LOGINJoan is a girl who's struggling to make ends meet and to pay for her mother's medical bills. A glimmer of hope appears when she gets invited for a job interview to work as a maid for the Stonewood family. Derrick Stonewood is a name that's well known. He's a billionaire and America's most eligible bachelor. However, he has a secret to his wealth. What happens when these two cross paths? Will they be able to keep their hands off each other? More over, what's the end result when business is mixed with pleasure?
View MoreJOAN'S POV
Sadness. Confusion. These were the emotions that filled my heart as I sat in the hospital room. My heart felt like a heavy weight in my chest, and my mind swirled with so many thoughts and emotions. I had no idea what to do. The beeping of the heart monitor filled the room. It was a reminder of my mother’s fragile state. Each beep was a signal that she was still here, but only just. I watched her, my heart breaking at the sight. Tubes and wires were attached to her limp body, her chest rising and falling shallowly. Her face, once so full of life, was now pale. Her lips were colorless, as she lay motionless in the hospital bed. It felt like only moments ago that I was job hunting and them the call came. The panic in the nurse’s voice told me everything before the words even registered. My mother had suffered a heart attack. The ambulance had rushed her here, but she had slipped into a coma. A lump formed in my throat as I gazed at her. She had always been my rock. Now, it was my turn to be strong for her, but I didn’t know how. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how far we had fallen. How had it come to this? I looked at the ceiling, trying to calm myself but it was no use. Hospitals were supposed to be places of healing, yet to me, they felt like prisons. The white walls, the harsh smell, the fluorescent lights—it all seemed designed to remind you of your sadness. The colour 'white' had always been so depressing to me. I sighed, wishing the walls could be a different color. Maybe then, this place wouldn’t feel so bad. I looked at my mom, feeling sad once more. She didn't deserve this. I wished there was something I could do to help. I had no money, no job, no way to pay for the treatment she needed. I’d spent all my savings trying to keep up with her piling medical bills, and now, there was nothing left. I had dropped out of school to take care of her, to work any job I could find. But even that wasn’t enough. I had a stable job once, as a secretary in a good firm. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills—until my boss decided that my body was part of the job description. I tried to tolerate it, to keep quiet for the sake of my paycheck, but the day his hand slipped under my skirt, I knew I couldn’t stay. I walked out, knowing I would be left with nothing, but at least, my dignity would be intact. Yet there were moments, when the fear of losing everything made me question if I should have just put up with it. I felt like a failure. My mother had always been so strong, so sure of herself, and I couldn’t even protect her now. My tears fell freely as I tried to think of a way out of this nightmare. Just then, the door opened, and I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to compose myself. A doctor entered the room with a serious expression. I noticed that the collar of his lab coat was stained with a faint smear of blood. It was almost unnoticeable, but I noticed it—just as I noticed everything. This habit of fixating on details overwhelmed me sometimes, adding to my anxiety. He glanced at me, then at my mother’s still form. “Miss Joan?” said “I’m Dr. Williams. I wanted to talk to you about your mother’s condition.” I nodded. My eyes were still glued to the blood on his coat. Who did it belong to? Was it someone else’s blood or his? Was that person still alive? I knew I should be paying attention to what Dr. Williams was saying, but my mind was desperate for any distraction. “Miss Joan?” Dr. Williams repeated, louder this time, snapping me back to the present. I sat up straighter, forcing myself to focus. “I’m sorry,” I whispered “Please, doctor, tell me—what can we do?” “As you know, your mother is currently in a coma. We can try different treatments, but they come with a cost.” His words made my heart drop even further. My pulse quickened, knowing that the answer I feared was coming. “What… what kind of cost are we talking about?” My voice trembled as I asked. “The initial treatment will cost around fifty thousand dollars, and that’s just the beginning. There will be follow-up procedures, medications, rehabilitation…” His words blurred as the numbers swirled in my head. Fifty thousand dollars? I didn’t even have fifty cents to my name. My hands trembled as I clutched the arms of the chair, trying to hold on to something. “I… I don’t have that kind of money,” I murmured “What am I supposed to do?” Dr. Williams looked at me with a sympathetic expression "I understand this is a difficult situation for you. We can explore financial assistance programs, maybe discuss payment plans, but… I won’t lie to you—it won’t be easy.” The tears I’d been holding back broke free again, streaming down my face. Why did life have to be so hard? Why did everything have to come down to money? “I’ll do anything, doctor,” I pleaded “Please, just help my mom. She’s all I have.” Dr. Williams nodded “We’ll do our best. We’ll find a way.” I sniffled, wiping at my tears with the back of my hand. “Thank you, doctor,” He gave me a small, sad smile before leaving the room, and I was alone again. I moved closer to my mother, taking her hand in mine. Her skin was cold. I had to do something. I couldn’t let money be the reason my mother didn’t get the care she needed. But what could I do? As I sat there, lost in thought, the door opened again. I turned, expecting the doctor, but instead, my best friend - Bea walked in. “Hi, sweetie,” Bea said softly. “I’m so sorry.” She crossed the room quickly and wrapped me in a hug. I held on to her tightly as I sobbed. When she pulled away, Bea looked at my mother with a sad, empathetic expression. She knew how much my mom meant to me, how hard this was she and my mom were close too. “How are you holding up?” she asked gently. I sighed “It’s been tough, Bea. I don’t know what to do. The medical bills are piling up, and I’m completely broke.” “I may have a solution to that,” I looked at her in confusion “What do you mean?” “Do you remember Stephanie?” Of course, I remembered Stephanie from College. She was one of those girls who seemed to have it all—wealth, beauty, and connections. Her father was a senator, and she had always carried herself with an air of superiority that made it clear she knew exactly how powerful she was. We had never been close; in fact, she had always looked down on me. “What about her?” I asked. “I talked to her, and she mentioned that there’s a job opening through her connections,” My heart leaped at the thought of a job, any job. “What is it?” “You know the billionaire Derrick Stonewood?” Bea continued. “His household is looking for a maid. But not just any maid—their maids are elite, highly paid. I managed to get Stephanie to secure a slot for you. The interview is in two days, at his estate.” She handed me an envelope. Inside was an invitation, an golden piece of paper, inviting me to an interview at the Stonewood estate. I stared at it, hardly believing what I was seeing. Derrick Stonewood. The name alone was filled with wealth, power, and luxury. He was a billionaire, the kind of man whose name appeared in tabloids and magazines. He was always in the news despite his low key lifestyle. His family had a long history of wealth, with businesses spanning everything from oil and gas to technology. And Derrick himself was famous for his good looks and his status as one of America’s most eligible bachelors. Could I really work for someone like him? Would I even be good enough? “Are you sure I can get this?” I muttered. “Hey,” Bea said, taking my hand and squeezing it. “Stephanie put in a good word for you. And besides, they’re going to love you. You’ve got this.” I looked down at the floor, feeling a bit doubtful. This was my chance, my one shot to change everything. I had to try, for my mom’s sake. I looked up at Bea “Thank you so much.” She smiled “Anything for you, Joan. Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.” And with that, I started to feel hopeful. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep going, enough to keep fighting for my mom. And as long as there was a chance, no matter how small, I wouldn’t give up.Viktor arrived at exactly the right time.He came in through the back entrance the way men like him always did - not because they were afraid, but because they liked the idea of arriving unannounced.He was tall, pale, with silver hair and cold grey eyes that moved around the room before he had taken three steps.Viktor Kasarov. He was one of the most discreet arms suppliers operating between Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean. He didn't advertise. He didn't negotiate over phone lines. He met in person, always in neutral cities, always in places that didn't keep records. His inventory was exceptional. His prices were high. His patience was limited.He slid into the booth across from me, extending his hand.I shook it."Stonewood," he said."Viktor." I nodded toward the bottle. "Drink?""I don't drink during business." He folded his hands on the table. "I appreciate the gesture."Santi had already placed the documents between us - A proposed order.Viktor looked at it for a few secon
DERRICK’S POVThe bar I came to was the kind of place that didn't exist on any map.There was no sign above the door, no name on the window. It had just a heavy black door hidden at the side of a building in downtown Milan, guarded by men who didn't smile and didn't ask questions.Inside, the lighting was low and amber. Jazz played from somewhere in the back. The whiskey here cost more than most men made in a week, and the people who sat in the leather booths knew things that could start wars.I fit right in.I sat at the far end of the private lounge with my back to the wall the way I always preferred it.It was an old habit. You never let anyone get behind you.The booth was large enough to fit six people, but tonight it was just the three of us - me, Santi, and Ace - and a half-empty bottle of Macallan 25 that I had been working through since we landed.The glass in my hand was cold. I turned it slowly, watching the amber liquid catch the light.I wasn't drunk. I didn't get drunk.
JOAN’S POVBea sat back down, still fuming. "Who does she think she is? Talking to people like that."I sighed and reached over to squeeze her hand. "It's okay, Bea. That's just how Sarah is. Don't let her get to you."Bea shook her head. "She's rude. I don't like her.""I don't either," I admitted. "But there's nothing I can do about it. Let's just focus on the wedding, okay?"Bea nodded, but I could tell she was still upset. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Okay, fine. Let's keep going."We were in the middle of looking at flower arrangements when there was a knock on the door. I looked up to see Santi standing in the doorway. He had his usual stoic expression on his face."Miss Joan," he said in his deep, calm voice. "Sir Derrick asked me to inform you that he will call you later this evening."My heart skipped a beat. Derrick wanted to talk to me?I swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Santi."Santi nodded and turned to leave, but before he could, Bea let out a
JOAN’S POVI woke up that morning feeling like something inside me had shattered into a million pieces.My eyes opened slowly, and for a few seconds, I just stared at the ceiling. I turned my head to look at the clock on the nightstand. It was 7:23 AM. I had barely slept three hours.How could I sleep after what happened last night?My chest tightened as the memories came flooding back. I remembered everything - Derrick's office. His cold, commanding voice. The way he had touched me, controlled me, made me feel things I didn't want to feel. The way he had dismissed me afterward like I was nothing, like I meant nothing.I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the blanket over my head, trying to block it all out. But it was useless. Every single detail was burned into my mind. I could still smell his cologne. I still remembered the feel of his hands on my skin, the sound of his breathing, the look in his eyes when he dismissed me. I felt my stomach twist with shame.I had stood there and
JOAN’S POVAfter dinner, I went straight to my room. I was exhausted. Dinner was a rollercoaster and all I wanted to do was crawl into my bed and sleep.However, that wasn’t possible. Because all of a sudden, there was a knock on my door.I groaned “Who is it?”“It’s me” Emily’s voice came from out
JOAN’S POVThe dining hall was filled with the sounds of voices and the clinking of silverware.Every sound seemed louder than usual to me. Maybe it was because Derrick was sitting right beside me or maybe it was because his hand raised up my skirt.I swallowed hard. What the hell was he doing?His
JOAN’S POVPeople talk as the remaining courses are served. My nerves buzz under my skin. Why? Because I can feel Derrick’s eyes on me as I walk around, making sure everything is okay. I pretend not to notice but I do.I move around the table, making sure everyone has what they need. Still, my awa
JOAN’S POVDinners in this household were always tense. Tonight was no different.Derrick sat beside me, cold and stiff. His shoulders were squared as if the very act of sharing the same chair space as me was some sort of punishment. His jaw was tight, clenched. I pretended not to notice, but I did






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