Chapter 1 :Room 202

Dalia’s POV:

“Hello, good morning. I came here to visit a client’s unit,” I said, keeping my voice polite as I faced the American receptionist.

Her eyes flicked up and down, scanning me from head to toe.

Yeah — definitely judging me.

Can’t blame her though. My hoodie and jeans didn’t exactly blend with the sleek, glass-and-marble aesthetic of the condo building. Everyone else who walked in was dressed like they were heading to a board meeting. And there I was — the odd one out, hoodie zipped to my neck, sneakers slightly scuffed, hair tied in a messy bun.

Whatever.

I’ve been doing this house-cleaning gig for a year now, and those judgmental stares barely sting anymore.

It’s honest work.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

Though, well… not exactly legal.

But at least I’m no thief.

“Which unit?” the receptionist asked, her tone clipped but professional.

“Two-zero-two, under the name of Mr. Lucas Daniels,” I said, flashing my sweetest smile as I slid over my fake company ID.

She raised an eyebrow, checked it for all of two seconds, then handed me the logbook.

I exhaled quietly.

Thank God she didn’t ask more questions.

“Alright, just sign here. How long will you be staying?”

“Two hours only.”

“Okay. Leave your ID here — you can pick it up once you’re done.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

⸻

By the time I reached Room 202, my nerves had settled.

I dialed Jessie — my partner in crime, my best friend, my occasional moral compass.

“Jessie, I’m here.”

“Okay,” she said through the speaker. “Here’s the code:one-two-three-four-five-six.”

I stared at the digital lock of the unit.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. That’s really it.”

I stifled a laugh. “Wow. Took his girlfriend forever to give you that? Such a creative password.”

“Tell me about it. I was expecting something complicated — turns out it’s just lazy.”

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, tapping the numbers on the screen. The lock beeped, and the door clicked open. “You’re sure no one’s coming, right?”

“Relax. Madam said her fiancé’s on a business trip — he won’t be back until tomorrow. You’ve got the place to yourself.”

“Good,” I said, pushing the door open wider.

The unit was spotless — minimalist, modern, with the faint smell of expensive cologne lingering in the air.

“Oh, by the way,” Jessie continued, “after you’re done there, let’s go out. Dinner, maybe? You need a break.

“I can’t. I’ve got another gig after this.” I headed toward the kitchen, glancing around for a fridge. “Maybe next time.”

My throat was dry. I opened the fridge and smiled when I spotted a can of Pepsi. Jackpot.

“Dalia, you seriously need to slow down,” Jessie nagged through the phone. “You’re going to burn yourself out. You never rest.”

I popped the can open, took a long sip, and let the cold fizz hit my throat. “Mmm. Worth it.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, I’m listening,” I said between gulps.

“Take a break sometimes. You’re not going to be this strong forever.”

“I know. I’m just saving up. You know our situation.”

“That’s exactly why I keep telling you — talk to the attorney I mentioned. He can help fix your papers, just like he’s doing for me.”

I sighed. “Jessie, he’s asking for nearly a million pesos. You think I’ve got that kind of money lying around?”

“He’s legit, Dalia. He’s helped a lot of people become legal.”

“Or helped himself to their wallets,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.

But I didn’t argue. Not now.

“Anyway, I’ll call you later,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “I’ve only got two hours here. Don’t make me waste one talking.”

“Fine, fine. Just… be careful.”

I hung up, pocketed my phone, and looked around the pristine kitchen — marble counters, stainless appliances, the works.

Two hours.

Plenty of time.

I cracked my knuckles, took another sip of Pepsi, and got to work.

An hour had passed. As expected, I finished cleaning in no time. The room was already spotless—only the window glasses needed a final wipe.

The unit was a bachelor type, so there was only one room to deal with. Still, everything looked almost untouched. The bed sheet was so clean and pristine, it seemed as though no one had ever slept on it.

Or maybe no one really had. Jessie once mentioned that her client’s fiancé only came home once a month. Most of the time, the couple met up abroad.

That thought made me pause.

What’s the point of owning a condo if you barely stay in it?

All the bills—for maintenance, electricity, taxes—paid every month for nothing.

I could only shake my head.

The rich, I thought. They’re so rich they don’t even know what to do with their money.

All I could do was sigh and think, Sana all.

I glanced at my watch. Thirty minutes left.

I went to the kitchen to double-check the area. I’d cooked some noodles earlier, and I wanted to make sure I hadn’t left any trace behind.

When I was certain everything was spotless, I decided to head back to the living room.

But before I could take a step, a faint click echoed through the air—the sound of a door unlocking.

My heart skipped. I turned toward the living room.

And then I froze.

The lock on the door twisted, and in the next second, it swung wide open, revealing the tall, broad figure of a man staring back at me in surprise.

He was towering—so tall I had to crane my neck just to meet his eyes.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, voice deep and sharp.

“Ha—uh, I’m the cleaner,” I stammered, my voice trembling. “I came here to clean the unit…”

“Cleaner?” His brows furrowed, his jaw tightening. “And who the fuck told you to clean my house?” he growled.

My eyes widened. Oh, crap. He must be the owner—the fiancé of Jessie’s client.

Panic surged through me. From the way he looked at me—disgusted, confused, and clearly annoyed—it was obvious he didn’t appreciate finding me here.

“Tell me,” he barked, stepping closer, “who told you to come to my place without my permission?!”

“Wait, sir—please, I can explain…” I blurted out, stepping back in fear.

That’s when I caught the scent on his breath.

Alcohol.

Oh no… he was drunk.

“Yes, explain!” he snapped, his voice rough and slurred. “And make sure it’s believable—or else…”

He grabbed my arm, his grip tight and unsteady—but before he could pull me closer, his body wavered.

In an instant, his knees buckled.

And before I could react, he collapsed right in front of me.