Chapter 8: Damage Control

By the time it was noon, the house did not look as terrible as it did in the morning, but it still looked bad. It was no longer a total disaster, but it wasn’t clean either. It felt like a place stuck between disaster and peace—something like a waiting room for trouble.

The maids moved quickly and quietly, like ghosts floating through the halls. Nobody talked unless they really had to. I worked beside them, wiping red lipstick stains off the shiny marble counters. The strong smell from last night’s party still stuck to the curtains, and I tried not to breathe it in too much.

Mrs. Ravenwood had gone upstairs earlier, but even though she wasn’t in the room, it still felt like she was watching. The air felt tense, like no one wanted to make a mistake. Nobody even dared to breathe too loudly.

One of the older maids, a kind-looking woman with gray hair named Dorla, handed me a spray bottle of cleaning liquid. She whispered, “Use gloves. You’re bleeding.”

I looked at my hands. My knuckles were red and scraped, and the tips of my fingers looked sore and pink. “Thanks,” I mumbled and put on the gloves. The pain didn’t surprise me. I was used to it.

From the hallway, I suddenly heard the sound of laughter. It was low, deep, and clearly from men.

Ronan, Elias, and Darius.

Of course, they weren’t helping. While we worked hard to clean the mess, they were relaxing. They were all sitting in the theater room, watching something loud and probably dumb on the big screen. As I walked past the open door, I heard Elias joking, “If we get kicked out of the family, at least let it be for something wild.”

Then came more laughter.

I gritted my teeth and walked faster.

Kael wasn’t with them. He sat alone in the lounge with earbuds in, staring at his phone like nothing in the world interested him. He hadn’t said a single word since we started cleaning. I could still see lipstick on his neck.

Typical.

I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing dried vomit from the floor near the back patio door, when Mrs. Ravenwood came down the stairs again. She had changed clothes—now she wore a beige suit that looked sharp and serious. Her eyes were cold.

Walking behind her was a tall woman dressed in all black. She held a clipboard in one hand and had long nails painted blood-red.

She was the advisor.

“Damage control starts now,” the woman said. Her voice had no emotion. “We’re checking social media. Three girls posted pictures from last night. We’ve already paid two of them to delete their posts.”

Mrs. Ravenwood didn’t even look at me. “And the third?” she asked.

“She wants hush money and a signed bottle of wine from Darius.”

Mrs. Ravenwood sighed in frustration. “She’ll get the wine. Nothing else.”

The advisor wrote something on her clipboard. “Yes, ma’am.”

Suddenly, one of the maids dropped a vase, and it shattered on the floor.

Mrs. Ravenwood flinched. “God help me,” she muttered.

She marched into the living room, where the boys were now pretending to behave like they hadn’t been laughing just seconds ago.

“You,” she said, pointing at Elias. “Are you proud of this circus you created?”

Elias held up his hands like he was innocent. “I’m not proud… but I’m not ashamed either.”

She turned to Darius next. “Your father cannot know.”

Darius smirked. “He never does.”

“That’s because I protect you!” she snapped. “I clean up your mess before it reaches him. If he finds out what happened here last night—if he hears even one rumor—he will disown all four of you. Publicly. He’s already said that twice.”

Elias stood slowly. “So what’s the plan?”

“Stay inside,” she ordered. “Wear proper shirts. Do not flirt with the mayor’s daughter. Don’t touch her. Don’t breathe near her. Don’t even joke.”

“Sounds fun,” Ronan muttered under his breath.

Mrs. Ravenwood’s sharp eyes turned toward Kael, who was still sitting in the lounge, pretending not to care.

“Anything you want to say, Kael?”

He looked up slowly. “I didn’t throw the party.”

“You didn’t stop it either,” she said coldly. “Silence is the same as permission.”

Kael looked back down at his phone, saying nothing more.

Mrs. Ravenwood still hadn’t said a word to me. But I felt her cold gaze on my back. It felt like ice crawling up my spine.

The advisor cleared her throat. “The mayor’s car will arrive at exactly 6:00 p.m. The house must be perfect. No stains, no smell. No maids should be seen—except for the one assigned to the mayor’s daughter.”

I froze.

Mrs. Ravenwood slowly turned her head toward me.

Then she smiled.

But the smile didn’t look real. It was the kind of smile that scared you more than a frown.

“Aria,” she said sweetly.

My throat felt dry. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You will take care of the mayor’s daughter when she arrives. Dress nicely. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Don’t look her in the eyes.”

I nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am.”

She leaned a little closer, voice like a warning wrapped in sugar. “If she complains about you even once—just once—you will never work here again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said again.

And I meant it. Because I knew she wasn’t joking.

She turned back to the advisor. “Tell the chef to prepare three meal choices. Vegan. Pescatarian. And gluten-free. I don’t care what she picks. Just make it perfect.”

“Understood.”

“And for heaven’s sake,” she added, looking at Ronan, who was still shirtless and looking messy, “make these boys look like heirs, not a walking disease.”

That made Elias laugh.

But she shot him such a sharp look that he shut up instantly.

She clapped her hands at the maids and walked off to the dining hall to check the table decorations.

I returned to my cleaning. My hands were shaking inside the gloves.

One of the younger maids leaned toward me and whispered, “Do you think the mayor’s daughter will really come early?”

“She’s coming tonight,” I whispered back.

The maid looked nervous. “Then we’re all screwed.”

I didn’t answer.

Because I knew she was right.

We were.