The Silver Spoon and the Servant

Edward kneels down slightly, studying the painful burn spreading across her pale skin.

Edward finally turns his head toward them. His cold eyes carry a frost so bitter it stops everyone in their tracks.

"I do not remember asking for your permission, Mr. and Mrs. Vance," Edward states smoothly.

Richard's face darkens to a deep purple.

"Our families have discussed this marriage alliance for months! You cannot simply throw it away!"

"My parents discussed it," Edward corrects him, adjusting his cuffs. "I never agreed to any of it."

Vanessa steps forward, feigned tears gathering at the corners of her eyes as she tries to adopt a fragile act.

"Edward... please. Are you doing this just because I had to discipline a troublesome servant?"

"Discipline?" Edward repeats, his voice dropping into a dangerous, dark register. His eyes flick briefly toward the raw, reddened cheek on Sofia's face.

"You physically assaulted a defenseless person over a spilled bowl of soup."

"It was an accident! She bumped into me!" Vanessa lies desperately.

"No," Edward cuts her off coldly. "You made it happen."

Vanessa's heart skips a violent beat. For the first time, sheer panic pierces through her anger. He saw everything.

"You deliberately nudged the bowl with your elbow," Edward continues, stepping closer.

"Then you humiliated someone who could not fight back just to feed your own twisted vanity."

The dining room falls into a suffocating, dead silence. Along the perimeter of the hall, the remaining servants stand frozen against the walls, their eyes wide.

None of them have ever seen anyone call out Vanessa's cruelty before—especially not a man powerful enough to wipe the Vance family off the corporate map overnight.

Edward turns slightly toward his assistant.

"Daniel. We are leaving."

Daniel bows his head instantly.

"Yes, Mr. Dallion. Right away."

Edward offers her his hand.

"Come with me."

Sofia shrinks back instinctively, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"M—Me? Sir... I—I cannot."

"Why not?" Edward asks calmly.

"I... they will not allow me," Sofia stammers, bowing her head toward the floor. "I am not allowed to leave..."

Vanessa lets out a sharp, bitter laugh.

"See? Hear it from her own mouth! Even the filthy creature knows her place!"

Edward takes two slow, deliberate steps until only a foot of space separates him from the kneeling girl. His voice softens into a low tone meant only for her.

"Now you do not belong here."

Those words strike Sofia harder than any physical blow she has ever endured.

She has lived inside these oppressive walls for almost her entire life. She cooks. She cleans. She obeys. She bleeds. She endures.

She has never once dared to imagine that there is a world beyond this mansion.

"You are not going anywhere!"

Mrs. Helen, the head housekeeper, suddenly lunges forward and grabs Sofia forcefully by the arm, dragging her back. The older woman's fingernails dig painfully into Sofia's tender skin.

"She is property of the Vance household! She owes years of labor to this family!"

Edward's eyes narrow into dangerous slits.

"Property?"

Mrs. Helen catches the terrifying glint in his eyes and instantly releases Sofia's arm as if she has been burned.

"I—I mean... she has a work contract, sir!"

"There is no law in this country that allows one family to own another human being," Edward says, his voice slicing through the air like a sword.

"If she chooses to resign her position today, physically preventing her from leaving this property constitutes unlawful restraint and kidnapping. My legal team is on standby to file criminal charges within five minutes."

"What is the meaning of this?" Richard's face stiffens completely.

"Are you threatening the Vance family with legal action inside my own home?!"

Vanessa clenches her fists so tightly her manicured nails cut into her palms. She has never been humiliated like this in her entire life. Unable to control her fury, she suddenly marches straight toward Sofia.

"You ungrateful, treacherous little bitch—!"

Before Vanessa can step within two feet of Sofia—

Step. Step.

Two towering bodyguards clad in black suits step swiftly into her path, forming an impenetrable wall of steel. Their faces are devoid of any emotion as they glare down at her.

Vanessa freezes instantly. Those men. They are former elite special forces soldiers—men whose absolute loyalty belongs only to Edward Dallion.

For the first time in her life, Vanessa Vance realizes she is powerless. She cannot touch Sofia.

Edward ignores the commotion behind him and extends his open hand once more to the frightened maid.

"Come with me."

Sofia stares at his outstretched palm in shock. In her twenty-four years of existence, no one has ever offered her a helping hand. Not when she fell down the stairs.

Not when she cried herself to sleep in the cold dark. Not when she bled for this family.

Slowly... tremblingly…

She places her rough, bruised fingers into his warm, broad hand.

Edward closes his fingers gently around hers and pulls her effortlessly to her feet.

Sofia's knees wobble from kneeling so long on the cold marble, but Edward steadies her without a word.

Without casting a single backward glance at the screaming Vance family, Edward leads Sofia toward the exit doors.

As they pass the corridor, the other servants secretly watch from the shadows. Some quickly wipe away tears of joy for her, while others exchange utterly stunned glances.

Outside, the cool evening air brushes against Sofia's face, strangely soothing against her burning cheek.

The long line of black luxury vehicles idling in the driveway gleams under the moonlight.

Edward walks her to his customized Maybach and pulls open the heavy rear door himself.

Sofia hesitates at the threshold, her eyes wide.

"I... I have never ridden in a car like this before, sir. I am afraid I will ruin the seats..."

"You will get used to it," Edward replies simply.

"I do not think I ever will," Sofia whispers back honestly.

A faint, hidden smile tugs at the corner of Daniel's lips as he watches from the driver's side.

Edward waits patiently, holding the door open. After an agonizing moment of doubt, Sofia carefully climbs into the back seat.

The plush leather seats are softer than any bed she has ever lain on. She sits rigidly on the very edge of the seat, terrified that her faded uniform might leave a smudge.

Edward steps in beside her, and the heavy door shuts with a quiet, solid thud, sealing them away from the outside world.

The convoy slowly rolls forward, gliding through the open iron gates of the Vance estate. Through the heavily tinted window, Sofia watches the towering gates grow smaller and smaller until they vanish into the darkness.

She keeps expecting someone to chase them down—to drag her back to the basement, to tell her she is just dreaming.

But no one comes. The gates remain open.

A heavy, lingering silence fills the luxurious, soundproof cabin. Finally, gathering every ounce of courage left in her body, Sofia turns her head toward the imposing man beside her.

"Mr. Dallion...?"

Edward turns his gaze to her.

"Yes?"

"Why... why me?" Sofia asks, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Why would someone like you do this for someone like me?"

Edward studies the raw burn on her cheek and the deep exhaustion in her eyes before answering.

"I need a wife."