Private maid escapes Alpha Heir

In Ethan's villa, after collecting my salary, I ran into a group of new maids in the hallway. The one leading the pack was impeccably made up, her eyes darting around with a sharp, calculating glint. "You must be Layla, Ethan's personal maid?" she asked. I nodded. She beamed instantly and grabbed my hand with practiced familiarity. "I'm Zoey. I'm new here." I didn't say a word. Her gaze landed on the gemstone bracelet on my wrist, lingering for a second or two. "Ethan gave you that bracelet, didn't he?" A senior maid passing by with a tray chimed in, "It's not just a bracelet. She makes 90k a year." Zoey's eyes lit up. "Ninety thousand? Just for serving coffee and eating with Ethan?" She emphasized the word "just" pointedly. The senior maid chuckled, "She's taking care of Ethan. You think that's the same thing?" Zoey turned to me, a faint smile playing on her lips as if she were appraising an overpriced item. "Layla, what exactly do you do on a daily basis?" "I manage his daily needs and taste his food for poison before meals," I replied calmly. "That's it?" she let out a scoffing laugh. "So, basically, anyone could do your job?" I remained silent. A younger maid beside her chimed in, "Don't say that, Zoey. She gets expensive gifts from Ethan, too." Zoey glanced at the gemstone bracelet on my wrist and smirked. "That's not what I meant. I just think that with a position this good, someone else might be able to make even more of it." She locked eyes with me, enunciating every word, "Layla, don't mistake it. I just feel bad for you. You're paid so well, yet you never look happy. If it were me, I'd show everyone in this villa exactly why that money is well spent." Her words were sharp, each word stinging like a needle. Whispers rippled through the onlookers. "Zoey has a point..." "Exactly. 90k a year and she never even brings us any snacks." "And she's a low-ranking Omega to boot. I've been wondering—an Omega, lower in status, weaker in ability than any of us— why does she get to be his personal maid?" "And if someone else is more capable, why shouldn't they vie for the spot?" Zoey's smirk widened as she heard them. She stepped closer, lowering her voice, but keeping it loud enough for everyone to hear. "Layla, don't worry. If I actually take this position, I won't hog all the benefits like you do. Afternoon tea, snacks—they'll be on me." She stood up straight, offering a smile that was both sweet and fake. I looked at her, feeling neither anger nor resentment. Only one thought crossed my mind: She was actually going to go for it! Thank goodness! Finally, someone else was willing to step into the cage.