Chapter 11

ELYRA.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, replaying everything I had said to him the previous night Every sharp word. Every glare. The way I had poured my frustration on him as if he was the reason my entire day had gone wrong.

Technically, I could have just walked out of that room.

That was the simplest thing to do.

But no. I had stayed. I had argued. I had let the stress from Star, the maids, the tension, everything — pile up until it burst. And he happened to be the unlucky target.

Or maybe I was the unlucky one.

I turned to my side and pressed my face into the pillow.

“What were you thinking, Elyra?” I muttered to myself.

The contract floated into my mind like a dark cloud. That contract was the only reason I was still here. The only thing keeping my father on his road to recovery.  If he decided I breached it… if he cut it off…

I sat up quickly. No. I couldn’t let that happen.

I would apologize.

After nearly thirty minutes of arguing with myself—pacing, sighing, rehearsing possible lines, I finally forced my legs off the bed.

“Just apologise,” I told my reflection in the mirror. “Be calm. Be mature.”

My reflection on the mirror didn’t look convincing.

I stepped out of my room and walked down the hallway, my feet landing quietly on the cold tiled floor.

When I reached the staircase, I noticed something through the front window. His cars were still in the lot. Both of them. So he was still home.

That was good. Or not good. The new few minutes would determine.

My stomach tightened.

I descended the stairs slowly, gripping the railing like I needed support. As I reached the dining area, I spotted him immediately.

He was seated at the long dining table, calm as ever, having breakfast. The light from the chandelier fell across his face, making him look unfairly composed. Like last night hadn’t happened.

He didn’t look up.

For a second, I considered turning around and running back upstairs.

But I had come this far.

My heart thudded so loudly it felt embarrassing.

I walked toward him, each step feeling heavier than the last. When I stopped a few feet away from him, my throat went dry.  He lifted his cup and took a sip of coffee, still not acknowledging me.

I swallowed.

“I… um…” My voice betrayed me.

He continued eating.

I clenched my fingers together.

“I came to apologise,” I finally managed, forcing the words out. “About last night.”

He said nothing. He calmly cut a piece of his food and placed it in his mouth.

The silence was unbearable.

I could hear the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the house. The sound of his fork against the plate. My own breathing.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” I continued. “I was upset. But that’s not an excuse. I overreacted.”

Still nothing.

My chest tightened. Was he ignoring me on purpose?

“Are you going to say something?” I asked before I could stop myself.

He dropped his fork suddenly. The sound echoed sharply against the plate and table, startling me.

He slowly wiped his mouth with a napkin before finally looking at me. His eyes were unreadable.

“I don’t mind your apology,” he said calmly.

I exhaled softly. Relief barely had time to settle before he continued.

“But there will be additions to the contract.”

My jaw tightened immediately. Damn it! Of course there would be.

“I see,” I said through gritted teeth.

He leaned back slightly in his chair.

“The food prepared by the staff doesn’t suit me,” he said casually. “It didn’t ease me.”

What kind of complaint was that?

“From now on,” he continued, “you’ll be in charge of my meals.”

I blinked.

That was it?

“That’s… all?” I asked cautiously.

He tilted his head slightly.

“For that part.”

Suspicion crawled up my spine. I should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.

“You’ll also dress in a maid’s outfit,” he added smoothly, “and prepare for what I intended to do last night.”

My brain froze.

“What?”

He didn’t look away.

“Or I cancel the contract.”

The words landed like a slap.

“You’re insane,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “You’re actually crazy.”

He shrugged lightly, as if we were discussing the weather. “It’s your stakes that are up, not mine.”

My hands curled into fists. I wanted to throw something. To scream. To remind him that he couldn’t just treat people like pieces in some twisted game.

But the contract… the contract.

I stared at him, trying to measure how serious he was. He wasn’t bluffing. That much was obvious. My thoughts raced. If he canceled it, I would lose my chance to earn and save up, while my father's medical bills would be stopped too.

Was my pride and  anger worth that? 

He watched me silently, clearly enjoying my internal struggle.

I hated him for that.

After a long moment, I looked away and inhaled sharply.

“You’re so unbelievable,” I muttered.

“I’ve been called worse.”

I cursed him in my mind with every word I knew.

He could see the annoyance in my eyes, and a small smirk appeared on his lips.

I wanted to wipe it off.

We begin by eleven.”

Game.

He stood up from the table, adjusting his sleeve like nothing important had just happened.

As he walked past me, he paused briefly.

“Don’t forget.”

Then he left.

A few seconds later, I heard the front door open and close. Silence returned.

I remained standing there, staring at the empty space he had occupied.

My heart was still racing.

“What have I gotten myself into?” I whispered.

I pulled a chair and sat down heavily.

Part of me was relieved the contract wasn’t canceled. Another part of me felt like I had just signed up for something far worse.

A maid’s outfit. His “game.”

I cleared the dishes and turned towards the kitchen, my mind running wild with thoughts.