Evenings at the Steele mansion had a quiet elegance to them.
By the time the sun dipped low and the sky began to soften into shades of gold and blue, the house slowed. Staff moved with less urgency. Voices lowered. The kind of calm that settled after a long day wrapped the estate like a familiar blanket
Mia felt it too.
She stood near the staircase, tugging lightly at the hem of her sweater while tying her hair back into a loose knot. She had changed out of her work clothes into something simple.blue jeans. A soft sweater. Sneakers that had seen better days. Nothing that marked her as staff. Nothing that drew attention. Just herself.
She liked moments like this. Moments when she could step out of the role she played during the day and just exist.
Margaret glanced up from the small notebook she always seemed to carry with her. "You are heading out?"
"Yes," Mia said. "Just for a walk. I need some air."
Margaret studied her for a second, then nodded. "That is good. Before you return, could you help me pick up a few things?"
"Of course."
She rattled them off. Nothing related to the kitchen. Personal items. Mundane things. Mia committed them to memory easily.
As she reached for the door, Margaret added gently, "Do not rush back. Just take your time."
Mia smiled, warmth spreading in her chest. "Thank you."
The heavy doors closed behind her, and she stepped into the cool evening air.
Alexander Steele had already left the house.
He had used the private elevator, the one that bypassed staff corridors and cameras. He told himself it was about privacy, but deep down, he knew it was nerves. He had not felt this unsettled in years.
He stood a short distance away from the estate, leaning against a parked car he did not recognize, hands buried deep in the pockets of jeans that felt foreign on his body. He rarely wore them. Suits were his armor. Casual clothes made him feel exposed.
Ethan's voice echoed faintly in his mind from the day before.Casual does not mean miserable. Normal people do not dress like beggars.
Alex had compromised.
A plain jacket. A neutral shirt. Sneakers that did not cost more than a month's rent.
He breathed out slowly.
Name. Job. Background.
Nathaniel. Real estate. Recently moved.
He had rehearsed it over and over again while staring at his reflection, convincing himself that it would be easy. That he could play this role for an hour or two.
Then he saw her.
Mia walked down the street with unhurried steps, shoulders relaxed, eyes drifting over storefronts and passing cars like she belonged to the evening itself. There was something disarming about how natural she looked outside the mansion. Inside, she was careful, respectful, always aware of her place. Out here, she looked lighter.
Alex straightened instinctively.
His heart thudded.
He almost let her pass.
Almost.
Then something inside him shifted, and he turned back, taking a breath that felt too shallow.
"Excuse me."
Mia slowed and turned. Her gaze flicked to him, assessing but calm.
"Yes?"
"I was hoping you could help me," he said, surprised at how steady his voice sounded. "I am looking for a place nearby."
"Which place?"
He named the exact store Margaret had sent her to.
Her lips curved into a small smile. "That is where I am going."
Relief washed through him so fast it almost made him dizzy.
"That is lucky," he said. "Would you mind if I walked with you?"
She hesitated only briefly. "I do not mind."
They fell into step together.
For a moment, neither spoke. Alex became painfully aware of everything. The rhythm of her footsteps. The way the breeze lifted loose strands of her hair. The faint scent of soap and something floral, clean and understated.
He had planned to be charming.
Instead, his mind went blank.
"You look like someone who gets lost even when you know where you are going," Mia said suddenly, her tone light.
He laughed quietly. "Is it that obvious?"
"A little."
"I am not very good at this."
"At what?"
"Talking to people," he admitted.
She smiled, easing the tightness in his chest. "You are doing fine."
Encouraged, he tried again. "Do you live around here?"
"Yes. Not far."
"And you?" she asked.
"Not far either," he replied vaguely.
"What do you do?"
"I work," he said, then corrected himself. "I mean… I am a plumber."
She nodded like that made perfect sense. "That sounds tiring."
"It can be," he agreed.
They walked for a bit before he asked, "You don't mind telling me what your own job is,do you?"
"umm,am a chef"mia replied.
"That must be intense."
"It is," she said. "But I like creating things. Feeding people."
"Where do you work?"
"At the Steele mansion."
His heart skipped, but he kept his face neutral.
"That place?" he said. "The one everyone whispers about?"
She laughed softly. "Yes. That one."
"What is it like?"
"Quiet. Strict. Beautiful."
"And your boss?"
Her smile remained, but her tone shifted. "I do not discuss my work or my employer outside of work."
Alex nodded, impressed. "Fair."
They reached the store, and Mia moved with familiarity, greeting the cashier, collecting the items with ease. When she turned back to him, her brow lifted.
"You said you needed something too."
Alex froze.
He had forgotten that part.
"Yes," he said, then hesitated. "Actually… I think they do not have what I need."
She looked amused, not suspicious. "Alright."
On the walk back, silence stretched between them, comfortable now. Alex felt time slipping through his fingers.
"I am Grayson ," he blurted suddenly. "I am a plumber." damn ,he's supposed to be Nathaniel,a real estate agent.
The lie surprised even him.
"Mia," she replied easily.
"Mia," he repeated, like he wanted to remember the sound.
They talked more freely after that. About the city. About little things. He found himself laughing more than he had in months.
When they neared the Steele estate, Mia slowed.
"This is where I turn."
Something in his chest tightened.
"Will I see you again?" he asked.
She met his gaze. "If we do, we do."
She smiled once and walked away.
Alex stood there long after the gates closed, knowing one thing.
This was only the beginning.