All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Naive Maid: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

...Serene’s POV My sneakers slapped against the uneven sidewalk, each step a frantic beat against the late afternoon hum of the city.My backpack bounced against my spine, stuffed with library books and a crumpled tuition bill that mocked me from the side pocket. Finals were a week away, and my last year’s university fees—$8,000 still unpaid—loomed like a storm cloud. I needed money, and fast. A frustrated sigh escaped my lips as I clenched my fists around the straps of my bag pack. Valencia, my best friend’s, text had buzzed through my panic an hour ago: “Come quick! Julian’s here with news.” Valencia’s voice always carried a promise of hope, and I clung to it now, my breath fogging in the cool October air.I hoped for a good news, something that could help me with my unpaid tuition fees. Valencia’s apartment building came into view—a modest brick structure a few blocks from campus, nothing fancy but something her boyfriend, Julian, got for her. I smoothed my faded jeans as

...Serene’s POV “Serene,” he said, his voice a deep rumble that sent shivers down my spine. My heart pounded like a beating drum as I looked up at him. He stood tall, his gray eyes looking down at me making my cheeks to warm up. This all was too much. Her fantasies coming to life but …… did it had to be …… Nicholas? She gulped the lump formed in her throat. “Come here.”His gaze raked over me, lingering on my trembling lips. “Bend over the table,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “ Read the contract.”My breath caught, confusion and fear warring. “S-sir, I—” My voice failed, a squeak swallowed by the vast room. I couldn’t protest, couldn’t move, until he took a step forward. His hand guided my torso bending over the cold glass table. A paper lay there—neat, typed, ominous.“Read,” he commanded, stepping behind me.I felt goosebumps all over my body as my chest pressed against the cold glass table making me clench my thighs together. I pushed all thought

...Serene’s POVThe kitchen smelled of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee, a fragile shield against the storm brewing in my chest. I was standing at the counter, my hands trembling as I flipped eggs at 7 a.m., the penthouse silent except for the hiss of the pan. My heart pounded, a relentless drumbeat, my mind slipping back to last night—the room, the mirror, Nicholas’s voice commanding me not to touch myself. Thinking about the night made me feel tingles as I rubbed m legs together. I sighed, a shaky breath, and scolded myself under my breath. Focus, Serene. Just cook. But the memory of his hands, his dark chuckle, clung to me like a second skin.Footsteps echoed—slow, deliberate, sending shivers racing down my spine. I felt tiny, timid, as Nicholas Volkov strode into the dining area, his deep voice rumbling into a phone. “No, Christian, push the meeting. I’m busy.” He was a vision of power—black shirt unbuttoned at the collar, black hair perfectly styled, gray eyes sharp even

...Serene’s POV The red room pulsed with shadows, its satin bed a stark island in the dim light. I knelt on all fours, my palms pressing into the soft mattress, my skirt hiked up to expose my trembling thighs. My face buried in the sheets, muffling my ragged breaths, my black hair spilling like ink across the red fabric. Nervousness coiled tight in my chest, my body a live wire after disobeying Nicholas by entering this forbidden space. I was trembling in fear and my eyes hut tightly. The air was thick with his scent—cedar, bourbon, danger—and I felt him moving behind me, a predator circling its prey. My heart raced, anticipation and fear tangling into a knot I couldn’t unravel.A jolt shot through me as his hand landed on my ass, firm and deliberate, smothering my tender skin. I whimpered, the soreness from my first spanking still lingering despite the bruises fading under his ointment days ago. His touch was a slow burn, kneading my flesh, and my body jerked, a soft cry esca

...Serene’s POV The small tray in my hands felt heavier than usual as I climbed the grand staircase of Nicholas Volkov’s mansion, the coffee cup rattling faintly against its saucer. My slippers sank into the plush crimson runner, each step like a countdown to something I couldn’t name. The air was thick and it did little to calm the drumbeat of my heart. I was … scared. I was only bringing him his morning coffee—a simple task, one I’d done a few times since arriving as his maid. Yet every time I approached his bedroom, it felt like stepping into a lion’s cage.I paused outside the double doors. My knuckles hovered, trembling, before I finally mustered the courage to knock—softly, as if hoping he wouldn’t hear. No answer. I swallowed hard, my pulse thrumming in my ears, and pushed the door open.The bedroom was vast and shadowed despite the morning light filtering through heavy velvet curtains. A four-poster bed dominated one wall, its black silk sheets pristine and untouched.