Clean, spotless countertops, sparkling, stainless pots and pans, assorted kitchen utensils, and state-of-the-art appliances surrounded her.

Her mother had been the cook at the Morton Mansion for as long as she could remember. She had grown up seeing her mother slaving in the kitchen to feed one person to a hundred.

At an early age, she had learned the distinction between her kind and the people her mother served. She had always known her place. She also knew when not to cross the line.

"Hey, Leah..." Her mother’s voice echoed in the spacious room, but she was too engrossed in her thoughts to notice.

The only time she realized that her mother was calling her was when she felt a ladle against her shoulder.

"Ouch!" It did hurt. But not enough to make a bruise. "What’s that for?" She rubbed the fleshy part of her shoulder as she finally turned to look at her mother, who was hovering over her, with a puzzled look.

Her mother was usually calm and patient, but like any other person, there were rare occasions when she lost her temper, even over minor things.

Of course, she understood her mother. It wouldn’t have been easy raising her alone. Therefore, she had never taken it to heart when her mother snapped at her from time to time.

"Pull yourself out of the clouds and stop daydreaming," Maria told her. "We have work to do." Her mother moved through the kitchen as if she were a well-oiled machine, cutting, mixing, and cooking with smooth precision.

Daydreaming? Guilty.

But slacking? She was not.

"Mom, I just finished cleaning three bedrooms and Mr. Morton’s study this morning. I also helped Mr. Taylor with his tasks. I was just taking a few minutes break." She reasoned, slumping back her body against the kitchen counter to rest.

Before the break of dawn, she was already up and about. Although she was young and still strong, she was not a robot. She also needed time to relax and to breathe.

Unfortunately, her mother had other ideas.

"Well, this is not the time to rest yet." Maria grabbed two pitchers from the cabinet and poured water and ice into the first one. For the other pitcher, she had prepared a cold, refreshing lemonade. "We have guests to serve."

For the first ten seconds, she didn’t think much of what her mother said. But when she finally noticed that Maria was preparing enough food to feed an army, she realized what her mother meant.

From the corner of her eye, she saw one of the other regular staff members enter the room. "I need more drinks and food." She announced, rushing into the kitchen and grabbing the already prepared tray on the counter.

"What’s going on?" She wasn’t aware that the Morton family was entertaining anyone today. "Is there a party?"

The other server turned to her as if she couldn’t believe that she was totally clueless. But she had been locked in the rooms upstairs all morning, so she barely had time to see the other side of the mansion.

"Sir Benjie returned home with some of his friends." Her mother finally answered her. "But later on, more of his friends arrived. Now, they are lounging in the pool."

That explains the loud music that she thought she heard earlier. But she didn’t pay much attention to it since she only wanted to grab a drink and sit her ass in a stool for a good thirty minutes.

"Oh!" For a split second, she was surprised. But she quickly shrugged her shoulders.

It was Benjie. So, that was to be expected.

From the Morton siblings, she had discovered that he was the wild one. He loved attending parties just as much as he enjoyed throwing one.

"Yes! So, get your ass out of that chair and help me." Her mother put her fists on both sides of her waist as she waited for her to stand up. Clearly growing impatient.

"Do I really have to? Can I just go back upstairs and start cleaning another room?" She desperately asked. Even cleaning ten bathrooms was better than going out there and serving the almighty Benjie and his friends.

Truthfully, she had been avoiding her employer’s son for days. She even went to the length of hiding from him whenever he was home.

For some reason, Benjie had set his eyes on her. But she knew it only meant trouble that she didn’t need.

"Leah..." Her mother’s voice climbed an octave higher. It was a sign that she was not up for any negotiation.

"Fine!" Jumping out of the stool, knowing she had used her last lifeline. She was not getting out of this, no matter what she said or did.

"Now, go help them serve these foods and drinks." She pushed the tray of lemonade in her hands, while another maid grabbed another tray.

With no other option, she walked alongside the other server, hoping she could use her as a shield to avoid getting any attention.

The loud music that blasted through the large speakers was not enough to drown out the sound of her heartbeat as she looked for him amongst the crowd.

Truthfully, she hated that his mere presence could have such an effect on her. Just seeing him smile could make her heart flutter. Just hearing the brass timbre of his voice could send goosebumps across her skin.

No! She didn’t want him.

No! She shouldn’t want him.

As soon as she spotted their young master on the other side of the pool, she turned to serve the other direction. If she could only avoid his eyes, then she could go back to the kitchen without being noticed.

"Done!" She thought as she returned to the kitchen with another empty tray. Tapping her hand on the counter, exultant and quite satisfied after successfully doing her task without bumping into him. "I’m going to..."

"Not so fast, Leah." Her mother called to her before she could make another step toward the door. "Bring this last tray to Sir Benjie."

Damnit! Just when she thought she was home free. But the look on her mother’s face left her with no room to argue.

"What are you still standing there?" Maria’s eyes widened questioningly.

Unfortunately, she could not tell her mother that she had been avoiding the son of her employer because that might only raise more questions.

The last thing she needed was her mother breathing down her neck. Not when she had almost earned her independence.

In a few more days, she would have enough money for college. She would be moving on campus, finally living her dream of studying in one of the most prestigious universities in the country.

It had not been easy to convince her mother to let her study in a big school. To let her chase her dream.

Therefore, she would not let anyone spoil that. No one would ever mess with her dreams.

"I’m going." This time, she had no one to use as a human shield as she walked straight to the lion’s den.

Slowly, she made her way to the poolside, carefully checking where he was. But Sir Benjie was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he went inside. Or he could have left.

Whatever it was, she felt relieved as she walked across the poolside area. At least, there was no way she would bump into him. She would just leave the tray on his table and leave quietly.

But it was as if fate was playing a cruel joke on her.

Just as she passed the pool, she felt the ground slip off her feet. Or was it the other way around? But before she could do anything about it, she felt her body falling.

In the background, she heard snickering and laughter. Then, voices. But she had no time to process them as she fought hard to keep upright.

Her hands threw the tray in the air as they tried to grab onto something. Anything. But all she snatched was the air around her.

Then—

It happened so fast, she didn’t even have time to blink.

Time stopped.

Her body froze.

She hit something.

Hard. Solid.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt.

Did she die?

"Hey, are you alright?"

But the voice seemed to say otherwise.

"Leah, are you hurt?" He asked, while firm arms wrapped around her body, keeping her from hitting the floor.

For what seemed like forever, she just stared at those lovely brown eyes. Was he an angel?

But upon close inspection, the eyes were moving. Searching.

Then, she felt the air as it entered her lungs, and her heart started beating hard against her chest.

She guessed she was alive.

And he was no angel.

"I’m ok." Automatically, her body rejected his touch as she struggled to get out of his grip and stand up.

But as she put pressure on her feet, she felt it.

The pain.

It was excruciating.

Every time she pressed her foot, it made her wince, forcing her to hold onto him.

"You’re hurt."