Beneath His Sheets

Twelve

Grace is counting down the days of her first day of school, she feels both excited and nervous. Finally stepping out in the real world after working for her family. But she was never resentful, she may have felt a little angry towards her Dad, but never her Mom. Her mom loved her enough to be both parents.

Kate took the day off, so she was assigned to Damien once again, but since there's a new maid she just needs to put Damiens clothes and sheets, the cleaning and other things will be assigned to Rina, the new maid.

Grace froze when she found them a little too close together, she thought that he will be in his home office and Rina will be in his closet. Rina's face are way too close on his as she pours painfully slow his water. Damien body stiffen when he saw Grace by the door eyeing the whole thing.

"That's enough." Damien said making Rina stop and stay a few steps away.

Grace didn't react and continue her work confusing Damien, making something inside him twists. Did she think there's something between him and Rina? He thought. Damien want to stop her from what she's doing and explain the whole thing. But he didn't instead he stares at her, longer and intensely as she change his un touched sheet, by untouched meaning he's the only one that's been in there for weeks now.

"Rina, could you excuse us for a moment?"

Rina's expression were confused, why would his boss needs some time alone with another maid? But without any power to protest she nodded, without brushing her hands on his arms first. Even that move was witnessed by Grace making Damien annoyed more.

Damien doesn't know what to say, he wants her to say something first, so he just stares at her watching her every move. how she fixes her bed neatly and with precision. He suddenly felt kind of a jerk since she does this everyday and he leaves them dishelved also everyday.

After she's done with his bed she immdiately moved on to arranging his clothes for today, walking inside his walk in closet. Damien followed her, perfect no where to run.

Grace looked up at him calmly, masking the small spike of panic in her chest.

"Do you need anything, sir? I can leave if you want."

Silence.

Damien didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared at her like he was waiting for something she refused to give.

She took a small breath.

"Then if you don't mind, I’ll finish my task and be on my way."

Her tone was professional—too professional. And he hated it. Hated how she brushed off what he knew mattered, even if he didn’t know why. He only knew he didn’t like being misunderstood by her.

"What did you see?" he finally asked.

"Nothing unusual," she replied coolly. "Just women being drawn to you naturally."

Damien let out a low, frustrated groan.

"It's nothing."

"That's what I said… sir."

The way she said it—sir—cleanly, formally, painfully distant, flicked something sharp in Damien’s chest. A line drawn. A line he didn’t know he wasn’t supposed to cross until she made one.

"Don't call me that."

Grace raised a brow. "Why not? You are my boss."

That hit him harder than any argument could. Because she wasn’t wrong—and yet he hated hearing it.

She turned away before he could find the words he needed. She walked out with her chin held high, though something inside her pinched at the sight of Rina and Damien earlier. A feeling she refused to name.

Grace counted down the days to her first day of school. Ten days turned to five. Five to two. And now—finally—today.

Her first day.

She was practically skipping toward the door, clutching her bag, humming under her breath. Damien watched from his balcony, leaning on his railing as he sipped his coffee. He didn’t realize he was smiling until he felt the tug on his lips.

She looked… happy. Light. Glowing.

And she actually followed his instruction about taking a driver. That pleased him more than it should.

At the university, students swarmed everywhere. Grace felt her hands shake slightly. It had been years since she made new friends. College students were more mature than high school snobs… right?

"Hey!" someone called.

She turned to see a tall guy with curly hair and the softest smile she had ever seen. "You look lost. Freshman?"

"Yeah," Grace said shyly. "I’m here for orientation."

"Me too!" he beamed. “I’m Cian.”

“Grace.”

"Lovely name," he said without hesitation. “Suits you.”

Her cheeks warmed.

“Lead the way.”

They entered the theater just as the crowd thickened. Cian pointed to two empty seats.

“There! Perfect view.”

Cian was… hyper. Golden-retriever energy, talkative, cheerful, endlessly curious. Grace found herself liking it. She hadn’t made a friend in so long that it felt nice, refreshing, almost healing.

She tried focusing on the Dean’s speech, but the bright light from a girl’s phone beside her kept catching her attention. She leaned in to politely ask her to dim it—but then she saw what was on the screen.

Damien.

His arm wrapped around a model as they left a bar—their bar. The same place he kissed her the first time.

Grace’s body heated. She didn’t know if it was anger or embarrassment or the memory of his hands on her waist—but something in her twisted.

Cian leaned over and gently told the girl that everyone could see her screen. The girl rolled her eyes and finally turned her phone off.

Orientation continued. Cian and Grace separated temporarily because of their different schedules, only to run into each other again in one of Grace’s major subjects.

"There you are!" Cian pouted dramatically. "I missed you."

“Goof,” Grace laughed, sinking into her seat as the professor began.

No terrifying professor so far. One boring one, yes—but Grace didn’t care. She was simply grateful.

When orientation ended, Cian offered her a ride. She declined politely.

“I’ll wait with you then.”

Grace texted the driver five minutes ago. He should be here soon.

"So," Cian stretched, "you mentioned you work. What kind of job?"

Grace stiffened. She wasn’t ashamed—but saying it out loud still felt… vulnerable.

“A maid.”

Cian blinked, then laughed lightly.

“Seriously, what is it?”

Grace simply stared at him.

His smile faltered.

“Oh. s**t. I didn’t mean—I thought you were joking. I’m not laughing at that, I swear. It’s just… you’re too beautiful to be—wait, that sounded wrong—”

Grace laughed, easing the tension.

“Relax, you’re fine.”

“Oh, thank God. I really didn’t mean to offend you.”

“How about you?” she asked. “What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh. Trust fund baby, I see.”

Cian clutched his chest in pretend offense.

“Yeah, no, that didn’t make us even.”

They were laughing when a car horn sounded.

Cian’s mouth dropped open.

“That’s your ride? Is that a—” he named the expensive model that absolutely screamed Damien.

Grace froze.

What the hell was he doing here?

"Cian, I have to go." She grabbed her bag. "I’ll see you soon, okay? Bye!"

She rushed off before he could ask anything else.

But Damien’s eyes were already on her—sharp, unreadable, and way too focused.