. Grade 1.0? Outstanding! You could be a great doctor someday—maybe even better than me," Dr. Gates praised.
Frances entered again.
"Margaret, Don Martin is asking for you," she said cheerfully.
"Yes, Mrs. Hale," Margaret replied.
"You may go, Margaret. See Daddy now," Edward instructed.
Inside Lord Martin's room
"Did my son scare you, Margaret?" the old man asked with a smile.
"Not really, Lord Martin. He just asked me a few questions," she replied.
"You know, of all the private nurses I've had, you're the only one who makes me feel like I'm being cared for by my own daughter," he said warmly.
"Thank you for your trust, Lord Martin," Margaret replied.
"Tomorrow, let's try the step exercise again, okay? Do you think you can manage?" she asked, helping him to bed.
"Margaret, I can do it. With a daughter-in-law—oops, I mean nurse—as good as you!" he teased.
Once Don Martin fell asleep, Margaret returned to the servants' quarters and found Frances shivering from the cold. She covered her with a blanket and gave her medicine. She stayed up all night watching over her—slowly, she was growing attached to the old woman.
The next morning, in the garden
Margaret prepared the equipment for Lord Martin's exercise, but it was interrupted by Tyra's arrival.
"There she goes again. Thinks she's the wife, but never shows me any respect," Lord Martin muttered.
"Lord Martin, please. Didn't I say anger isn't good for you?" Margaret reminded him.
"I'll drop dead if she ends up marrying my son," he replied, half-joking, half-serious.
"Alright, I'll take you to the study room and have snacks prepared," Margaret said with a smile.
"No need, Margaret. Just take me to the study and tell Edward I want to speak with him," the old man said.
Meanwhile, in France's room, Tyra stormed in.
"My fiancé doesn't pay you to lie around!" she shouted.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am Tyra. I had a fever last night. I'm just recovering…" Frances said weakly.
"So now it's our fault?" Tyra snapped sarcastically.
Margaret overheard the argument and couldn't stand the cruelty. She entered to defend the housekeeper.
"Ma'am Tyra, I'm sorry, but Mrs. Hale really shouldn't be moving yet. Her fever just broke," Margaret said calmly.
"So… you must be the frustrated nurse. Please—mind your own business!" Tyra shouted, yanking the sick woman's arm.
The noise reached Edward. When he entered the room, he saw exactly what Tyra was doing to Frances—the woman who had been like a mother to him.