My innocence wasn’t lost — it was sold, stamped, and sealed with thirty billion dollars.
At twenty, I was already drowning in debts and poor choices. Every knock on my door felt like a countdown, every message from the bank a threat. Then came him — a man with calm eyes, a measured voice, and an offer that sounded like salvation.
He said he needed a maid.
Except… it wasn’t just him. They did.
An elite circle of billionaires — powerful, untouchable, dangerous.
Maybe it was greed. Maybe desperation. Or maybe I was just too naive to see the trap dressed as opportunity. Thirty billion isn’t something you turn down. So I agreed. Told myself it was only cleaning, cooking, a bit of serving — harmless work for men who liked things spotless.
But I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It was never
