Beneath His Vows

Whisper Behind Closed Doors

Selene’s POV

“Thanks for tutoring me,” Priscilla said with a shy smile. “I’ll do my best.”

I gave her a small nod. “Thank you too. You’ll get the hang of it. Rosa used to… well, you’ll learn.”

Her presence still felt strange to me. Rosa had been more than just a co-worker—she’d been my comfort, my shield in this large and intimidating house. Priscilla was trying, but she wasn’t Rosa. And I hated how my heart kept whispering that nothing would be the same again.

Later that evening, I slumped into my tiny room, grateful for the four walls that separated me from the chaos of the mansion. My bed creaked under my weight as I sat, pulling my phone out of my apron pocket.

One name glowed on the screen: Mum.

I pressed the call button, waiting, chewing on my bottom lip.

“Hello, mummy.”

“My baby!” her voice instantly filled my chest with warmth, though tonight it didn’t quite erase the heaviness I carried. “Your voice is low. What’s the matter?”

I sighed. “Just… having a bad day, Mum.”I hesitated, then asked, “Where’s Jamie? He hasn’t called me either.”

“They went on a school field trip,” she replied. “Three days.”

“Ohh,” I whispered, sinking further into the bed.

She hummed softly, like she used to when I was little. “Then you should be resting, SeleneYou always sound so tired.”

I hesitated. My chest felt like it was tightening. “Mum… please, can you talk to me? I just—I need to hear your voice.”

She hummed softly, like she used to when I was little. “Of course, my child. I’m here. Tell me.”

I was about to spill everything—the loneliness, the confusion, even that one sentence Damien had told me that still burned in my chest—You’re holding well. He probably said it to mock me, but my foolish heart had twisted it into something more.

But before I could confess even a fraction of my chaos, there was a sharp knock at my door.

I froze.

“Selene!” Elisa’s voice came from the other side.

“Mum, I have to call you back,” I whispered hurriedly, my voice breaking.

“What is it, my baby—”

The line went dead as I ended the call, stuffing the phone under my pillow like a guilty secret.

I opened the door. Elisa stood there, slightly flushed, not in her usual

“There’ll be guests in the mansion tomorrow,” Elise announced, her eyes scanning Selene from head to toe. “A full house. Clara and Mr. Damien will be having their public engagement.”

The words hit Selene harder than she expected. Her fingers tightened around the doorframe. “Engagement?” she whispered.

“Yes. Don’t look so surprised. You’ll be on your feet all day, so rest now. No uniforms tomorrow morning—we want things looking polished, no mistakes.” Elise didn’t wait for a response. She turned sharply, her heels echoing down the hallway.

Selene closed the door, pressing her back against it. Her chest rose and fell too fast.

Clara and Damien. Engaged.

She had known Clara was someone important—her beauty screamed of it, her arrogance declared it every second—but hearing the words still stung. Not the way Clara’s taunts stung, not the way Rosa’s absence left her aching. This was deeper. A burn she couldn’t quite explain.

Why do you care, Selene? she scolded herself. He’s not your world. You’re just a maid. Nothing more.

And yet, when she finally lay down, closing her eyes, all she could see was Damien’s cold profile. The way his presence swallowed every room. The way one sentence from him had lit up her whole night.

---,

Morning came too fast,

Sunlight spilled through the curtains, painting her room gold, but it did little to soften the knot in her stomach. Guests filled the halls, their perfumes mingling with the scent of champagne and polished oak. Selene smoothed the fabric of her dress nervously—a simple cream blouse tucked into a modest skirt. Elise had told her no uniforms today, and though the clothes were plain, they made her feel strangely exposed.

She hadn’t dressed to stand out, but somehow, the soft fabric and gentle colors made her look… innocent. Almost out of place among the glittering gowns and tailored suits.

Priscilla, by her side, whispered, “You look so cute in that, Selene. Like you don’t belong here… but in a good way.”

Selene flushed, shaking her head quickly. “It’s nothing. Let’s just keep working the staff were already buzzing. Priscilla was polishing silverware, humming softly to herself. Elise barked orders left and right, ensuring every corner gleamed. Rosa’s absence was still loud, but Selene had no choice but to move with the current.

“Selene,” Priscilla whispered as they worked side by side, her eyes flicking around before lowering her voice further. “Is it true? Mr. Damien’s engagement party is today?”

Selene nodded stiffly, pretending to focus on the tray in her hands.

Priscilla’s lips curled into a grin. “Figures. A man like that doesn’t stay untouched for long. Did you see him yesterday? God, he’s… he’s too beautiful it’s almost unfair.”

Selene’s chest tightened. She forced a small smile, hiding the sting in her chest. “We should focus on the work.”

But the words hardly left her mouth when the sound of heels clicking filled the hall. Clara swept in, dazzling in a pale silk robe, her hair pinned back with effortless grace. Even without trying, she demanded attention.

Her eyes found Selene immediately, and that smile—sharp, knowing—curved her lips. “Oh, you’re still here. Good. I’d hate for the guests to think we don’t keep our maids busy.”

Selene lowered her gaze, bowing her head slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clara moved closer, her perfume enveloping the air. “Do make sure you don’t embarrass us today. This isn’t the kind of event where accidents are forgiven.” She let the words drip, sweet and poisonous, before striding away.

Priscilla muttered under her breath, “She’s something else.”

Selene swallowed hard, gripping the tray tighter. Something else, indeed.

Hours blurred. Guests poured into the mansion, their laughter and chatter echoing through the grand halls. Selene kept her head down, moving from room to room, serving drinks, clearing glasses, doing everything in her power not to glance toward the man at the center of it all.

Damien Veylor.

He stood like a storm wrapped in silk, his black suit cutting sharp lines, his gaze cool and unreadable. Clara clung to his arm, smiling for the cameras, for the guests, for the world.

Selene reminded herself over and over: It’s none of your business. You’re just the help. Nothing more.

And yet, every time her eyes betrayed her, every time she caught the faintest glimpse of him, her chest betrayed her too.

Because even when he stood surrounded by light, Damien Veylor still looked like a man drowning in shadows.

and slipped into the hall. The air in the mansion felt different, charged. Like even the walls knew what was coming.

By the time she reached the kitchen, the staff were already buzzing. Priscilla was polishing silverware, humming softly to herself. Elise barked orders left and right, ensuring every corner gleamed. Rosa’s absence was still loud, but Selene had no choice but to move with the current.

“Selene,” Priscilla whispered as they worked side by side, her eyes flicking around before lowering her voice further. “Is it true? Mr. Damien’s engagement party is today?”

Selene nodded stiffly, pretending to focus on the tray in her hands.

Priscilla’s lips curled into a grin. “Figures. A man like that doesn’t stay untouched for long. Did you see him yesterday? God, he’s… he’s too beautiful it’s almost unfair.”

Selene’s chest tightened. She forced a small smile, hiding the sting in her chest. “We should focus on the work.”

But the words hardly left her mouth when the sound of heels clicking filled the hall. Clara swept in, dazzling in a pale silk robe, her hair pinned back with effortless grace. Even without trying, she demanded attention.

Her eyes found Selene immediately, and that smile—sharp, knowing—curved her lips. “Oh, you’re still here. Good. I’d hate for the guests to think we don’t keep our maids busy.”

Selene lowered her gaze, bowing her head slightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clara moved closer, her perfume enveloping the air. “Do make sure you don’t embarrass us today. This isn’t the kind of event where accidents are forgiven.” She let the words drip, sweet and poisonous, before striding away.

Priscilla muttered under her breath, “She’s something else.”

Selene swallowed hard, gripping the tray tighter. Something else, indeed.

Hours blurred. Guests poured into the mansion, their laughter and chatter echoing through the grand halls. Selene kept her head down, moving from room to room, serving drinks, clearing glasses, doing everything in her power not to glance toward the man at the center of it all.

Damien Veylor.

He stood like a storm wrapped in silk, his black suit cutting sharp lines, his gaze cool and unreadable. Clara clung to his arm, smiling for the cameras, for the guests, for the world.

Selene reminded herself over and over: It’s none of your business. You’re just the help. Nothing more.

And yet, every time her eyes betrayed her, every time she caught the faintest glimpse of him, her chest betrayed her too.

Because even when he stood surrounded by light, Damien Veylor still looked like a man drowning in shadows.