The bright Dallas sunshine poured through the giant floor-to-ceiling windows of the Sterling family estate, lighting up the polished marble floors. Outside, the lush green lawns and sparkling swimming pool made the property look like a calm paradise, but inside the high-ceiling hallways, the air felt heavy with tension. Victoria stood at the end of the long dining corridor, smoothing down her designer white pantsuit while checking her reflection in the gilded wall mirror. Her high heels clicked sharp and fast against the stone floor as she walked toward the kitchen, her red lips set in a tight, angry line. To anyone on the outside, she was the picture of elegance and success, the wealthy woman who managed every detail of her family estate with total control, but behind closed doors, her strict rules felt like a heavy weight to everyone who worked under her roof.
In the kitchen, Sarah was down on her knees on the cold tile, her soft green maid uniform spotted with damp water stains. She was struggling to clean up a shattered glass vase and spilled orange juice, her breathing fast and shallow as she tried to gather the sharp glass pieces without cutting her trembling hands. Sarah had worked at the mansion for only six months, keeping her head down and doing her job quietly, but over the last few weeks, her face had grown pale and tired. She rested one shaky hand against her lower belly, a soft tear rolling down her cheek as she tried to catch her breath while crouching on the floor. Her body hurt from working long hours without rest, but she knew she could not stop until every inch of the floor looked spotless.
Victoria marched into the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared down at the young maid on the floor. Her voice rang out sharp and cold, cutting through the quiet sound of Sarah’s soft crying. She did not care that Sarah looked hurt or exhausted; she only cared that her high standards were not being met instantly. Victoria pointed a long fingernail at the mess, stepping closer until the shadow of her white suit covered Sarah completely. She took a deep breath, her eyes cold as she looked at the spilled food and broken glass scattered across the marble floor.
Victoria: WHAT IS THIS?! DO IT AGAIN!
Sarah squeezed her eyes shut, pulling back slightly as her hands shook over the broken pieces. She gasped for air, her knuckles turning white as she pressed her arm against her side in sudden pain. The stress and physical strain of the past few weeks seemed to hit her all at once, making her dizzy as she tried to push herself up off the stone floor. She looked up at Victoria with tear-filled eyes, her voice weak and shaking as she begged for just a small moment of mercy.
Sarah: PLEASE... THE BABY!
Victoria did not soften her expression for a second; instead, her eyes narrowed as if the mention of a baby was a personal insult to her authority. She stepped even closer, her leather shoes right near Sarah's trembling fingers, refusing to offer a hand or call for help. For months, Victoria had kept a massive secret hidden from her husband, making sure that certain truths never came to light inside this house. She wanted Sarah to stay quiet and stay in her place, using fear to keep the weak young woman from speaking up about what really happened in the past. But as Sarah’s cries grew louder, the heavy oak doors at the end of the grand foyer began to rattle, signaling that someone was coming home early.