(MATURE CONTENT) For beautiful Amara Channel Aragon, being wealthy was a privelege not everyone could have. Living a poor life wasn't on her vocabulary. Remaining wealthy was her life's passion. But Everything changed when her family cut her off for having a nasty attitude and being a brat. Amara was forced to work as a maid to a ruggedly handsome 36-year-old multi-billionaire, Mark Xavier Peralta. He had the devastating power to seduce Amara's senses, to make her shiver with emotions she dared not confess. Amara was paying more attention to his steamy seduction than the dangers than lies within him. Will she dare to indulge in dangerous pleasure with a dangerous man like Xavier? Or... Will she be able to control her own feelings?
View More"I don’t even know who you are anymore, Amara."
Her grandfather’s voice thundered across the room, his anger practically vibrating through the air. Amara let out an exasperated sigh and massaged her aching temple, trying to ease the pounding pain in her head. "We’ve given you everything. What more do you want from us?" Grandpa Herman continued his tirade, causing Amara to roll her eyes in frustration. "Seriously, Grandpa? It’s three in the morning. Can we not do this right now? I'm drunk and exhausted. Can you please just shut up and save the lecture for tomorrow?" She snapped, her tone dripping with defiance, which only fueled her grandfather’s rage. She didn’t bother avoiding her father's fiery glare either. "Your attitude is out of control, Amara. When are you going to learn some respect?" Her grandfather roared again, but Amara didn’t flinch. Instead, she plopped herself down on the plush designer sofa like she owned the world. "Oh please. What are you going to do this time? Ground me again? That’s not going to change who I am, Grandpa. Do your worst." She smirked arrogantly at him. "And can everyone please stop treating me like some kid? I’m twenty years old, legally an adult, and I can do whatever the hell I want. And it’s not like this is the first time I’ve been to a party. You’re all so dramatic!" She flopped back on the sofa like it was a bed, groaning from her splitting headache. How many shots did she take tonight? "Could someone get my bodyguard to carry me to my room? I’m dizzy and not walking another step." She waved her hand lazily at her grandfather like he was a servant. Amara had just closed her eyes when her father’s furious voice rang out. "Goddamn it, Amara, this is insane! Who the hell do you think you are, bossing your grandfather around like that? Get up! Now!" "Ugh, Dad! If you don’t want Grandpa to do it, then you do it. Either way, can you all just shut up? My head is killing me!" She snapped, still not opening her eyes, too annoyed to care. "I said get your ass up, Amara! Don’t be disrespectful!" Her father yelled again, yanking her arm roughly. "Ow! What the hell, Dad?!" "Go to your room. Now. And tomorrow, you're going to regret this." His voice was filled with warning as he dragged her up and shoved her toward the stairs. Amara stomped her feet like a brat before storming up, only to be stopped by her grandfather again. "Seriously? You people are nuts! You want me to go upstairs, now you’re stopping me again? What do you even want?!" She glared at her grandfather, utterly fed up. "I don’t even know where you got this kind of behavior, Amara. Starting tomorrow, you’re not allowed to leave this house without my permission. And from now on, you’ll speak respectfully to every single person under this roof. Are we clear?" Amara rolled her eyes again at his long-winded speech. "Yeah, yeah, whatever! You’re making so many rules in this house, Grandpa. What is this place, Hogwarts?" The next morning, Amara groaned and cracked one eye open at the loud, obnoxious knocking at her bedroom door. She tried to ignore it and drift back to sleep, but the knocking only grew louder—accompanied by the high-pitched voice of that annoying maid. "For the love of God, I’m still sleeping!" She yelled. "Miss Amara, the sun is high already! You’ll be late for your first day at work! Your grandfather insisted you get up early!" That only made her more irritated. "Get lost! And tell the old man to stop bothering me. I don’t want to work!" She pulled the covers over her head, but the knocking persisted. Cursing under her breath, Amara staggered toward the door, still half-asleep. Without even opening her eyes, she swung the door open and kicked the person on the other side. Only when she heard an old man groan in pain did she realize her mistake—followed by her father’s furious voice booming behind him. "You’ve crossed the line, Amara!" "Geez, sorry! I thought it was Marie waking me up again! Why are you standing at my door, Grandpa?" She asked, annoyed but not exactly remorseful. "You’ve pushed us too far this time, Amara. You're completely out of control, and we don’t know what else to do with you." Her father glared at her while helping Grandpa Herman up. "What now? I didn’t mean to kick him! Maybe don’t barge in on people who are trying to sleep? And I told you—I don’t want to go to work! What would I even do there, just sit around like an idiot?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "What the hell is going on now? Why are you all yelling this early?" Her mother, Carly, rushed over, worry etched on her face. "I don’t know what to do with her anymore, Carly. Her attitude is completely out of line! She's not a teenager, but she acts like a spoiled little brat! She’s disrespectful, ungrateful, and she doesn’t even show basic manners to us!" Her dad was red in the face from shouting, and Amara just rolled her eyes. "Amara, sweetheart, what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? We gave you everything. We raised you well. Where did we go wrong?" Her mom’s voice cracked with tears. "Oh my God, can we skip the drama? It's way too early for this." She muttered with no sympathy. "That’s it. Carly, get the maids. Tell them to pack Amara a small bag of essentials. After that, she’s out. I want her out of this house." Her grandfather’s voice was deadly serious. Amara and her mom both froze. "What, are you shipping me off to China now?" She snapped. "No, you’re not going overseas. I’m done with you, Amara. I want you gone. Leave—and don’t come back until you’ve grown up and fixed that attitude." Her grandfather’s eyes blazed with fury, and Amara’s world tilted. "What the hell? You’re cutting me off? Are you serious right now?" Her voice shook, fear and disbelief slowly creeping in. "Mom, do something! I don’t want to leave!" "Don’t pull your parents into this, Amara. We’ve already talked. There’s nothing they can do now. Hand over all your credit cards, passbooks, and every single penny in your wallet—including coins. You’re not taking the car, the condo keys, or any of your luxuries from this house." Her grandfather's harsh decree shattered whatever was left of Amara’s pride as her tears finally fell. She is Amara Channel Aragon—the only daughter of Carly and Tim Aragon, sole heiress to their legacy and several family businesses, and the beloved granddaughter of billionaire Herman Aragon. And in the blink of an eye, everything was gone. All she had left was a meager savings account that probably wasn’t even enough to buy a single pair of shoes from her favorite designer store. She was screwed."What the hell are you doing to yourself, girl? Out of all the things to break, why your hand?"Although Amara grimaced from the pain, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the elderly doctor who was attending to her."I mean, where else would I break, doc? My neck?"Her sarcastic, snarky response made Xavier, who was with her at the hospital, sigh in frustration. The doctor fell silent for a moment.The doctor was just trying to be friendly and build some rapport with his patient, but Amara knew she was being difficult. And now she felt bad about it.Seeing the doctor’s reaction, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. She knew she had a bad attitude, probably since birth, but she didn’t need to be rude all the time.Well, at least she recognized that…"I- I’m sorry, doc. It’s just that it hurts so much. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’re just trying to help..."She apologized softly, her tone filled with regret. She immediately felt a bit better when she saw the doctor smile."
Amara nearly doubled over in pain as her boss started massaging her injured right hand. The pressure was unbearable—she honestly thought she might pee herself from the sheer pain. She wanted to cry so badly, but held it in, knowing that the devil himself—Xavier—would only tease her for it.“O-ow…”She whimpered as he gently pulled on her wrist. He shot her a sharp look, which she boldly returned without flinching.“This is just a mild fracture. I don’t think anything’s actually broken. Stop acting like such a baby,” he said flatly.Amara glared at him, clearly offended, and snapped back almost shouting, “It hurts! Would you like to switch places and have your bones cracked?”She nearly burst into tears as Xavier deliberately pressed harder, making her squirm.“Ow! Can you please be gentle? Honestly, I don’t even think you know what you’re doing. Can you just take me to a doctor?” she pleaded, eyes glossy with tears.This was the first time she'd ever hurt herself this badly. She knew
“Are you freaking insane?!”Amara’s eyes were wide with disbelief as she stared at Xavier, who still refused to meet her gaze. And she knew exactly why.She was wearing a damn costume—one clearly meant for sex play.Just thinking about it made her feel like a complete idiot. Embarrassed didn’t even begin to cover it, and that feeling made her even more furious.Of all the stupid pranks her annoying boss could’ve pulled, this was the one he went with? Seriously? He could’ve just made her clean the entire mansion or had her fill the pool with a cup of water. Honestly, she’d probably be even more pissed if he’d done one of those things—but at least she wouldn’t be this humiliated.“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you’d actually wear it,” Xavier muttered under his breath.Amara shot him a deadly glare and rolled her eyes so hard they could’ve fallen out of her head. He turned toward her only to frown in response, but she didn’t care. He had no right to be annoyed. This was his fault.“Oh
Amara’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as she stared—still stunned—at the black and white maid’s uniform Xavier, her kiss-happy boss, had handed her.But this wasn’t just any maid’s uniform.Nope. It was something else entirely.It was like Xavier took her sarcastic comment about the first outfit he gave her way too seriously—and decided to punish her in the most wicked way possible.Was this revenge?“Arrghhh!”Amara groaned and flopped back onto her tiny bed, thrashing like a frustrated teenager.She glared at the uniform again with full-on death stares, wishing it were an actual person—specifically, Xavier—so she could crush it to bits in a fit of righteous fury.Because seriously—one look at that outfit, and it was obvious it had zero intention of covering anything properly. It was scandalously short, looked like it ran out of fabric halfway through production, and the skirt flared out in a way that screamed K-pop idol meets adult fantasy. The top? Plunging neckline so de
Thirty minutes.It had already been thirty minutes since that damn kiss, but for Amara, it felt like it had just happened seconds ago.Xavier had nearly finished his breakfast, yet she still sat there looking like she’d seen a ghost.“Amara!”Xavier practically shouted her name, making her jump before she quickly turned to face him.“Y-Yes, sir?”She bit her lip nervously when she saw the irritated look he was giving her.“Will you stop zoning out? I’ve called your name, like, five times. You’re just standing there like an idiot.”He snapped at her. Amara rolled her eyes discreetly.“Well, excuse me for being distracted—you’re the reason I’m all spaced out in the first place…”She muttered under her breath as she approached his breakfast table.“How exactly is it my fault that you look exhausted and like you barely slept?”He scowled, clearly annoyed. Amara sighed dramatically and glared back at him.“What?”Xavier snapped again, and this time she stomped her foot in frustration.“Ugh
Amara had lost count of how many times she buried her head into the soft pillow she was hugging. One more knock and she was pretty sure she’d scream at whoever was disturbing her sleep.“Ughhh, so loud…”She grumbled irritably, pressing her face deeper into the pillow and covering her ears in hopes of blocking out the annoying knocking.A small smile tugged at her lips when the knocking finally stopped. She was just starting to drift back into sleep when—suddenly—someone had the audacity to yank the pillow right out of her arms. Startled, she shot up from the bed and glared at the intruder.Her angry scowl turned into an awkward, forced smile the moment she saw who it was: Mark Xavier Peralta, looking absolutely furious.“G-good morning,” she said sheepishly.He didn’t respond—just shot her a withering glare before glancing at the wall clock hanging in the corner of her ridiculously tiny room. Honestly, she was pretty sure her bathroom back home was bigger than this. Not that she was
“Are you even sure about this job you signed up for?”Amara let out a frustrated sigh as she heard Ken’s voice yet again. She’d lost count of how many times he had asked her that exact question.“Well, I don’t know, okay? I really don’t.I have no clue how to clean, cook, or serve anyone. People usually do those things for me.”She snapped dramatically as she struggled to zip up her old, worn-out bag. Of all the luxury travel bags she owned, why did they have to give her this beat-up thing that looked like it belonged to one of the housemaids?“If you don’t know how to do it, how do you expect to keep up the lie you told the housekeeper—”“I said I don’t know, Ken! God, stop nagging! You sound just like my grandpa and it drives me insane. I already told you—I. Don’t. Know. Okay?!”She snapped, completely irritated. What he was even doing in her room, she had no idea.“Instead of acting like my grandfather, how about you just take this bag downstairs?”She ordered, tossing the bag towa
Amara’s brows were practically fused together as she glared at her bankbook, desperately trying to remember how her $1,500 had dwindled down to zero.It hadn’t even been a full week since she got kicked out of her family’s house, and here she was—barely able to pay the delivery guy waiting outside with her lunch.“Staring at it won’t make the numbers go back up, Amara,”Ken joked, one of the guys she shared the dorm with.Normally, she’d ignore him just like she always did, but this time, she had second thoughts. She realized her next few meals—and possibly even her unpaid lunch today—might just depend on him. Especially with the delivery guy blowing up her phone with messages.“Uhm, hey... how’s your day going, Ken?”She asked sweetly, flashing him a seductive smile. His grin widened instantly.“Y-you know my name?” he stammered.“Of course I do, how could I not?” she purred. “You're looking really good today… hot, actually.”As she spoke, she casually ran her hand down his thigh. Sh
Amara froze in disbelief the moment she descended their grand staircase. Right there, waiting at the foot of the stairs, was a small, old luggage—something that looked like it belonged to one of the housemaids.“Very well, since you’re already here,” her grandfather greeted coldly, “hand over all your cards. And I mean everything, Amara.”She stared blankly, unmoving. She couldn’t bring herself to comply.She knew the moment she handed them over, it would be the end. No more safety net. No more second chances.“Stop fighting this, young lady. It’s useless,” her grandfather snapped. “I’ve made up my mind. You’re being kicked out.”When he stepped toward her, she instinctively clutched her designer handbag tighter—like her new-season Gucci tote could somehow save her from ruin.“No! Let go, Grandpa! These are mine!” she cried out, her voice cracking.Tears welled up as her grandfather yanked the bag from her grip. “You can’t do this! I need my credit cards, my bank books—how else am I s
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