CHAPTER 4: A SIGNATURE AWAY

 

MYRA

Uncle Hector turned out to be surprisingly easy to talk to. What started as a simple greeting became a conversation that lasted almost the entire ride. Between his stories about working for the Hilton family and my nervous attempts to make a good impression, I barely noticed how much time had passed.

"We're here, dear."

His voice pulled me back to reality.

I looked out the window and immediately forgot how to breathe.

Hilton Mansion.

I had seen pictures of it before. Magazines in the academy library occasionally featured the Hilton family, and their mansion was always included in those glossy articles about wealth and influence.

But pictures had done it no justice.

The massive gates alone were taller than my apartment building. Beyond them stood a mansion so enormous it looked more like a royal palace than a private residence. Perfectly maintained gardens surrounded the property, while elegant fountains sparkled beneath the morning sunlight.

Hilton Academy was only fifteen minutes away from here, yet the distance between my world and theirs felt immeasurable.

Most people could only dream of seeing this place.

Today, I was walking into it.

The limousine stopped in front of the main entrance. Before I could reach for the handle, the door automatically opened.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

This was really happening.

As soon as I stepped out, I noticed several staff members standing in neat rows near the entrance. They all wore matching uniforms and carried themselves with the kind of discipline I usually saw in military films.

Standing in the center was an older woman.

Her hair was neatly pinned back, and despite her age, there was something elegant and commanding about her presence. One look from her was enough to make everyone stand straighter.

I immediately bowed.

"Good morning."

She gave a small nod.

No smile.

No welcome.

Just a brief acknowledgment.

"Follow me inside."

Her voice was calm but cold.

Before I could respond, Uncle Hector leaned out of the driver's window.

"Good luck, dear."

His cheerful grin made me laugh despite my nerves.

"Thank you, Uncle Hector."

The older woman turned without another word, clearly expecting me to follow.

I hurried after her.

The moment we stepped inside, I nearly forgot where I was.

The mansion's exterior had been impressive.

The interior was breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Marble floors reflected the sunlight streaming through enormous windows. Elegant paintings lined the walls, while gold accents decorated almost every corner of the room.

Everything looked expensive.

Everything.

I suddenly became very aware of my old shoes.

The older woman continued walking until we reached a private office. She opened the door and entered.

I followed quietly.

The office was just as luxurious as the rest of the mansion.

A large desk sat near the window, while bookshelves filled one side of the room.

"Sit."

I immediately obeyed.

The woman settled into her chair and folded her hands neatly on top of the desk.

"Margaret informed me about you."

"Yes, ma'am."

Her sharp eyes studied me carefully.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she finally introduced herself.

"My name is Beatrice Villareal. I am the Head Maid of Hilton Mansion."

I straightened instinctively.

Something told me this woman wasn't someone to disappoint.

"I don't have time for lengthy interviews," she said. "We urgently need a personal maid for the Young Master."

The mention of Terrence Hilton immediately made me sit up straighter.

"However, there is something I need to know."

Her gaze sharpened.

"Are you prepared for this job?"

The question caught me off guard.

Not because it was difficult.

Because of how serious she sounded.

"This position will test you physically and mentally."

Her tone remained calm.

"Many maids have accepted this role."

A pause.

"Many have resigned."

I swallowed.

Somewhere inside me, nervousness clawed at my confidence.

Then I thought about Mom.

About Sophia offering me her hard-earned money.

About Noah, Liam, and Chloe.

About Dad.

About my scholarship.

My future.

One year.

I only needed one more year.

The nervousness disappeared.

"Yes, ma'am."

My answer came without hesitation.

"I'm ready."

Something flickered across her face.

Approval.

Perhaps.

Or maybe I imagined it.

"If you choose to proceed, there is no backing out."

She opened a drawer and removed a document.

"You will remain employed for one year."

Another document followed.

"You will receive a full scholarship at Hilton Academy."

My heartbeat accelerated.

Then another.

"You will receive a monthly salary equal to twice the standard rate."

I nearly stopped breathing.

"And you will stay in this mansion six days a week. Sundays will be your day off."

She slid the contract across the desk.

The paper stopped directly in front of me.

For a moment, the room became silent.

This was it.

The opportunity I had been praying for.

The answer to every problem that had kept me awake at night.

My scholarship.

My tuition.

My family.

Everything was right there.

Waiting for my signature.

I stared at the contract.

Then reached for the pen.

You can do this, Myra.

It's only one year.

One year for your future.

Without another second of hesitation, I signed my name.

The ink had barely dried when Beatrice closed the folder.

"There is one final thing."

I looked up.

For the first time since entering the room, the Head Maid's expression became difficult to read.

Almost as if she felt sorry for me.

"You will meet Young Master Terrence now."

Suddenly, signing the contract felt like the easy part.