HIS VIRGIN MAID

Chapter One: The Thing “Who is this thing?” The voice came from the stairs—sharp, rude, and full of disgust. Aria turned slowly. A young man stood there, halfway down the staircase. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a plain white T-shirt and dark sweatpants that somehow still looked expensive. His golden-brown hair was slightly messy, like he’d just rolled out of bed, and his skin was smooth and sun-kissed. Perfect thick eyebrows welcomed his hazle eyes.His jaw was sharp, lips full, and his pale hazle eyes were cold. Too cold. Like he didn’t care if she was human or not. Aria’s stomach tightened. He was beautiful, in the most dangerous way. “This is Aria Blake,” said the man beside her—Mr. Chambers, her mother’s so-called ‘debt handler.’ He was also Personal Assistant to billionaire Mr. Pierre Vale. He glanced nervously up the stairs. “Your father brought her here this morning. She’ll be staying at the estate… for a while.” The young man stared at Aria like she was a stain on the floor. “For what?” he asked flatly. “Cleaning? Entertainment? Or is she one of Father’s new charity projects?” Aria’s heart thudded. Her cheeks burned, not with shame—but anger. Every word from his mouth made her skin crawl. “I’m not a thing,” she said quietly, her voice tight. “And I don’t belong to you.” He stepped down another stair, now eye level with her. His eyes scanned her face slowly, almost lazily, but there was something dark in them. Something curious. “You’re in my house,” he said, with a hint of a smile. “Everything in it belongs to me.”Aria stood frozen, her fingers gripping the edge of the apron tied around her waist. The plain, beige fabric made her feel smaller somehow—like a girl playing dress-up in someone else’s nightmare. Her jeans and T-shirt had been taken the moment she arrived, replaced with this... this servant’s uniform. She blinked quickly, but the tears still blurred her vision. Don’t cry, she begged herself. Not in front of him. “I said I’m not a thing,” she repeated, her voice softer now, but steady. Jace tilted his head. His eyes dragged over her like he was inspecting a piece of cheap furniture—slow, almost lazy, but with something cruel just beneath the surface. Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes, hot and unwanted. He noticed. “Oh,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “Are those real tears? Or part of the act?” She swallowed, her throat tight. “I didn’t ask to be here,” she said, forcing the words out. “I’m just paying a debt that’s not even mine.” He was close now. Too close. Aria could see the fine stubble on his jaw, the perfect curve of his mouth, the small scar under his left eye that only made him look more dangerously handsome. He was like a painting that had been broken—and somehow more beautiful because of it. “A debt, huh?” he murmured. “My father really knows how to pick them.” Jace reached out suddenly, brushing a tear from her cheek with the back of his finger. Aria flinched. His touch wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t cruel either. Just... curious. “You don’t look like a maid,” he said. “huh...wierd, anyways know your place and job in this abode.” Aria met his eyes, her heart pounding.He looked more than six foot tall. “yes sir.” For a second, just a second, something flickered in his gaze. Then he smiled—a slow, amused, wicked smile. The mansion looked like it belonged in a magazine—one of those glossy ones no one actually reads but everyone flips through just to dream. As Mr. Chambers led her down a long, silent hallway, Aria took it all in with wide, overwhelmed eyes. The floors were polished black marble that reflected the ceiling lights like water. The walls were smooth and pale gray, decorated with giant abstract paintings that probably cost more than her mother’s entire apartment. Sleek panels of glass stretched from floor to ceiling, opening the view to a private courtyard with glowing pools and trees lit from underneath. Everything smelled like fresh linen and soft cologne. Even the silence felt expensive. “Try not to wander,” Mr. Chambers said, his tone clipped but not unkind. He looked like a man used to stress—mid-thirties, hair combed with precision, dark circles under his eyes. “The security system is… advanced. And the boss doesn’t like surprises. The boss. She didn’t have to ask which one. They stopped at a plain-looking door, tucked neatly between two massive white columns. “Try not to wander,” Mr. Chambers said, his tone clipped but not unkind. He looked like a man used to stress—mid-thirties, hair combed with precision, dark circles under his eyes. “The security system is… advanced. And the boss doesn’t like surprises.” The boss. She didn’t have to ask which one. They stopped at a plain-looking door, tucked neatly between two massive white columns. Mr. Chambers opened it. “This will be your room. You’ll find your schedule on the desk. Uniforms are in the wardrobe. Meals are timed.” Aria stepped in slowly. It was simple, but beautiful. Soft cream walls, warm lighting, a full-sized bed with white covers and a gray throw. A wooden desk sat beneath a small window, and the wardrobe was smooth and clean. It was… surprisingly peaceful. The door clicked shut behind her. She stood in the middle of the room, then sat slowly on the bed. Her body finally let go, and the tears she’d held back came without permission. No gasps, no sobs. Just quiet, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she stared at her trembling hands. What am I doing here? After a while, the silence grew too heavy. She needed to breathe—move. She stepped out into the hallway, heart pounding, and followed the corridor toward where she’d heard voices earlier. She then proceeded to the warmly lit room.It was the kitchen. The kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of fresh bread and coffee. It felt like the only place in the mansion that actually had a pulse. Two girls were standing near the counter, wiping down surfaces. Both wore the same beige maid uniform, but their expressions lit up when they saw Aria. The taller one had sleek blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail and eyes lined with perfect black wings. Confident. Sharp. The other was petite with curly dark hair, soft cheeks, and nervous hands that clutched a dish towel. The tall one raised an eyebrow. “Well, damn. They really are bringing in Kylie Jenner clones now.” Aria blinked. “What?” “You’re hot, babe,” the dark haired girl said quickly, her tone sweet. “Like, really pretty. Tiny waist, big boobs—like a mini Kylie before she got bored with filters.” Aria flushed, unsure if it was embarrassment or gratitude. “I’m Liana,” the tall girl said, drying her hands. “Been here three months. I call this place ‘hell with marble floors.’” She nodded toward the blonde. “That’s May. She cries once a week, but we love her anyway.” May smiled sheepishly. “Twice a week, actually.” Aria gave a soft laugh despite herself. “So,” Liana said, eyeing her from head to toe, “you new-new, or his new?” “His?” Aria asked. Liana smirked. “You’ll figure it out.” Aria’s smile faded a little. There was something in their tone—like they knew exactly what she was in for. Still, it was the first time someone had seen her as more than a debt. Or a burden. It felt… oddly nice. “Thanks,” Aria murmured. “You’ll be fine,” May said kindly. “Pretty girls last longer.” Aria didn’t know whether that comforted or terrified her. Chapter 2 Call me Daddy The laughter from the kitchen faded behind her as Aria wandered down the quieter hallway, needing air, needing space. She didn’t know what she was looking for—but she found something else entirely. A soft thud. Then another. Rhythmic. Slow. She paused, her breath catching. One door was slightly open. A warm glow spilled out into the hallway. And then— "Ughhh… yeah… just like that..." The moan was so clear, so real, Aria’s body stiffened. Her hand hovered over the wall for balance. “Yeah, you like that?” Jace’s voice. Thick with lust, rough like gravel. Aria’s chest tightened. Another moan—longer this time. A woman’s voice, high-pitched and trembling. “Oh god… it slipped out,” the woman whimpered. A grunt. Heavy steps. “Put it back in… please.” Smack. Skin on skin. Groan. “You’re so tight,” Jace growled. The woman gasped again, louder. “Aahh—Jace… yes…” Then his voice—commanding and cruel: “Call me daddy.” A whimper. Hesitation. Then breathless compliance. “Daddy…” He groaned again, deeper, like he was losing control. “Say it louder.” “D-Daddy!” “I wanna make you squirt,” he said in a thick, animalistic growl. “I want it all over me.” Aria felt heat bloom down her neck. Her thighs clenched on instinct. The sounds, the words—she had never heard anything like it. The girl’s moans became wilder, desperate. “Ahh! Please—you’re in too deep!” "Could you -Could you" "Use your fingers "she muttered out like a plea. Jace let out a brutal-sounding grunt. The bed thudded hard against the wall. The woman cried out, a broken mix of pain and pleasure. “Take it,” he growled. Aria stumbled back, her heart hammering in her ears. Her breath came fast. Her skin was on fire. She wasn’t supposed to hear this. She shouldn’t want to keep listening. But she couldn’t forget the sound of his voice… or how it made her feel. Aria sat on the edge of her bed, legs drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them tightly. The sounds she’d just heard—those sounds—still echoed in her head. The deep grunts. The breathless begging. The way Jace spoke like he owned everything, even someone’s body. Her cheeks were still flushed. She swallowed hard. Is that… what maturity sounds like? she wondered. Sex, in her world, had never been loud or wild or… raw. Honestly, it hadn’t been anything. She was a virgin. Eighteen years and not a single real experience beyond that one weird kiss in the school hallway with Drake—her first and only boyfriend in junior high. It had been rushed. Sloppy. Tongue and teeth and too much breath. She barely remembered it now except for the fact that she didn’t enjoy it. She hadn’t let it happen again. Aria had always been quiet. Always the introvert. Books were safer than people. Headphones safer than parties. She liked silence. She liked space. And now she was here… in a mansion that felt too big, too cold, and filled with things she wasn’t meant to see. She blew out a breath and wiped her eyes, then shook her head. Whatever. I only came here to clear a debt. One year. That’s it. She glanced at the folded paper on the bed—her schedule. --- ARIA LANE – DOMESTIC DUTY SCHEDULE Room 17B – Staff Wing Monday to Friday: Morning Shift: 7:00 AM – 11:00 AM (Cleaning, kitchen prep) Midday Break: 11:00 AM – 1:00 PM Afternoon Duties: 1:00 PM – 6:00 PM (Laundry, errands, garden) Evening Break: 6:00 PM – 7:30 PM Night Sweep: 8:00 PM – 9:30 PM (Tidy up hallways, guest wing) Weekends: Saturday: Half-day (8:00 AM – 12:00 PM) Sunday: OFF Permitted to visit approved family location upon request --- Aria sighed. At least I can visit Mom on Sundays. One silver lining. Her hand reached for her phone—her one connection to the outside world. She stared at the screen a second longer before pressing the call button under Mom. It rang twice before the familiar, tired voice answered. “Aria? Is everything okay?” Hearing her mother’s voice cracked something open inside her. “I’m fine,” she whispered, voice tight. “Just… wanted to hear you.” There was a pause. “I miss you, baby. I’m sorry. For all of this.” Aria looked up at the sterile ceiling, blinking back fresh tears. “I know, Mom. I just needed to hear someone who… actually cares.” The call with her mom was short, but soft. “I’ll try to gather up some of the money before the year ends,” her mom promised gently. “Just… if anything bad happens, you let me know. Okay, baby?” “I will,” Aria murmured, her voice small. “I love you.” “I love you too.” Click. Silence. The loneliness crept back into the room like a shadow. Aria lay back on the bed, unlocking her phone and opening i********:. It was a comfort—watching lives that didn’t look anything like hers. Parties, beaches, expensive brunches. Then she paused on a photo. Kylie Jenner. Tanned. Glossy. Tiny waist, full hips, lips plumped to perfection. Her body wrapped in a tight nude dress that shimmered like a second skin. “God damn,” Aria whispered. “She’s hot.” Her fingers hovered over the screen. Her skin, her curves, her whole vibe… No way I look like her. The girls were just teasing. I mean… maybe the lips. The nose, kind of. But like her? She snorted softly. Not in this lifetime. The battery icon blinked red. Low Battery – 5% “Oh, no no no,” she groaned, scrambling off the bed. She rummaged through her bag—shirts, lotion, a wrapped chocolate bar—but no charger cord. She glanced at the time: almost nine. Maybe one of the girls had an extra? Aria slipped on her slippers and tied her apron a little tighter, heading quietly down the hall. The house was dim now, soft sensor lights glowing on the walls like a five-star hotel. Even the silence here felt expensive. She rounded the corner toward the kitchen—then stopped cold. A girl, dressed in the exact same beige uniform, stepped out from behind Jace’s bedroom door. Her blonde hair was a mess—tousled like she’d been in bed, or worse. Her cheeks were flushed. Her apron was slightly wrinkled and tilted sideways on her hips. But damn… she was beautiful. Tall, glowing skin, curves like a magazine cover. Their eyes met for a second—Aria’s wide and startled, the other girl’s unreadable. The blonde didn’t say a word. She just adjusted her apron quickly and walked past with her chin slightly lifted, as if none of it meant anything. But Aria’s heart was racing. Was she just in his room? Was she the one I heard earlier? Is this… what goes on around here? She hadn’t been here 24 hours, and already, her thoughts were moving faster than her feet. No conclusions, she reminded herself. Don’t jump to anything. You’re just here to clean. To pay the debt. That’s all. Still, something about the way the girl’s lips were swollen and her walk slightly uneven… Aria couldn’t help it. Her stomach turned. Not with jealousy—she didn’t even know what it was. But it was the first moment she realized: This house has rules no one talks about. And Jace Vale? He probably makes most of them. Aria steadily walked up to the kitchen.The kitchen looked like something out of a luxury design magazine—open plan, smooth marble counters, backlit cabinets with frosted glass, and a massive double-door fridge that let out a soft sigh every time it opened. Everything sparkled, and everything felt untouchable. Aria stepped in cautiously, still clutching her dying phone. She’d expected to find it empty, but Liana was there—perched on a stool by the counter, lazily sipping juice from a tall glass, her blonde hair now down around her shoulders, gleaming like honey under the kitchen lights. Liana looked up and smirked. “Well, look who’s not asleep yet.” “Hey,” Aria murmured, feeling small in her apron. “Um… my phone’s almost dead. Do you have a charger or something?” Liana blinked, then let out a soft, amused laugh. “Sweetheart. That’s not how things work around here.” Aria frowned. “What do you mean?” “We don’t do cords.” Liana tilted her chin toward the sleek black circle on the counter. “That’s a wireless charging pad. Drop it there. Bam, juice.” Aria placed her phone down, startled to see it instantly light up. “Oh… wow.” Liana gave a light chuckle. “You’ll get used to it. Mr. Vale hates clutter. If it’s not pretty or expensive, it doesn’t belong.” Aria nodded, but her fingers fidgeted at the hem of her apron. The silence between them thickened until she blurted softly, “Can I ask you something?” Liana gave her a lazy side-eye. “You just did. But go ahead.” Aria shifted her weight. “Earlier, I heard… sounds. From Mr. Vale’s room. And I saw someone leaving.” Liana’s smirk deepened. “Let me guess. Blonde, lipstick smudged, walking funny?” Aria’s eyes widened a little. “Yeah.” “Sounds about right.” Liana took another slow sip of juice. “It’s normal.” “Normal?” “Babe,” she said, setting her glass down with a clink, “which girl wouldn’t want a shot with Jace Vale? He’s ridiculously hot, richer than God, and has a voice that makes your spine melt.” Aria stayed quiet, processing that. “Some of the girls aren’t here to scrub toilets,” Liana continued, flicking her hair back. “They’re here to shoot their shot. Cleaning’s just the cover.” “But he—he sleeps with the staff?” Liana gave a shrug. “He doesn’t try. They fall into his bed like gravity. And let’s be honest—everyone could use a taste of that kind of luxury.” Aria’s heart beat faster. She wasn’t sure if it was judgment or fascination she was feeling. Liana grinned knowingly. “Don’t worry, new girl. You’re not the first to ask. And definitely not the first to wonder.” Aria bit her lip, then gave a small, uneasy smile. “I’m not here for that.” “Sure,” Liana said, grabbing her glass and walking past her with a wink. “But the year’s just getting started.” Aria watched her go, a chill dancing up her spine. This house isn’t just about rules. It’s about choices. Temptation. And maybe—just maybe—danger. The evening light had long faded, but inside the estate, it was always glowing—soft golden lighting along the walls, delicate reflections shimmering from the great chandelier above the hall. Aria paused near the doorway of the kitchen, her slippered feet barely making a sound on the polished floor. Then she heard it. The unmistakable sound of the massive front doors opening—smooth, slow, heavy. The air shifted. Voices echoed in the marbled space beyond. He’s here. She peeked. There he stood. Mr. Vale. Even from a distance, he commanded attention. A tall, sharp figure in a dark tailored coat, salt-and-pepper hair swept back neatly, face lined with age but somehow untouched by it. He didn’t look sixty—he looked powerful. He was speaking into a sleek phone held at his ear, the low murmur of his voice too soft to catch. But everything about him was controlled, deliberate. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. Flanking him were two bodyguards. Tall. Muscular. Dressed in dark suits so crisp they could slice paper. Black boots that shone like glass. Earpieces tucked behind their ears. And then… the sunglasses. Shades? Indoors? At night? Aria blinked. It made no sense. What were they even hiding from? The moon? They stood still, hands clasped in front of them, like statues with hearts that beat only for command. Mr. Vale slowly stepped further into the great hall, his shoes clicking softly against the gleaming white marble. The fur carpet caught his stride—ivory, smooth, probably more expensive than everything Aria had ever owned. Behind him, a massive flat screen spanned the wall—too large for one room, almost obnoxiously cinematic. And yet, it blended into the space like a painting. He spoke firmly now—something about “the investors” and “a delay on the Zurich account”—then ended the call with a cold flick of his wrist. Aria stayed still, heart pounding. He hadn’t seen her. Or maybe he had, and simply didn’t care. The room didn’t belong to someone who noticed maids. Still… she couldn’t look away. There was something about him. Not handsome like Jace, not youthful or wild. But dangerous in a quieter way. Like a lion that didn’t roar—because it didn’t need to. And for a moment, all she could think was… So this is the man who owns the house I now live in. And the man who owns Jace. She wished for a moment her dad was still breathing. A man wouldn't want his daughter working to pay off debts. Aria remained hidden just beyond the hall, her eyes fixed on the quiet storm that was Mr. Vale. Where’s his wife? she wondered suddenly. Then her mother’s voice echoed in her mind—soft, almost secretive. “They say she was killed by one of his rivals… no one ever talks about it anymore. Marie Vale vanished like she never existed.” It was chilling. But it made sense, didn’t it? A man like Mr. Vale—owner of John & Juan, or J&J for short—wasn't just powerful. He was dangerous. A banking empire stretching across states, vaults of money, enemies in the shadows. Rivals probably lined up like wolves at the gate. Sad, Aria thought. I wouldn’t want my husband to die because I make money… or me, because he does. She pulled back slightly, not wanting to be seen, but the moment unfolded just ahead of her. Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Jace. He came down casually—no blazer this time, just a plain white tee that clung to his sculpted chest and low-slung dark jeans. His hair was tousled like he hadn’t cared, or like someone had just run their fingers through it. The same arrogant, lazy confidence draped over him like a designer coat. Mr. Vale turned at the sound. His gaze softened slightly. “J?” his deep voice rumbled. “When did you come in?” Jace gave a quick smirk. “Flew in this morning, Dad.” Mr. Vale nodded once, firm and approving. “You should’ve let me know.” “You’re always on a call,” Jace said lightly, but there was warmth in his voice. “Didn’t want to interrupt world domination.” Mr. Vale almost—almost—smiled. “I’ll always make time for you.” Their moment hung in the air, a rare sliver of softness between men carved from stone and steel. Aria exhaled softly, unnoticed. Watching from the shadows. The Vale men weren’t just wealthy. They were untouchable. And for the first time, she realized—whatever debt she came here to pay… She might be stepping into something far bigger than a contract. Chapter 3 The morning light spilled gently through the sheer curtains, golden and warm, but Aria didn’t feel comforted. Her eyes snapped open. She turned her head toward the wall-mounted digital clock—sleek, embedded just above the dresser. 8:15 AM. Her heart plummeted. She sat up fast, covers tangling around her legs. Oh God. I was supposed to be up by seven. Her first full day on the job and she was already an hour and fifteen minutes late. Her chest tightened. What if they’ve noticed? What if Mr. Chambers is looking for me? What if Jace— No. She didn’t want to think about him yet. Still in her lilac pajama set—thin-strapped top and fitted shorts—Aria rushed into the bathroom, lights flickering on automatically as she entered. She rushed into the clean, modern bathroom, the sensor lights clicking on above her as she stepped inside. Then she froze in front of the mirror. Her breath caught in her throat. Despite her panic, she couldn't help but take in the reflection looking back at her. Her dark hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, a little messy from sleep but still soft and full. Her eyes—big, deep brown and framed with long lashes—looked a little dazed, but still warm and expressive. She had naturally defined brows, and soft features—full lips, a gentle nose, smooth golden-brown skin with a glow that didn’t need makeup. She wasn’t the kind of beauty you’d find on magazine covers. But there was something about her—a quiet, effortless charm. The kind that drew eyes, even when she didn’t try. Her shape was attractive. She had a soft, healthy build with curves in the right places, the kind that made clothes sit just right when they were cut well. Enough to make people look twice, but not so much that she ever saw herself as bold or flashy. The Kylie thing was just a joke, she told herself. I don’t really look like her. Still… it was strange to be noticed. Strange to be in a place where looks seemed to carry weight. And now, she was running late. She quickly splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth with trembling hands, and tied her hair back in a rushed ponytail. One hour and fifteen minutes late. Great. But as she stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed her uniform, one thing was clear—she wasn’t going to let herself mess this up again. Aria hurried down the hallway, her soft-soled shoes barely making a sound against the polished floors. She struggled to tie her apron behind her back, twisting awkwardly to reach the knot. Her fingers fumbled—and then— Bump. She staggered back a step, nearly losing her balance. “Oh! I’m so sor—” “Hey!” a sharp voice cut her off. Aria looked up and blinked. It was her—the tall, stunning blonde she’d seen slipping out of Jace’s room the night before. Her hair was straightened to perfection, gleaming under the hall lights. She wore tight jeans and a cropped designer top that clung to her curves like it was sewn onto her skin. Not a trace of the house uniform. “You blind bat,” the girl sneered, one manicured hand brushing invisible lint off her top. “Don’t you know your way around? Or do you need walking lessons too?” Aria stared, stunned. How could someone so pretty be so… rude? “I—” she started. “Move,” the blonde snapped, shoulder-checking her as she walked past with an air of practiced superiority. Aria blinked in silence, her cheeks burning. She didn’t even know her name, but the message was clear: You’re beneath me. With a sigh, Aria kept walking toward the kitchen, now tugging the apron off entirely. Her steps quickened, the sting of the encounter still fresh. As she stepped into the kitchen, the familiar smell of warm pastries and fresh coffee met her. Relief washed over her—until she noticed something odd. May was casually leaning against the counter in a pink hoodie and leggings, scrolling through her phone. Liana wore high-waisted jeans and a soft green blouse, her hair loose around her shoulders. Not a uniform in sight. “You guys…” Aria said slowly, confused. “Why aren’t you in uniform?” Liana looked up, smirking. “It’s Wednesday.” May chuckled from behind her phone. “No uniforms on Wednesdays, sweetheart.” Aria blinked. “Wait—what?” “It’s a thing,” Liana added, shrugging. “House rule. Mr. Chambers doesn’t care as long as we’re presentable. Didn’t anyone tell you?” “Apparently not,” Aria muttered, pulling the apron off and setting it aside. She slumped a little in relief, but the morning still had her nerves tied in a knot. First day and I’m late, bump into a mean Barbie, and I’m the only one in uniform. Great. May tossed her a muffin with a wink. “Welcome to the madhouse.” “Omg, did you see this picture Jace posted?” May squealed, nearly choking on her muffin as she giggled and shoved her phone toward Liana. “What? No—show me!” Liana leaned in over the counter, already grinning. “Is that his abs? Girl, he looks like a Greek god.” “I know right?” May fanned herself dramatically. “Look at those veins—ugh, it’s illegal to be this fine. Is that a GLE at the back?” “Damn,” Liana whispered, eyes wide. “That’s like… six figures on wheels.” Aria, who’d been silently buttering a slice of bread, found herself glancing up. Her ears burned. She didn’t want to seem nosy—but the way they