Chapter Two
1150 Words
Mama Grace stepped forward, her posture straight despite the suffocating tension in the room. Years of serving the Cole family had taught her how to keep her face calm even when her heart raced.
“I set the table, sir,” she said respectfully.
Adrian’s cold gaze lingered on her a second longer than necessary, as if weighing her worth. Then he gave a low, dismissive hum.
“Hmm.”
The tension in the room eased by a fraction, but no one dared relax.
He moved to the head of the table with deliberate grace, adjusting his cufflinks.
Everything was exactly as he demanded.
plates perfectly aligned, silverware gleaming, crystal glasses spotless.
He sat down like a king claiming his throne.
A young maid hurried forward to pour his water. Her hands trembled so badly the glass clinked against the rim.
“Steady,” Adrian said flatly, without even looking at her.
“Y-yes, sir,” the girl whispered, mortified.
Mama Grace shot her a warning glance.
Adrian picked up his fork, then paused.
“Where is the chef?”
The question sliced through the silence like a blade.
One of the maids swallowed hard. “In the kitchen, sir.”
“Call him.”
The girl practically ran from the room.
Adrian turned his attention back to Mama Grace.
“You’ve been here a long time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you should know better.”
A fresh wave of chill swept through the dining hall. Mama Grace didn’t flinch.
“If there’s any mistake, sir, I will correct it immediately.”
The corner of Adrian’s lips twitched, not quite a smile, but close enough to shock everyone present.
“See that you do.”
The chef burst in moments later, red-faced and nervous, wiping his hands on his apron.
“Sir…”
“Serve the food.”
Dish after dish was placed before Adrian like offerings before a god.
He took his first bite while the entire staff remained standing in perfect silence, barely breathing.
In this house, his mood could mean reward…
or complete ruin.
Meanwhile, across the city…
The small dining table in the cramped apartment felt even smaller tonight.
Elsa pushed the rice around her plate, her appetite long gone. The silence was thick, broken only by the sound of cutlery scraping against cheap ceramic.
“I got a response from another company today,” she said quietly, forcing hope into her voice. “They’re looking for an administrative assistant. It’s not confirmed, but…”
Mike let out a mocking scoff that made her flinch.
“At least they replied,” Elsa added softly.
Mike leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
“So when exactly is your stay going to end?”
The words landed like a slap.
Sarah’s head snapped up. “Mike…”
“No, I’m serious,” he cut in, voice rising.
“How long do we have to keep feeding and housing a grown woman who contributes nothing? I want my house back. I want privacy with my wife.”
Elsa stared at her plate, her grip tightening around the fork until her knuckles turned white.
“I’m trying,” she whispered.
“Trying?” Mike laughed coldly. “You’ve been ‘trying’ for two whole years, Elsa. When are you going to stop being a burden?”
Each word carved deeper into her chest.
Sarah shifted uncomfortably. “She just said she got a response….”
“A response doesn’t pay the rent!” Mike snapped. “Food isn’t free. Electricity isn’t free. Stop acting like this is a hotel!”
Elsa’s throat burned. “I buy some things too…”
Mike gave her a look of pure disgust. “Bread and sachet water? That’s your contribution? Pathetic.”
“That’s enough!” Sarah stood up slightly, one hand on her belly.
“No, it’s not enough,” Mike growled, rising from his seat. “She’s comfortable here. That’s the problem.”
Elsa finally lifted her head, eyes glistening but voice steady.
“I’m not comfortable.”
“Then leave.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Mike grabbed his keys. “I’m going out. At least outside I can breathe without carrying dead weight.”
The door slammed behind him.
Sarah sank back into her chair with a heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, Elsa.”
Elsa forced a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Sarah said gently. “He’s just stressed because of the baby and money… but that doesn’t excuse how he speaks to you.”
Elsa looked down. The sting in her chest refused to leave.
“You know you’re not a burden to me, right?” Sarah asked.
Elsa’s throat tightened. “But I am to him.”
Sarah opened her mouth… then closed it.
The silence was answer enough.
“I just need a little more time,” Elsa whispered. “I’ll get the job. I have to.”
Sarah reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’re strong, Elsa. You’ve always been the strong one.”
Elsa nodded, but inside she felt like she was breaking.
Later that night…
Elsa lay on the worn-out couch that served as her bed, scrolling through job emails on her old laptop. Nothing. Again.
She exhaled slowly, exhaustion weighing on her like stones.
Then she heard it.
Soft at first. Then rhythmic. Unmistakable moans filtering through the thin walls.
Elsa’s face twisted in disgust and embarrassment. She turned to the other side and pressed the pillow over her head, but it was useless. The walls were paper-thin.
Every moan. Every creak of the bed. Every gasp.
Her chest tightened with humiliation.
This is not my home, she thought bitterly. I’m just a ghost they tolerate.
The sounds grew louder. More intense.
“That’s it,” she muttered, sitting up abruptly. “I can’t do this anymore.”
She grabbed her small bag, not even bothering to change out of her clothes, and slipped out of the apartment as quietly as she could.
As she reached the door, she heard Mike’s voice through the wall, careless and loud:
“This is my house. I’m not going to tiptoe around because of her.”
Elsa paused, the words slicing through her like a knife.
She stepped into the cool night air, arms wrapped around herself, and started walking with no destination in mind.
Just away.
Away from the humiliation.
Away from the constant reminder that she didn’t belong.
Away from the life that was slowly suffocating her.
The empty street stretched before her, quiet and indifferent.
She had no idea where she was going.
She didn’t care.
What she didn’t know was that this single, desperate decision, walking out into the night would change the entire course of her life.
- Writer
