CHAPTER 4 WELCOME HOME MRS K

CHAPTER 4: WELCOME HOME, MRS. K

My hand trembled as I placed it in Mr. K's. His palm was warm... surprisingly warm for someone whose words could cut like ice.

"Welcome home..." he said quietly. "...Mrs. K."

The word  home settled heavily in my chest, because home to me was a small wooden house in Maguindanao, where the roof leaked whenever it rained and Lola would place old pots on the floor to catch the water. Home smelled of freshly cooked arroz caldo and the jasmine flowers growing outside our window.

This house had towering black gates slid open without a sound, revealing an enormous mansion that looked as though it belonged in a magazine. Warm golden lights spilled from every window, illuminating perfectly trimmed hedges, marble fountains, and gardens so immaculate they looked untouched by human hands.

I stared through the car window, unable to blink. The car rolled to a smooth stop beneath a massive stone portico supported by towering white columns. Before the driver could step out, the grand front doors opened.

Two women dressed in elegant black-and-white uniforms walked down the steps together. They bowed the moment Mr. K stepped out.

"Good evening, Sir." Then they turned toward me. "Good evening, Ma'am."

My mouth opened automatically. "I'm not..." I paused, remembering Mr. K 's rules. "Good evening."

Mr. K didn't acknowledge the greeting. He simply handed his car keys to another employee who had appeared out of nowhere.

"Show Mrs. K to the guest wing," he instructed.

"Yes, Sir." I frowned.

"The guest wing?" His dark eyes met mine. For the first time since we'd signed the contract, I thought I caught the faintest trace of amusement in them.

"Did you think we would share a room?" he asked

"No." I answered nervously.

"Good." His expression returned to its usual unreadable mask. "Don't flatter yourself, Miss Reyes." The words landed harder than I expected.

"I wasn't." I answered in a low voice.

"I certainly hope not." He turned and disappeared deeper into the mansion without another glance.

The older maid gestured politely. "This way, Ma'am." I followed her inside.

The cool marble beneath my shoes reflected the glow of a breathtaking crystal chandelier that hung several floors above us. Every footstep echoed through the enormous entrance hall.

"This house is..." I couldn't even finish the sentence and the maid smiled knowingly.

"Beautiful?" She laughed softly.

"Many guests say the same thing" she replied.

As we walked, I noticed expensive paintings covering nearly every wall. Some depicted landscapes while others showed stern-looking men and women dressed in clothes from another era.

"They're his family?" I asked.

"Yes, Ma'am." I slowed in front of one portrait. The man in the painting had the same sharp jawline and he looked enough like Mr. K to be his father.

We continued down a long hallway lined with fresh flowers arranged in crystal vases. Everything smelled faintly of polished wood, expensive candles, and lilies. Nothing was out of place and not a single crooked picture frame.

"This house must take forever to clean." I commented.

"There are twelve of us," the maid replied.

"Twelve?"

"House staff." she answered and I nearly stumbled.

"Twelve people work here?"

"Not including the gardeners, security personnel, and drivers." I stared at her.

Lola and I had spent years trying to survive on almost nothing. Meanwhile, this man employed enough people to fill an entire classroom.

The maid led me up a sweeping staircase. The handrail gleamed beneath the lights, polished to perfection. The second floor was quieter and the thick carpets muffled our footsteps, making the hallway almost eerily silent.

She stopped before double white doors. "This will be your room, Ma'am." She pushed the doors open and I stood frozen.

A king-sized bed sat in the center beneath a crystal light fixture. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the gardens outside. Cream-colored curtains swayed gently in the evening breeze coming through a partially opened window.

To the left was a sitting area complete with a fireplace, to the right stretched a walk-in closet larger than my bedroom back home. Beyond another doorway lay a luxurious bathroom with a deep soaking tub, twin sinks, a rainfall shower, and shelves filled with neatly arranged towels.

"This....is bigger than our entire house."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I don't know if 'like' is the right word." She smiled.

"If there's anything you need, simply ring the bell beside your bed."

"I don't need servants."

"You have them now." There was no arrogance in her voice. She gave another respectful bow before quietly leaving me alone.

Silence settled over the room, I walked toward the enormous window. Everything here felt unreal. It was like stepping into someone else's life.

I placed my small duffel bag on the bed. Its faded fabric looked embarrassingly out of place against the expensive bedding. I only owned three decent outfits and everything else was old, patched, or handed down.

A vibration pulled me from my thoughts, it was my phone. Unknown number. I frowned before opening the notification.

₱150,000.00 PHP has been deposited to your account. – St. Gabriel Medical Center

For several seconds, I simply stared, then I checked again, because the amount hadn't changed.

"He actually did it..." My voice cracked.

Lola's surgery could continue and she wouldn't be discharged because we couldn't afford the bills. Relief flooded through me so powerfully it hurt. But beneath that relief lingered another feeling, because I'd traded six months of my life for hers.

A gentle knock sounded at the door.

"Come in. The maid stepped inside with a sympathetic smile, pretending not to notice my red eyes.

"Ma'am, Sir requests your presence for dinner in thirty minutes."

I almost said no but I stopped myself. "I'll be there."

At exactly eight o'clock, I stepped out of my room. The hallway was silent.

The thick carpet swallowed every sound my footsteps made as I followed the maid downstairs. My gaze wandered over framed paintings, antique tables decorated with fresh flowers, and enormous windows overlooking the gardens.

The dining room doors opened before I reached them. A table long enough to seat twenty people stretched across the room. Crystal glasses sparkled beneath another breathtaking chandelier, while silver cutlery had been arranged with military precision.

At the far end sat Mr. K. He had removed his suit jacket, leaving him in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. A glass of red wine rested beside him, untouched.

He didn't look up immediately, instead, he continued reading something on his tablet. The maid pulled out my chair.

"Thank you," I whispered. Mr. K finally lifted his head.

"You're on time."

"I didn't want to break another rule." His lips twitched ever so slightly.

"I'm glad you're learning."

Within seconds, servants appeared from different doors carrying dish after dish. The table was covered with enough food to feed my entire neighborhood back home.

"You expect two people to eat all of this?" I asked.

"It's prepared every evening."

"Every evening?"

"Yes."

"But... it's impossible to finish."

"It isn't meant to be." I frowned.

"Then why make so much?" He looked at me for a long moment before answering.

"Because I can." His response irritated me more than it should have.

One of the servants poured soup into my bowl. I picked up the spoon carefully.

Unfortunately...I picked up the wrong one. Before I could take a bite, Mr. K quietly reached across the table and exchanged it for another spoon.

"There." Heat flooded my cheeks.

"I..."

"The outer spoon is for the soup."

"I know." His eyebrow lifted.

"No, you don't."

"I don't eat dinner with six different spoons." For a brief second...He smiled, but it disappeared so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it.

"Neither do I," he said.

"What?"

"I didn't grow up caring which spoon was used."

"You didn't?" He shook his head once before taking another sip of wine.

"Tomorrow morning, we'll visit St. Gabriel." My stomach tightened.

"Lola."

"You'll spend an hour with her." My hearted lifted.

"Really?"

"You'll thank me by remembering your role."

I nodded eagerly. "I won't forget."

"Good." He placed his fork down.

"After the hospital, you'll meet a stylist."

"A stylist?"

"You'll need an entirely new wardrobe."

"I already have clothes."

"You have clothes." His eyes traveled briefly over my simple dress.

"They simply aren't suitable."

I glanced down at my clothes and saw nothing wrong with it.

"You don't have to insult everything I own."

"I wasn't insulting you."

"It sounded like it."

"I'm stating facts." I folded my arms.

"You really don't know how to talk to people."

The servants froze, one nearly dropped a plate and I mmediately regretted speaking.

Mr. K slowly looked up, his expression remained unreadable.

"You're probably right." I stared at him.

"...What?"

"I've been told that before." The room suddenly felt tense as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and removed a small black velvet box. Without a word, he slid it across the polished table. It stopped directly in front of me.

I opened it slowly, inside rested a diamond ring unlike anything I had ever seen. My breath caught.

"It's beautiful."

"Wear it." I hesitated.

"It must cost a fortune."

"It doesn't matter." His voice softened just enough to make me look at him. "People will be watching."

I carefully slipped the ring onto my finger, it fit perfectly. As though it had been made for me.

"How did you know my size?" His eyes met mine.

"I made sure." The answer sent an unexpected chill down my spine.

"There is one final rule."