-HUNTER’S POV-

38)

I tapped my fingers against the desk, skimming through the estate’s daily operations report, but none of the words were registering.

My patience was already razor–thin, and I knew exactly why.

Celine.

She was getting under my skin.

The way she had looked at mest night–steady, unshaken–like she wasn’t afraid of me like she wasn’t intimidated. It was… frustrating.

And I didn’t like feeling this way.

I needed to remind myself why she bwas /bhere. To work. That was it. Nothing more.

So I made a decision. If she bwas /bgoing to work under my roof, she would do so under my rules–no special treatment, no leniency.

That was the only way to handle this.

I breathed out sharply and clicked open the security feed on myptop, scanning the live footage of the main foyer.

And there she was.

On her kneesb, /bscrubbing the floor.

Her hair was tied back, but a few strands had escaped, clinging to her forehead. She moved with precision, her shoulders tense, her hands gripping the brush like she was scrubbing away something far deeper than dirt.

She pushed forward, pressing harder. Too hard.

Like she bwas /bpunishing the floor for something it hadn’t done.

My jaw tightened.

For a moment, she stopped, sitting back on her heels, exhaling slowly. bHer /bfingers reached up to her shoulder, rolling it in small circles, working out a knot.

She was tired.

And yet, she wasn’t stopping. I stared at the bscreen/b, a strange tightness forming in my chest. And then, before I could stop myself, bI /bshut theptop.

Hard.

Thisb–/bwhatever this bwas/b–it needed to end. Because she wasn’t just an employeeb. /bShe wasn’t just anyone. She bwas /bba /bdistraction.

One bI /bcouldn’t afford.

-CELINE’S POV-

b1/4 /b

9:08 pm G bGGG/b.

bв /bbв /bbвв /b

It wasn’t even noon, and I was already running on empty.

Hunter had been ruthless all morning, piling on task after task–ones I knew the other maids weren’t dealing with.

“The table settings in the dining hall are incorrect. Redo them,” he had said earlier, his voice clipped, impersonal.

I had redone them. Three times.

Then came the staircase railings. Polishing, even though they were already shining.

And now?

Now, I was scrubbing the foyer floor on my hands and knees, my arms aching, my fingers raw.

I paused for a second, rolling my shoulder to ease the sharp pull of exhaustion. My body begged me to stop.

But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Not when I knew he was watching. fn7a89 Newest update provided by Find?Novel/fn7a89

“Mommy?”

Caesar’s voice snapped me out of my daze.

I turned to see him standing at the bottom of the staircase, his tiny face scrunched in concern. I forced a smile, ignoring the way my throat tightened.

“What is it, baby?”

He walked closer, his eyes flickering between me and the bucket of soapy water. “You’re working too much.”

I breathed out, sitting back on my heels. “It’s my job, sweetheart.”

His brows pulled together, frustration clear in his little face. “Is the big man being mean again?”

I almost choked on augh. “No, honey. He’s just… particr.”

Caesar didn’t look convinced. And before I could reassure him, his voice cut through the room.

“Caesar.”

A chill danced down my spine. Slowly, I turned.

Hunter stood at the edge of the hallway, hands in his pockets, unreadable eyes locked on my son.

Caesar hesitated, shifting on his feet. “Yeahb?/bb” /b

“You should be at the servant quarter,” Hunter said, his voice steady. Controlled. “Your mother is working.”

Caesar nced at me, searching for an answer I couldn’t give. I nodded, silently telling him to listen.

With a reluctant sigh, he turned and padded back toward bthe /bstairs. Hunter’s gaze flicked back to me then, lingering. Heavy.

I held my breath. And then-

“Your break is over,” he said simply, before walking away like he hadn’t just turned my entire morning inside out.

bI /bexhaled, my hands curling into fists. I had never met a man so infuriating.

b2/4 /b

9:08 pm bG /bbGGG /b

And yet, here I wasb, /bscrubbing his damn floors like he hadn’t just gotten under my skin all over again.

-HUNTER’S POV-

I had expected her toin.

I had expected her to slip up, to make an excuse–any excuse–that would prove she wasn’t cut out for this job.

But no matter how hard I pushed, she didn’t break.

And I hated that I was starting to notice.

Byte afternoon, I found myself standing in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, watching as she knelt in front of Caesar, helping him button his tiny shirt.

“There,” she said softly, smoothing the fabric over his chest. “Now you look very handsome.”

Caesar grinned, his dimples deep. I clenched my jaw. “He can dress himself.”

Celine turned, her brows pulling together. “He asked for help.”

“He needs to be independent.”

ow breath, shaking her head. “He’s “three*.”

bSir/bb. /b

dn’t have a response.

od, brushing dust from the hem of her dress, before looking me straight in the eye. “Is there a problem, b*/bsir*?”

The word sounded unnaturaling from her. Like she was forcing herself to say it. Like she hated the way it felt on her

tongue.

I stepped closer, closing the space between us, watching her carefully. Testing her.

“You tell me,” I murmured. “Are you struggling with the workload?”

Her lips parted slightly like she was trying to read between the lines of my question.

Then, her expression hardened. “No.”

“Are you sure?” My voice dipped lower, intentionally. “Because if you *can’t handle this job, you should leave now.b” /b

Her breath hitched. For the tiniest second, she hesitated. But then- She lifted her chin, fire sparking in her eyes.

“Not a chanceb./b”

Something sharp and unexpected cut through my chest.

I exhaled slowly, letting the corner of my mouth tilt upward.

Good.

b3/4 /b

9:08 pm bB /b

She was stronger than I thought.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one.

7

38

bAD /b