Maya hurriedly unzipped her bag and pulled out the file. As soon as her eyes fell on the signed contract inside, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

It was real—a binding deal stating that Maya had willingly agreed to be contracted for an entire month, Contracted for $60,000. For the entire duration, she was obligated to follow every instruction given by the man who held the contract—Arman Shahriyar. And if she wanted out? She’d have to pay double—$120,000.

Her brain froze. Her hands trembled.

In a barely audible voice, she whispered,

“But.he tricked me into signing this. I never received the money. I was framed. I don’t accept this.

Arman:

“No, you didn’t get the money. But your manager did. What happened between you and your boss isn’t my business. Every condition was laid out on that paper. You signed it without reading? That’s on you—not me.

As he spoke, Arman pulled the contract from her hands. Maya stood frozen, numb. How could this be happening? How could she survive in the same house as this man—a man who once left her without even trying to build a life together? And yet… she had fallen for him.

But not anymore.

Without another second’s delay, she pulled out her phone and called her manager from the lounge. As soon as the line connected, her voice cracked with pain and rage:

“How could you do this to me? You tricked me into signing that contract!

Manager (on speaker):

“Whoa, what are you talking about, Maya?

 Maya (furious):

“I’m talking about the deal you made behind my back! You handed me over to Arman Shahriyar for a month—for sixty grand!

Manager:

“You knew we do paperwork here. For one-night gigs, no big deal. But when a high-profile client books for a week or more—we need contracts. You signed it. End of story.

Maya (pleading):

“I can’t go through with this. Please, give him his money back.

Manager (laughing in disbelief):

“Return $60k? That’s insane, Maya? Do you even realize what canceling this deal would mean? You’d owe $120k. You signed that clause yourself. If you didn’t read it—that’s your problem. And look at the bright side—you’re with Arman freakin’ Shahriyar. Most women would die for a chance like that.

Maya (quietly):

“So I’m just supposed to act like some maid in his house?

Manager:

“The contract says you must obey his terms. That includes whatever he says. So stop whining and start acting professional.

Before she could respond, the call ended.

Arman, who had been lounging on the couch and listening in while lazily blowing smoke into the air, stubbed out his cigarette and slowly walked over. He leaned in close to her ear, his voice icy cold:

Arman:

“Scared, Miss Maya Cole? Don’t be. I won’t touch you—I’ll just make you work. Remember what I said? I don’t go back to the same woman twice. You’ll be my personal maid. That’s all. Isn’t that what you were willing to do for your dreams? Don’t worry—you’ll get paid.

Maya closed her eyes, holding back tears.

Maybe this isn’t the worst thing, she thought.

At least I don’t have to be with strangers. Yes, it’ll hurt—being near the man I once loved. But I can handle pain. I’ve done it all my life. I can do it for my father. This is better than selling myself.

She exhaled slowly.

“I agree. Just tell me what to do.

Arman:

“Bravo. That’s what I like to hear. I haven’t had dinner yet. Go make it. I’ll call Reagan—she’ll show you around.

He called through the intercom, then returned to the couch with his laptop.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. When he called out, a young woman entered.

Arman:

“Reagan, meet Maya. Starting today, She’ll be filling in for you while you’re away. Show her the ropes.

Reagan (nervous):

“But. sir, if she replaces me, where do I go? My parents are sick.

Arman (cutting her off):

“Relax. You’re not being fired. I’m giving you a paid leave for a month. She’ll cover your duties. You’ll still get your check.

Reagan:

“But. I don’t need a break. I can still work.

Arman (sharply):

“I don’t repeat myself, Reagan. Do what you’re told. Now take her to the kitchen—she’ll cook my dinner.

He turned back to Maya.

“You’ve got thirty minutes. Do it on your own. Finish it on time.

Reagan gave Maya an apologetic glance and gestured.

“Please. follow me.

Maya silently walked behind her as Arman watched them disappear into the hallway. Then he placed his laptop on the coffee table, leaned back into the sofa, and let out a deep, conflicted breath.

Why did I buy her? To punish her? But for what?

His train of thought was broken by the buzz of his phone. A name flashed across the screen—Drew.

(Let’s meet Drew properly now.)

Drew is Arman,s personal assistant. Orphaned at a young age, he grew up with Arman—they attended the same college. Even after Arman moved overseas, they remained in touch. When Arman joined the family business, he brought Drew onboard. Though technically an employee, Drew is more like a brother. He now lives with Arman's family—at the insistence of Arman's grandfather.

Arman picked up the call.

Drew (excited):

“Congrats, man! The meeting was a hit. We sealed the deal!

Arman:

“Okay.

Drew:

“Okay?! That’s all I get? I just scored a million-dollar deal and you say okay? How about a thank you?

Arman (irritated):

“I don’t do thank yous. If you want, cancel the deal.

Drew:

“Dude, what is wrong with you today? You sound like someone kicked your cat.

Arman:

“Enough. Any update on Madison?

Drew (losing patience):

“I land a major deal, and it’s still ‘Madison this, Madison that’? You know what—your precious Forget Madison! She’s not worth all this.

Arman (furious):

“DREW! Watch your mouth!

Drew froze, realizing what he was about to say.

Drew (mumbling):

“Sorry. I’ll swing by later.

He hung up.

Arman clenched the phone in his hand but didn’t smash it. He tossed it onto the couch and collapsed onto the cushions, burying his head in his hands.

(At least Arman didn’t throw the phone on the floor. Progress has some sense. Unlike most drama leads, he throws his phone on the couch—not the floor. Growth! )