Toxic Seduction

When William returns home after a long day of social engagements, he doesn’t find his wife—Crystal. She is probably hiding somewhere drinking again, he guesses. He walks into the greenhouse at home, greeted by a sea of white and purple mandrakes. He frowns slightly. Crystal loves roses. She never involves herself in the hiring of household staff, except for the florist, whom she personally interviews and selects. Sure enough, Crystal is in the garden, leisurely applying skincare products while wearing a bathrobe. An empty wine glass sits on the table beside her. "You’re back," Crystal says, noticing William. She seems to sense his confusion and smiles. "Auntie introduced me to a new florist. She manages to make me fall in love with these flowers. And since I needed a new maid to take care of me, I decided to hire her." As William listens, his gaze drifts to the person standing nearby. She has long legs, a slender waist, and strands of hair stick to her slightly flushed cheeks, damp with sweat. "What’s her name?" William asks. "Aria," Crystal replies. "It’s strange that you take an interest in a maid." "Well, she’s here to take care of you. And since you’re pregnant, we need to be extra careful about who’s around you." Crystal feigns shyness and stands up, wrapping her arms around William. There is no love between them—their marriage is purely a business arrangement between their families. But at least William is handsome, and she is beautiful enough to make everyone adore her. "Hmmm," Aria lets out a soft sound, almost like a kitten’s purr. She looks at her wrist, scratched by a rose thorn, annoyed at herself for making such a careless mistake. When she glances up, she meets William’s scrutinizing gaze. Her beautiful eyes are filled with tears, as if the pain is unbearable. She is clearly trying to appear innocent and pitiful, William thinks. And she succeeds. But he has seen too many women try to seduce him with such cheap tactics. It means nothing to him. William drapes a cloak over Crystal, reminding her not to catch a cold, and then retreats to his study. That night, William is reading in the courtyard when the maid walks by, carrying freshly dried towels. Her footsteps are light, but just loud enough for him to hear. "Stop," he says. "Are you talking to me?" she asks. William stares at her, not repeating himself. Aria places the towels on a nearby chair and slowly walks over to William, keeping her head down, not daring to meet his eyes. "Name." "Aria." "Age." "24." "Did you work as a maid at Crystal’s aunt’s house before?" "Yes." William doesn’t really need to ask these questions. He has already reviewed her detailed background information. She is an orphan with no family, but her skills are impeccable, which is why his wife hires her. William leans back in his soft chair and says, "Come here and massage my legs." "But Madam just calls for me," Aria replies. William doesn’t like repeating himself. He simply looks up at her again. Aria kneels beside the chair and begins to massage his legs. She applies little pressure, but in her mind, she wishes she could snap his leg in two. She has no family now, but she once did. She had a father and mother who loved her dearly. They ran a small company, and while they weren’t extremely wealthy, they provided her with a happy childhood. Later, she had wonderful foster parents. During that time, she gained an older sister and brother who treated her so well that they helped her heal from the pain of losing her parents. But all of that vanished when she was 16. She hates the person responsible for it all—Crystal, and the scum of the elite upper class. Her thoughts are interrupted when a cup of tea is suddenly thrown at her. She instinctively apologizes, looking down at the water dripping from her neck into her collar, some of it splashing onto William’s loungewear. William looks at Aria, now drenched and disheveled, and feels quite pleased with himself. "Lick it clean," he says. Milk splashes not just on William's trousers but also across the top of his feet. Aria visibly freezes for a second before dropping to her knees and leaning cautiously toward his foot. William instantly loses interest - things gained too easily hold no value. Just as he considers kicking Aria aside, another voice cuts through the air: "Aria! What are you doing here? Madam's awake and asking for you!" The speaker is Sebrina, the assistant housekeeper who oversees all female staff. The dim lighting and potted plants block her view of William, leaving only the sight of Aria kneeling mysteriously on the floor. Fury rises in her chest - how dare this new maid shirk her duties after barely a week of employment? "Do you want to keep working here or not?" she snaps, striding forward. "You—" Her words die when she finally notices William on the sofa, her voice shrinking to a murmur. "Oh, you're here too," she says with a plastic smile. "This new maid made a mistake. I was disciplining her for you," William states, not moving from his chair. His gaze lingers on Aria's exposed neck - pale as a swan's, creating a delicious contrast with her submissive posture. The sight pleases him. "She's learned her lesson now. Take her away." Sebrina has served this household for over a decade. She knows William's true nature - that velvet voice masking a tyrant who tolerates no defiance. At least ten maids have been dismissed for displeasing him. She prods Aria up with her foot. Only in proper lighting does Sebrina notice the milk staining Aria's blouse and hair. Physical punishment? Not that she cares. "Change your clothes," she says icily. Bring Madam fresh milk. Now." Without time for a proper wash, Aria scrubs her face and tucks her damp hair under her cap before hurrying to Crystal's suite. The vast bedroom glows only by the amber bedside lamp where Crystal sits listening to prenatal music. "Where were you?" she asks languidly. "My apologies, Madam. I tripped on the stairs," Aria answers carefully. "It won't happen again." Anger twists Crystal's beautiful features. "Your sole purpose is attending to me. Even with broken bones, you crawl here immediately to explain yourself." Yes, Aria thinks, this is the real Crystal - a viper wrapped in exquisite skin, far more poisonous than beautiful. And soon, very soon, she'll make her pay. As Aria stands frozen, Crystal commands, "Massage me." "Your milk, Madam. Your aunt mentioned your nightly routine." Aria sets down the glass and begins kneading Crystal's calves. The skilled hands work their magic. Though not tired moments before, Crystal soon drifts toward sleep under the soothing motions. Aria tucks her in, switches off the light, and pauses at the threshold. In the darkness, a glacial smile flickers across her face. Sleep well, she thinks. Such peaceful nights won't last much longer. Sixteen years hunting this woman and seven years for her husband. How perfectly ironic that fate wedded her two greatest enemies. God must have seen her suffering and granted this opportunity. Now, she is the executioner.