Sweet Promotion.

Chapter 2

Janet Delery was a thirty-seven-year-old woman, beautiful and extravagant. Her youth seemed untouched, and many envied her for maintaining the very beauty that had twice crowned her Miss Universe. To her allure was added the fortune she had amassed and her marriage to Richard Delery, a distinguished judge. Her life was wealthy, worthy of a magazine spread. She owns a mansion with ten bedrooms, three kitchens, seven bathrooms, a vast front garden with two fountains, three cars, and a convertible Porsche.

Seems that she does not want anything else.

Samantha, on the other hand, was twenty-six and lived a life that could not have been more different. She had moved to the city with her boyfriend, but they were barely surviving. After a fire destroyed their old apartment, they had lost everything. Desperate, they tried different jobs, but nothing seemed to work out. Then someone suggested an interesting, well-paid job.

Her boyfriend found the idea exhausting. He didn’t want to see her crushed by that kind of work. Yet necessity weighed more heavily than his pleas, and Samantha decided to attend an interview at the mansion of the dazzling Janet Delery. What she did not imagine was the lustful secret awaiting her behind those doors.

The smoke still clung to her memories. Samantha had watched as flames devoured their small apartment, the little corner she had shared with Frank, her boyfriend of three years. They had barely escaped with the clothes. Everything else, photos, furniture was reduced to ashes.

Since then, life has been an uphill battle. They had moved into a cheap, damp, and cramped room where the paint peeled from the walls and the pipes groaned every time a faucet was turned on. Samantha tried to convince herself it was only temporary, but every morning she woke with a knot in her stomach. The debts piled up, and money slipped through her hands like water.

“We’ll find something,” Frank kept repeating, though his voice lacked the firmness to make it believable. “You don’t have to accept just anything.”

But “just anything” was all that ever seemed to show up. Samantha had tried interviews at cafés, clothing stores, even a supermarket, but every door had closed in her face. Desperation began to eat away at the calm she once carried with her.

One afternoon, after yet another failed interview, Samantha wandered into the neighborhood supermarket, her head filled with bills that didn’t add up. She pushed the cart aimlessly when suddenly she heard a familiar voice.

“Sam!” exclaimed Clara, an old high school friend, while placing some boxes in her own cart. “It’s been forever!”

Samantha managed a weak smile. She didn’t have the energy to fake excitement, but Clara’s warmth felt like a breath of fresh air in the middle of so much uncertainty. They chatted for a few minutes, and reluctantly, Sam told her about the fire, inevitably bringing up the subject that weighed most heavily on her. Work.

“The truth is... I’m looking everywhere, and I can’t find anything,” she admitted, lowering her gaze. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.”

Clara studied her quietly before leaning in, as if about to share a secret.

“Well... I might know someone who’s looking for staff. A lady... Janet Delery. Do you know her?”

“No,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s... well, famous. She used to be a model, won beauty pageants, and now she is retired in this enormous mansion. She’s always hiring girls for cleaning, cooking, things like that. And she pays really well, much more than any café would.”

Sam’s eyes lit with a spark of hope, but Clara quickly added.

“Although...”

“I know... she must be crazy.”

Clara lowered her voice.

“Mmh... People say she’s difficult. No employee ever lasts. Rumor has it she fires them at the slightest thing and that she's harsh.”

Samantha felt her stomach twist.

“Harsh? I think I can put up with a little of that.” She tried to sound playful, though Clara’s disapproving look said otherwise.

“Maybe. You know how rumors are. Still... everyone agrees on one thing. She pays well. Very well.”

Sam stayed quiet for a moment, weighing the idea. The word “harsh” unsettled her, but it wasn’t what troubled her most. What gnawed at her was the thought of being dismissed right away. Yet the echo of “very good pay” rang louder. The image of her burned apartment and the crushing debts pressed against her chest.

“Do you have the address?” she finally asked in a low voice, almost as if speaking to herself.

Clara looked at her with a mix of worry and complicity.

“Just... be careful, Sam.”

Samantha nodded, unaware that by accepting that advice she was about to open the door to a fascinating world.

That night, in their small, peeling room, Sam told Frank what Clara had suggested.

“A maid?” Frank repeated, frowning as if the word itself left a bad taste. “Sam, that job is exhausting. They’ll exploit you. I don’t want to see you worn down like that.”

“We don’t have a choice,” she replied, her voice tired but resolute. “The money isn’t enough, Frank. We can’t keep living like this.”

He sighed, leaning his head against the cracked wall.

“We’ll find something else. Some good cars came into the shop today, you know? I’ll make decent money from that, I promise.”

Samantha looked at him with tenderness and sorrow.

“I know, honey. I trust you. But we have to be realistic. Yes, cars came in today... but what about next month? Or the one after? We can’t depend on accidents and expensive repairs to survive.”

Frank pressed his lips together. He didn’t like hearing it, but deep down he knew she was right.

“Sam... I don’t want you to carry such a heavy burden. I want to protect you.”

“And I want to help you,” she answered, taking his hands. “We have bills to pay... I can’t leave it all on you. If I don’t do something now, this will drag us both under.”

Silence filled the room. Only the hum of cars outside and the dripping faucet in the bathroom broke it. Sam lay down beside him, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Her mind was made up, even if Frank didn’t like it.

Samantha would go to the mansion of the dazzling Janet Delery. What she didn’t imagine was the lustful secret that awaited her behind those doors.

The taxi stopped before a wrought-iron gate so tall it looked as if it guarded a palace. After she announced herself, the gates creaked open slowly, solemnly. The path was framed by trees trimmed with surgical precision and a garden that could have belonged on a postcard. Two fountains poured crystal-clear water, glittering under the afternoon light.

Sam swallowed hard. The contrast with her own life was so brutal it made her feel small. She adjusted the borrowed jacket she wore. She had chosen jeans, tall brown boots, and a white blouse under a brown jacket, hoping the outfit might at least make her look somewhat presentable. But as she walked, she began to doubt it.

At the entrance, a woman in her forties opened the door with a brief bow. The interior was even more breathtaking. White marble floors, walls adorned with classical paintings, a central sculpture surrounded by a sweeping staircase, and crystal chandeliers that lit every corner. The air smelled of fresh flowers.

“Please wait here,” the woman instructed, guiding her into a wide salon decorated with red velvet armchairs and a lit fireplace, though the air was warm. To one side, large windows let in sunlight and framed the beauty of the garden, where gardeners moved carefully, watering and pruning with precision.

Samantha sat on the edge of an armchair, uneasy. Her eyes darted around, afraid to move too much and break something. Then footsteps echoed against the floor, and two doors opened wide.

Janet Delery entered with the confidence of someone who owns the place—and she did. She wore a white satin dress and a fur coat that highlighted her elegance. Her face, flawlessly made up, glowed with red lips and long lashes framing extraordinary green eyes. Her hair, half-pinned, fell in neat strands at the sides of her face, accentuating the perfection of her features.

Samantha’s gaze began at the ground, almost without realizing it. Her eyes traced the delicate line of Janet’s high heels, moved up her toned legs, paused at the curve of her waist, and lingered on the elegant outline of her chest. The ascent was slow, reverent, until at last she reached her face.

And then the air caught in her lungs. She had never seen a beauty like this. The woman had features so perfect they seemed unreal, as if she didn’t belong to the ordinary world. A goddess? An angel? Samantha didn’t know—only that her presence completely unraveled her.

Janet smiled—a small, calculated smile that was enough to ignite a fire in Sam’s chest. Her heart thundered wildly, as if it wanted to escape her body. Mrs. Delery advanced calmly, each step measured yet charged with a magnetic authority that filled the room. Her eyes scanned Sam from head to toe with the same deliberate care, and that gaze—cold yet curious—sent a shiver down her spine.

Clumsy and nervous, Samantha scrambled to her feet, trying to recover the dignity she felt she’d left on the sofa. But the blush on her cheeks and the trembling in her hands betrayed her completely.

“So, you’re Samantha...” Janet’s voice was melodic, laced with a commanding confidence. “A pleasure. I’m Janet.”

Sam thought her voice was as beautiful as she was.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Delery,” she said, raising her slightly sweaty hand.

Janet did not shake it. Instead, she took her fingers gently, holding them longer than necessary, as if testing her reaction. A spark of discomfort shot through Sam, but along with it came something else... something she could not yet name.

“Call me Janet,” she corrected, still not letting go. “Here, formalities are unnecessary.” And as she spoke, her eyes glimmered with an interest that had nothing to do with work.