Laurel P.O.V
I left the dining room with my head lowered, but my mind refused to follow.
It stayed behind,trapped in the Don's voice, in his threats, in the way Abigail was dragged away like her life meant nothing. Every step I took through the penthouse felt heavier than the last, like the floor itself was reminding me.
You don't belong here.
You're owned here.
I tried to think.
Tried to find a way out.
But every plan I started building collapsed halfway through. Escape from the Don? That wasn't escape,it was suicide with extra steps.
Still…I couldn't stop thinking.
About Abigail.
About the way she stood in front of me without hesitation.
About how she offered her life like it was nothing.
I walked,but my mind wasn't with me.
My chest tightened,racing ahead.Desperate and searching for a way out of this mess.
And then my mind betrayed me again,dragging me back to my girls.
Ontario.
Laughter. Money. Carefree nights. Luxury that felt earned.
Now they were in jail.
And I was here.
A maid.
A prisoner dressed in silk.
—
"Move faster"
The sharp voice snapped me back,cutting through my thoughts like a blade.
One of the senior maids shoved a tray into my hands, her eyes cold, almost...intentional.
Like she knew.
Like everyone knew.
"Hey! Wash the dishes" She ordered.
No eye contact.No hesitation.
I nodded quickly and moved.Because hesitation here felt like a mistake I couldn't afford.
"Take this to the west lounge.And don't spill it"
"Do the laundry"
"Clean the livingroom"
"Clean the glass"
"Arrange the kitchen"
"Check for expired food ingredients at the store room"
The tasks didn't stop.
Cleaning. Carrying. Scrubbing. Organizing. Running errands across rooms bigger than my entire old apartment.
It wasn't normal work.
It was punishment.
By midday, my hands were aching.
The work didn't stop,it only grew.
By evening, my legs were trembling.
Cleaning.
Carrying.
Wiping.
Arranging.
Again and again and again.
The same tasks repeated until they stopped feeling like tasks and started feeling like punishment.
Because that's exactly what it was.
By nightfall, I was barely standing.
And deep down, I knew—
This wasn't coincidence.
The Don had ordered this.
He wanted me tired. Weak. Broken.
Easy to control.
—
When they finally dismissed us, I followed the others down a long hallway into what they called the maids' quarters.
I felt empty like something inside me had been drained out completely.
A large door opened.
And I froze.
The maids' room was not what I expected.
The room was…beautiful.
Not in a warm way.
In a cold, controlled, calculated way.
The room was wide, stretching farther than it should have.Rows of bunk beds stretched across the room, neatly arranged in perfect lines. Each bed had soft, expensive sheets,far too luxurious for servants. The lighting was dim but golden, casting soft shadows across polished floors that reflected every movement.
Closets stood against the walls,each labeled with numbers instead of names.
No identity.
Just roles.
Just numbers.
Voices filled the room,low conversations, tired sighs, soft footsteps. It was crowded, but not chaotic. Everything felt…monitored.
A woman approached me, her expression unreadable.
"You're new" She said simply, pointing. "Bed over there"
Then she added, "Closet twenty-six. Everything you need is inside"
That was it.
No welcome.
No curiosity.
Just instructions.
I nodded slowly and walked toward the closet.
Number 26.
I stared at it for a second before opening it.
Inside were neatly folded clothes,simple, elegant and identical to what the others wore. Shoes were aligned perfectly below. Towels stacked like they had never been touched.
It didn't feel like a closet.
It felt like a uniform station.
Like I had just been assigned a new identity.
I swallowed hard and took one of the towels, my fingers lingering on the soft fabric.
Even the comfort here felt like control.
The bathroom was quiet when I entered.
Too quiet.
But I didn't care.
I needed the water.
I needed to feel something other than fear.
I stripped quickly and stepped under the shower. The warm water hit my skin, washing away the sweat, the exhaustion…but not the tension.
Nothing could wash that away.
Not here.
Not ever.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
Time didn't feel real anymore.
When I stepped out and wrapped the towel around my body, something felt off.
The noise outside was gone.
Completely gone.
No voices.
No footsteps.
Nothing.
My breath slowed.
Carefully, I moved toward the door and opened it just a little.
And froze.
He was there.
One of the Dons from earlier.
Standing in the middle of the room.
He was still and silent.
Staring at a painting of a beach on the wall like it meant something only he could understand.
My heart dropped.
I looked around quickly.
There was no maids.
No movement.
No witnesses.
He cleared the room.
I shut the door quietly and pressed my back against it, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it.
"Why is he here…?" I whispered to myself.
Fear crept up my spine slowly.I didn't move.Didn't breathe too loudly.
I just waited,hoping he would leave.
Then i heard footsteps approaching the bathroom door.
My head snapped toward the door.
A woman's voice pop up in a soft mutter. "Let's break up!"
"Our relationship can't work out" The Don's voice drew closer.
My breath caught.
The footsteps stopped right outside the bathroom door.
Silence followed.
"What if someone finds out?" The woman whispered.
I didn't think.
I slipped behind the bathroom curtain, pressing myself into the corner, barely daring to breathe.
"I miss you" He said.
The footsteps shifted,slowly fading away.
Then softer like bodies moving toward each other.
"If the other Don finds out about me" The woman continued, her voice trembling, "there will be a problem…I'll get killed by your enemies"
My heart pounded.
Enemies?
Don?
This wasn't just secret.
This was dangerous.
"Don't worry about the baby? I shall abort him"
Then it hit me like a slap.
She was pregnant.
The way she spoke. The fear. The urgency.
My mind started racing.
This…this is leverage.
"Racheal! I will never break up with you"
I slowly leaned forward, just enough to peek through the small gap.
And I saw her.
Racheal.
One of the maids.
But not just a maid.
Not anymore.
She stood close to him, her hands resting on his chest, her face soft in a way I hadn't seen before.
They kissed.
Like nothing else in the world existed.
Like there was no danger.
No consequences.
"Marco…" She whispered.
Marco.
So that was his name.
"Why don't you want me to leave Alpha's home?" She asked softly.
"As long as you're here" He replied, his voice steady, "you're safe"
Safe.
I almost laughed.
No one here was safe.
Not even him.
Not anymore.
I leaned back slowly, my mind spinning.
A Don.
A secret lover.
A hidden pregnancy.
A weakness.
And in this world—
Weaknesses get exploited.
Or destroyed.
I swallowed hard and whispered under my breath, "You are not safe anymore…"
My fingers tightened around the towel.
"I'll be the threat"
Just then,a knock on the door interrupted.
"Alpha is on his way here" A maid's voice called.
Racheal pulled away instantly, panic flashing across her face.
Marco stepped back, adjusting himself like nothing had happened.
"Meet me at the rooftop before tomorrow noon" He said quickly. "Our usual time"
She nodded.
Then kissed him again, faster this time.
He left.
She stayed.
And just like that...
She became a maid again.
Innocent.
Untouchable.
Hidden.
The room slowly filled again.
Voices returned.
Life resumed.
Like nothing happened.
Like secrets weren't just buried in plain sight.
I slipped out of the bathroom quietly, blending in like I had always been there.
Like I hadn't just uncovered something that could destroy everything.
I dressed slowly, my mind was far away.
Marco.
Racheal.
The rooftop.
Tomorrow.
An opportunity.
A risk.
A weapon.
That night, I lay on my assigned bed, staring at the ceiling.
Sleep didn't come.
It couldn't.
Not with everything running through my head.
Abigail.
The Don.
Marco.
Escape.
For the first time since I got here…
I wasn't just afraid.
I was planning.
And that scared me more than anything.
Because in this world—
The moment you start playing their game…
You either win.
Or you disappear.