-HUNTER’S POV-


    Caesar’s tiny voice shattered the silence like a gunshot. “It wasn’t Mommy’s fault! That meandy made her do it!”


    The room froze.


    Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every single ounce of tension thickened until it felt like the walls themselves were holding their breath.


    I stared down at the small boy clutching the hem of Celine’s jacket, his little fists trembling with rage. His big, ssy eyes burned with something fierce–something raw–as he looked up at her, demanding justice.


    I wasn’t used to that.


    To people standing up for each other. For the first time in years, I didn’t know how to respond.


    My gaze flicked to Celine.


    She was still kneeling in the mess, her hands shaking as she pulled Caesar close. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something–exin–but nothing came out.


    Bianca’s scoff broke the moment. “Sir, you can’t seriously believe—”


    I lifted a hand. She shut up instantly.


    The urge to fire Celine burned through me. I’d been waiting for an excuse to get rid of her. To sever this strange, irritating pull she had over me.


    But then–Caesar.


    Caesar, standing there like a tiny, furious soldier<b>, </b>defending his mother like it was the only thing that mattered.


    And suddenly, I wasn’t <b>so </b>sure anymore.


    I let the silence stretch. Let it sink into every person in this damn room until they felt it. Until they squirmed under it.


    And then–calm. Controlled. “You want to keep your job, Celine?”


    She swallowed hard, nodding. “Yes<b>, </b>sir.”


    “Fine.” My voice was cold. Final. “Then you’ll serve the guests tonight. Personally.”


    The reaction was immediate.


    Her breath hitched. The maids exchanged shocked nces. <b>Even </b>Bianca’s smug expression faltered for half <b>a </b>second.


    It wasn’t kindness. It was punishment. A way to make sure she stayed right where I could see her.


    Her hands clenched around <b>Caesar’s </b>small shoulders, but she didn’t argue. Didn’t beg.


    She just dipped her head. “Understood.” I turned. <fn9d50> Th?s chapter is updated by findnovel</fn9d50>


    “Get cleaned up.” And then–<b>1 </b>walked away.


    9:09 pm


    -CELINE’S POV-


    G


    I should’ve seen thising.


    Hunter never missed a chance to make my life harder. But this? This wasn’t just difficult. This was cruel.


    I moved fast, practically running to my tiny room, my breath shaky as I tore off my ruined uniform. The scent of spilled wine clung to my skin, thick and suffocating. I scrubbed at it until my arms burned, but no amount of washing could erase the humiliation.


    Just one night.


    I whispered it like a prayer. Like if I said it enough times, it would somehow make this easier.


    It didn’t.


    Because the worst part wasn’t the guests. Wasn’t the way Hunter’s eyes would burn into me all night, watching, waiting?


    The worst part was leaving him.


    38


    I found one of the kinder maids—the only one who didn’t treat me like I was beneath her–and begged her to watch Caesar. At first, she hesitated, her eyes darting around like she knew this was a bad idea.


    But I was desperate.


    “Please,” I whispered. “Just tonight.”


    She exhaled sharply. “Fine. But just for tonight.”


    Relief hit me so hard that I almost sank to my knees. Instead, I crouched in front of Caesar, cupping his warm little cheeks.


    I need you to be good, okay?” My voice was soft, but firm. “Stay here. No trouble.”


    His lip wobbled. “But I wanna go with you.”


    My chest ached. “Not this time, sweetheart.”


    He didn’t argue. Just nodded, even as <b>tears </b>filled his eyes. I stood up, took a breath deep enough to hurt, and walked out the door.


    The night blurred around me<b>–</b>soft murmurs, clinking <b>sses</b>, careful steps as I wove through the sea of expensive suits and elegant gowns, bncing trays, keeping my head down.


    Invisible. That was the goal.


    But then- I felt it. That pull. That weight of a stare pressed against my skin like a slow burn.


    Him.


    Even without looking, I knew Hunter’s eyes were on me. Watching. Assessing. Taking apart something he probably didn’t even want to understand.


    And suddenly, I wasn’t invisible anymore.


    <b>I </b>swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus, to move, to keep my hands steady as I poured another drink.


    9:09 pm 5


    <b>? </b>


    <b>D </b>


    But I wasn’t the only one who noticed.


    Vincent leaned back in his chair, slow andzy, like he had all the time in the world to pick apart whatever tension was humming between me and his host.


    His gaze flicked between us, sharp and knowing.


    “You’re a new face,” he mused, swirling his drink, his voiceced with amusement.


    I tightened my grip on the tray, keeping my eyes down.


    Hunter didn’t respond.


    Vincent smirked. “No introduction? That’s not like you.” He tilted his head, watching Hunter closely, reading between the silence.


    <b>38 </b>


    “You’re usually quick to dismiss things that don’t matter.” A pause. A longer sip of his drink. Then- “But I suppose it’s hard to dismiss something when your eyes keep lingering on her.”


    My breath caught. For a moment–one impossible, fleeting moment–I nced up.


    And met his eyes.


    A single second stretched impossibly long, the air between us heavy, charged- And then—


    “She’s nothing important,” Hunter said.


    His voice was cold. Unbothered. A de slicing through whatever that moment had been.


    “Just a maid.”


    I nodded like it didn’t sting. It didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.


    Vincent exhaled through his nose, shaking his head, smirking like he had just uncovered something interesting. “Sure,” he murmured, tipping his ss toward Hunter before taking another sip.


    “A maid that got you all worked up?” His smirk deepened. “Right.”


    Hunter’s gaze snapped to him, sharp. A silent warning. But Vincent only leaned back, looking thoroughly entertained.


    I moved too fast. One second, I was trying to get away from their words, their stares.


    The next- A ss slipped from my grasp. <b>Water </b>sshed. A sharp gasp cut through the room like a de.


    And then-“You clumsy idiot!”


    Charlotte Hill shot up from her chair, eyes wide with rage as the cold water seeped into her dress.


    My heart mmed against my ribs.


    “I–I’m so sorry,” I stammered, already reaching for a napkin, desperate to undo what couldn’t be undone.


    But she smacked my hand away like I was something filthy.


    “Don’t touch me,” she snapped, her voice dripping with disgust. “Do you even realize how much this dress costs?” She let out a bitterugh. “Of course you don’t. You don’t belong here. Who even let you in?”


    <b>3/5 </b>


    ?


    The walls felt too tight. The air is too thin.


    I could hear the whispers. Feel the amused smirks pressing against my skin like bruises.


    I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay still. To stay small.


    “I—I didn’t mean to—*


    “Oh, you didn’t mean to?” she mocked, crossing her arms. “Well, that changes everything.”


    Laughter. Someone covered their mouth, trying to hide their amusement.


    <i>The </i>head maid rushed forward, her voice frantic. “Miss Charlotte, I am sorry! She will be dealt with immediately-”


    But Charlotte’s attention had already shifted. To him. To Hunter.


    “You should fire her,” she spat, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder. “She’s an embarrassment.”


    <i>The </i>breath in my lungs vanished. Slowly, painfully, I lifted my gaze. And met his.


    Hunter’s expression was unreadable.


    But his eyes- Sharp. Cold. Unwavering. I had no idea what he was thinking. But I felt it. The shift in the air. The way the room hung on his silence.


    Vincent sighed, taking azy sip of his drink. “Alright, Charlotte. That’s enough. It was just water.”


    Charlotte scoffed, tossing him an incredulous look. “Enough? Do you have any idea how expensive this dress <b>is</b>?” She gestured toward me, her lip curling.


    “This pathetic maid doesn’t belong here.”


    Hunter’s grip on his ss tightened. And for the first time that night- He looked like he might just break it.


    He hadn’t meant to watch me all night.


    Hadn’t meant to notice the way my shoulders curled in, how my hands trembled <b>as </b><b>I </b>gripped the tray, how myshes fluttered against tear–streaked cheeks <b>as </b>I fought to keep it together.


    But I was right there. Small. Unassuming. But standing.


    And it pissed him off.


    Charlotte’s voice drilled into his skull, high–pitched and grating, every word like nails against ss. He had tolerated her before–her entitlement, her superiorityplex<b>, </b>the way she sucked the oxygen from every room she entered.


    But tonight? Tonight, her voice was unbearable.


    Because it was aimed at me. His fingers flexed. His jaw locked.


    He needed it to stop. And then-


    <b>A </b>sharp crack.


    His ss hit the table with force<b>, </b>a sound that sliced through the room <b>like </b><b>a </b>de.


    9:10 pm 13 B


    Silence.


    Everyone froze.


    Charlotte’s mouth hung open in midint. The guests stiffened. Even Vincent, who never took anything seriously<b>, </b><b>sat </b>up a little straighter.


    Hunter stood, slow and deliberate. His gaze cut through the space between us, burning, unraveling, undoing.


    I swallowed hard,


    “That’s enough.”


    The words were low, and firm. A warning, But even he wasn’t sure who he was talking to.


    Charlotte sucked in a breath, clearly ready to argue. But something about his stare–something dangerous–made her think


    twice.


    No one moved. No one spoke. Hunter took a step forward. And just like that, the night became something else entirely.