A New Presence
"Marcus! Wake up, son." Aya’s voice echoed down the hallway, breaking through the morning stillness.
A groggy mumble came from beneath the thick blankets. "Ugh... Mom, why are you so loud?" Marcus groaned, shifting to bury his face into the pillow.
Aya strode into his room, hands on her hips, her expression torn between amusement and exasperation. "Did you forget? It's your cousin's birthday today! Your grandfather expects you to be there, and I won’t have you making excuses. Now, get up and get ready for breakfast."
Marcus sighed heavily, rubbing his temples before dragging himself out of bed. He trudged downstairs, barely awake, when Aya added, "Oh, by the way, Irish went home last night to help with her brother’s wedding. She’ll be gone for a while. In her place, we have a friend of hers… her name is Ella. I hope you like her cooking."
Still sleepy, Marcus barely paid attention—until he stepped into the dining room.
Standing near the table, adjusting a serving tray, was a woman he had never seen before. Marcus froze. His drowsiness vanished in an instant.
She was striking—her beauty natural and effortless. With dark, korean luminous eyes that held an unreadable depth, a delicate nose, and lips naturally tinged with red, she carried herself with quiet grace. Her skin was smooth and fair, as if untouched by hardship, yet there was something in her stance that hinted at resilience.
"Good morning, ma'am. Good morning, sir. Your breakfast is ready," Ella greeted, her voice warm and inviting.
Marcus stared, caught off guard. Is she really the new cook? He thought himself, but something about her presence unsettled him.
"Let’s eat," Aya said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Still frowning, Marcus took his seat but soon grew irritated by the maids lingering in the dining hall. "Mom, tell them to get out. I don’t want strangers staring at me while I eat," he muttered, his voice edged with impatience.
Aya gave him a pointed look but turned to the maids with a polite nod. "Ladies, can you step out for a moment? I’ll call you back when we’re done."
The women exchanged glances before leaving. Ella, too, turned to go, but Marcus found his eyes trailing after her against his will.
"Marcus, what do you think of the food?" Aya’s voice snapped him back.
Marcus took a bite and paused. "It’s… good," he admitted, though he tried to sound indifferent. His mother smirked knowingly.
"Irish has been cooking for us for years, but I must say, this is quite impressive," Aya remarked, glancing toward the door where Ella had exited. "I suppose you’ll have to forget about your diet today."
Marcus didn’t reply, focusing on his plate instead.
In the maid’s quarters, Ella sat quietly, sipping a cup of tea when Eden, one of the household staff, turned to her curiously. "So, how long are you staying with the Jones family?"
Ella hesitated. "I’m not sure. Irish said she’d be gone for about ten days, but I don’t know if they’ll need me beyond that."
Before Eden could respond, Aya entered the room. "Eden, can you give us a moment?" she asked.
Eden nodded and quickly left.
Aya stepped forward, her gaze fixed on Ella. "I want you to stay. Become our permanent cook."
Ella blinked in surprise. "But… what about Irish?"
Aya’s expression didn’t waver. "I've already arranged something for her. She’ll be working for my brother’s household instead. You’ll stay here."
Ella hesitated. "I… I appreciate the offer, but—"
Aya cut her off. "If you don’t want the job, that’s fine. I just need a clear answer."
Ella swallowed hard, her mind racing. She needed the money. Her mother’s medical bills were piling up. Opportunities like this didn’t come often.
"Yes, ma’am. I’ll take the job," she finally said, determination lacing her voice.
Aya smiled. "Good. Carlos will take you home later to collect your things."
The Jones family was one of the wealthiest in Texas City, their influence stretching across multiple industries. Despite their wealth, they were known for their generosity, a trait that came from the head of the family himself—Arthur Jones.
Arthur had always instilled values of humility and family into his grandsons, Marcus and Felix. Marcus, 28, carried an air of quiet mystery, his tanned complexion and sharp features making him stand out effortlessly. Felix, at 30, was equally charming but more openly charismatic, with an easy smile that won people over instantly.
"Happy birthday, Felix," Marcus greeted his cousin, giving him a quick, brotherly hug.
"Thanks, man. Grandpa’s been waiting for you," Felix replied, guiding him toward the elder’s table.
As they walked, they reminisced about their college days, their laughter filling the grand hall.
Arthur’s booming voice soon interrupted them. "Marcus! My boy, come here!"
Marcus turned and found his grandfather looking at him, eyes filled with warmth and pride.
"I’ve missed you, too, Grandpa," Marcus said, taking a seat beside him. "I would’ve visited sooner, I’ve been so busy."
Arthur waved off his excuse. "No worries. I understand. But today is a special day, and there’s someone I want you to meet."
Marcus arched a brow. "Who?"
Before Arthur could answer, a commotion at the entrance drew their attention. A young woman, tall and striking in a fitted red dress, walked in with effortless confidence.
Arthur’s face lit up. "Ah, there she is. Marcus, meet Celine—my best friend’s granddaughter."
Celine approached with a knowing smile. "So, you’re Marcus? Your grandfather wasn’t exaggerating—you are quite the handsome one."
Marcus forced a tight smile. "Uh… thanks."
Celine slid into the seat next to him, her movements deliberate. "Come on, don’t be so stiff," she teased. "We’ll be seeing a lot of each other soon."
Marcus frowned. "What do you mean?"
Arthur chuckled. "Marcus, don’t be so surprised. It’s time you settled down, and I couldn’t think of a better match than Celine."
Marcus’s expression darkened. What the hell is this? His grip on the glass in his hand tightened.
Celine leaned in closer, lowering her voice just enough for only him to hear. "Don’t look so shocked, Marcus. This has been in the works for a while. And trust me… I always get what I want."
Marcus exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain composed. But inside, anger simmered. He hated being controlled, and he hated being played even more.
For the first time that evening, his mind drifted to the new cook—the woman who stood quietly in the background, unnoticed, unlike the one sitting beside him.
Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only stranger in this house anymore.
Arthur Jones stood tall on the grand stage, his voice booming with pride as he addressed the guests gathered in the elegant ballroom. His silver hair gleamed under the chandelier’s golden glow, his sharp eyes scanning the room with authority.
Everybody was thrilled about the announcement, knowing that every public announcement coming from Arthur was surely big.
Marcus and Felix felt excited yet nervous about it, because it may be a surprise or a life changing matter.
