MY WORST NIGHTMARE.

EPISODE 2

LUCAS' POV.

The afternoon sun hung low above the Hamilton estate, drenching the gardens in amber light. I had been trimming the hedge by the pool, pretending not to notice the ripples in the water where she'd been moments ago. Vivian. The mistress's daughter. The girl I'd spent years trying to forget... and failing miserably.

The sound of her laughter still clung to the air, teasing me like a curse. I could still feel where her hand brushed mine before she left, soft and warm, like she didn't belong to the same world I did.

And then the world reminded me that she didn't.

"Lucas."

Her voice... sharp, cold, and deliberate... froze the air around me.

Lady Margaret Hamilton.

I straightened immediately, bowing my head slightly. "Ma'am."

She stood at the edge of the stone path, elegant as ever in her evening gown, the fabric glinting gold under the sun. Her face was a perfect mask of control... but her eyes were seething.

"I thought I made myself clear years ago," she said, stepping closer. "You were never to be seen anywhere near my daughter."

"I was only working, ma'am," I replied quietly, my gaze fixed on the ground. "Miss Vivian came to me-"

"And you should have turned away the moment she opened her mouth." Her tone sliced through the air like a blade. "You seem to forget your place far too easily, Lucas."

I clenched my jaw. "With respect, ma'am, I know my place. I've been serving this family since I could walk. My mother raised me to-"

"Your mother," Margaret interrupted, her voice dripping venom. "Your mother is alive and employed here because of my mercy. Do not mistake my generosity for weakness, boy."

My chest tightened. I wanted to look her in the eye, to tell her I wasn't the same terrified servant's child anymore. But I stayed silent. Defiance only ever ended one way in this household.

"Do you think I don't notice the way you look at her?" she continued, circling me like a hawk. "The way your eyes linger when she's near? You may be older now, Lucas, but don't you dare imagine you could ever be more than what you are... a servant's son."

The words hit like stones. I felt heat climb my neck, but I forced myself to keep steady.

"With all due respect, ma'am... Miss Vivian is kind to everyone. She doesn't mean harm."

Margaret's lips twitched into a cruel smile. "Kindness," she murmured. "Such a foolish excuse for attraction. OH I recognise infatuation when I see it?"

Her heels clicked closer until she was standing right in front of me. "I see everything that happens under this roof, Lucas. If I ever find you alone with her again... for any reason... I'll make sure both you and your mother are sent out through those gates before sunset. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said tightly. "Perfectly clear."

"Good," she said, satisfied. She turned slightly, her perfume thick in the air. "Now, get back to your duties. I have a daughter to discipline."

She began to walk away, her gown swaying like a shadow trailing behind her. But halfway up the steps, she stopped and looked back at me... her expression sharp enough to wound.

"You know," she said softly, "it's almost sad. You remind me so much of your father. Stubborn, loyal... and equally pathetic."

And with that, she was gone.

I stood there frozen, my chest burning with every breath. My hands were shaking, not from fear... not anymore...but from the ache of helplessness that never seemed to fade. I had promised myself years ago that I would never let anyone humiliate me like that again. Yet here I was, trapped, dirt under the same boots I'd polished since I was twelve.

For a long time, I said nothing. Just stood there, breathing through the rage until it dulled into something colder. I glanced at the window above the east balcony... Vivian's room. I could almost see the faint flicker of her curtains moving, like she was still standing there, watching, regretting everything she couldn't change.

But that's the thing about this house.

Regret doesn't mean anything here.

Power does.

VIVIAN'S POV

I paced in my room, biting my lip till it almost hurt. I could still hear my mother's voice echoing across the garden, sharp and loud. I didn't need to see her to know she was scolding Lucas again.

"Bloody hell," I muttered under my breath, pressing my palm against the glass window. "Why does she always have to do this?"

Through the glass, I saw him standing there, shoulders stiff, staring down at the ground as she walked away. He looked so... small. Not weak... just trapped. And maybe that's what hurt most.

I slammed my window shut and sat on the edge of my bed, heart thudding. I hated the way she made me feel like a child, the way she treated him like he wasn't even human. I hated the silence that came after every argument, like the house itself was punishing me for daring to feel something real.

A knock broke through my thoughts.

I turned, half expecting to see my maid, but the door opened before I could speak ...and there she was. My mother. Perfect as ever, except her lipstick was slightly smudged, which only meant one thing: she was furious.

"Vivian," she said, closing the door behind her. Her voice was low, dangerously calm. "Would you care to explain what you were doing by the pool with that boy?"

"I wasn't doing anything, Mother," I said, standing up quickly. "We were just-"

"Just what?" she snapped. "Flirting with a servant? Laughing like you were equals? Do you have any idea what people would say if they saw you behaving like that?"

"No one did," I shot back, my chest tightening. "It was just us-"

"That's precisely the problem," she cut in. "You seem to forget who you are, Vivian. You are a Hamilton. You carry a name that people respect...not because of who you are, but because of what your father and I have built. And I will not have you throw that away for a boy who cleans our floors."

Her words made something in me snap. "He's not just a boy," I said, my voice trembling. "He's a person, Mother. He works harder than anyone in this house, and you treat him like filth. It's disgusting."

Her eyes narrowed. "Careful," she warned. "You're starting to sound like your father."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," I whispered.

The silence that followed was deafening. She stepped forward, face unreadable, and for a second I thought she might slap me. Instead, she smiled... that tight, chilling smile she used whenever she wanted me to regret speaking.

"You're still a child," she said finally. "And children don't understand the cost of disobedience."

"I'm almost eighteen," I said, my voice low but steady. "I know exactly what I'm saying."

Her smile vanished. "Eighteen or not, as long as you live under my roof, you'll obey my rules." She turned toward the door, pausing briefly. "I've tolerated your little outbursts for too long, Vivian. But this..." She glanced toward the window, her expression hardening. "This ends tonight."

When she left, I didn't breathe for a long time. My whole body trembled...anger, fear, confusion all twisting together like vines choking me from the inside.

I walked to the mirror and stared at myself ...same blonde hair, same green eyes... and for the first time, I didn't recognise the girl looking back. My reflection looked... lonely.

I picked up my phone and stared at it, thinking, debating, until I finally whispered to myself,

"Maybe it's time to stop listening."