The Billionaire's Innocent Housemaid

*Chapter 1: * The water pipe slipped from my hand the second his black Range Rover stopped. Ethan Williams was home. And his cold, ice-blue eyes were not looking at his mansion. They were looking at me — the housekeeper's daughter in a wet top, standing in his garden. I should have run. Instead, I froze like a deer. The Williams Estate stood on top of the green hills in Cotswolds, England like a white crown. For a hundred years, it had seen money, power, and secrets. The walls of that old manor didn't just smell of old wood; they smelled of old money. And in the servant's quarter of that estate, I was born and raised. My name is Alisa. My mother, Mariya, was the most loyal housekeeper the Williams family had ever had. My father had left us when I was just two years old, for another woman. Since then, the estate was our whole world. When I was 14, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. On her deathbed, my mother held Madam Margaret Williams's hand and cried, "Madam, my daughter..." Margaret Williams, one of the most respected women in Cotswolds, said one line that changed my life forever. "Mariya, don't worry. Alisa is my daughter from now on." My mother died a week later. Margaret kept her promise. She didn't treat me like a servant. She admitted me to the same expensive private school as her own daughter, Elena. She gave me the same food, the same room next to Elena's. But I knew my place. Gratitude made me work. Every morning I woke up at 5 AM and helped in the kitchen before going to college. I never forgot who I was - the housekeeper's daughter. Elena Williams was the same age as me - 21. We were not just friends; we were sisters. Elena would always say, "You are not my servant, Alisa. You are my soul sister." And today, the whole mansion was in a festival mood. Because he was coming back. *Ethan Williams.* The heir of the Williams Empire. Margaret's son. Elena's elder brother. After 5 years of doing his MBA in London and handling their business in New York, he was finally coming home. I had never really seen him properly. When he left for London, I was just 16, a skinny girl with braces. I only knew him from photos - tall, broad, always with a serious face. "Alisa! Alisa! Where are you!" Elena came running to the garden. She was wearing a beautiful red gown. "My brother is coming! Mom even called Sophia! Hurry, go make the juice!" I was still in the garden, watering the roses, my hands shaking. I was wearing a simple cream top and a black skirt - Elena's old clothes, but on me, they looked like designer wear. My long black hair was tied in a ponytail. No makeup. Ethan stepped out of the car. For a second, the whole world stopped. He was taller than in the photos. Broad shoulders, white shirt sleeves folded to show his veiny, muscular forearms. Light beard, sharp jawline. And his eyes found mine again. His driver took his bags. Margaret hugged him. "Welcome home, my son!" Ethan hugged his mother, but his eyes were still on the garden. I quickly disappeared towards the kitchen, my heart beating like a drum. "Who was that girl in the garden?" I heard him ask quietly. Margaret smiled, "That is Alisa. Mariya's daughter. Don't you remember? She lives with us now. Like a daughter." Inside the hall, Sophia Thomas was waiting. The daughter of his father's business partner. Rich, beautiful, and in love with Ethan since childhood. Margaret wanted Sophia as her daughter-in-law. Margaret called, "Alisa, dear, bring the juice for Ethan." I came with the tray, my head down. My hands were trembling so badly. Ethan was sitting on the sofa. When I held the glass out to him, without looking at his face, his finger brushed against mine. I flinched and almost dropped the glass. He quickly held it firmly. His touch was warm. "Careful," he said. His voice was deep, low. I whispered, "Sorry, sir." He frowned a little at that word. He drank the juice, but I could feel his eyes following me as I walked back. Sophia noticed it and her beautiful face twisted in jealousy. An hour later, lunch was ready. Margaret said, "Alisa, go call Ethan. He is in his room. Tell him food is ready." I slowly climbed the stairs. The door was slightly open. I knocked softly. "Come in." Inside, Ethan was lying on his bed after his shower, wearing only a vest. His broad back, his muscular shoulders... I immediately looked down at the floor. "Sir... food is ready. Madam is calling you." Hearing my soft voice, he jumped up from the bed. He walked towards me and I got scared and tried to step back. He immediately stopped, keeping a respectful distance. He leaned against the door frame. "Sorry... Did I scare you again in the garden? I didn't mean to stare," he said softly, his voice now gentle. "What is your name? Alisa, right?" I nodded, still looking down. "You are... very beautiful, Alisa. Has anyone ever told you that?" He said it slowly, looking into my eyes, not my body. There was honesty in his voice. My eyes filled with tears. No one had ever said that to me like that. Seeing my silence, he smiled a little. A real smile this time. "Okay, you can go. I'll come down. And Alisa... don't call me sir. Call me Ethan." I ran downstairs. Downstairs at the dining table, I was serving water, my hands still trembling. When I poured water into his glass, a little water spilled on the table near his hand because of my shaking. "Ah! Alisa! Look properly!" Sophia shouted loudly to insult me. My eyes started to water. "Sorry... sorry..." Ethan said nothing. He took a tissue from the table, wiped the table himself, and then gently took the jug from my shaking hands. "It's okay. It's just water." The whole table went silent. Ethan Williams, the heir of Williams Empire, who never tolerated a single mistake, just said "It's okay" to a servant girl's mistake. Margaret and Elena looked at each other, shocked. Sophia's face turned black with anger. Ethan sat down, but his eyes were still on me. And that is where this story begins.