I tried to explain, but as I bowed my head in apology, I felt something catastrophic happen. One by one, the buttons on my blouse snapped open with loud, brutal pops. They flew off like bullets, ricocheting across the floor with an agonizing clatter that seemed to echo through the hall. I froze, my face going white as the room fell into stunned silence.

Time seemed to slow as I stood there, mortified beyond belief. I wished I could vanish, shrink into the shadows, anything to escape the burning stares of the others. The whispers started immediately, like poison spreading through the room.

"She must've done it on purpose," one maid muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of maid dresses like that?"

But I caught something else. A quick glance between two of the maids near the back wall—Margaret and another girl whose name I didn't know. Margaret's lips twitched upward for just a split second before she smoothed her expression back to fake concern. The other girl was trying not to smile.

They knew. They fucking knew this would happen.

Tears burned in the back of my eyes, but I couldn't let them fall. I couldn't show weakness. I clenched my fists at my sides, my heart pounding in my chest.

Madam Veronica's gaze flicked over me one last time, her disgust obvious. "Pathetic," she sneered, before turning sharply on her heel and storming off, leaving me standing there in the aftermath of my embarrassment, the scattered buttons at my feet like evidence of my failure.

My face burned with humiliation, and for the first time, I felt the walls of Valtier Mansion close in around me, suffocating me under the weight of everything falling apart.

*

Lately, I couldn't shake the feeling that this place was actively trying to destroy me. Every single thing I did seemed to go wrong, and the weight of my failures pressed down harder with each passing day. But I couldn't afford to let it show. I had to prove them all wrong—especially him.

That evening, I found myself once again standing in the main dining hall, ready to serve Duke Cassius and his guests. My hands trembled slightly as I carried the tray of food, hoping this time nothing would go to hell. I had to get through this dinner without another disaster.

When Duke Cassius requested more wine, I froze for a moment, unsure if I'd heard him correctly. His voice was low, cutting, as it sliced through the air.

"Is there a problem, Lana?"

His tone was calm, but there was an icy edge to it that made my stomach drop. I couldn't even look him in the eye as I stammered, barely able to control the anxiety bubbling up in my chest.

"W-what would you like, Your Grace?" I whispered, feeling tiny beneath his gaze.

"Wine," he replied, his words sharp and deliberate. "And don't make me wait."

I nodded quickly, my heart hammering in my chest as I rushed toward the cellar. My hands were sweaty, fumbling as I searched for the correct bottle. I had to get this right. I couldn't afford another screw-up. I finally found the bottle he wanted and rushed back, praying I could make up for my earlier disasters.

But as I entered the dining hall, I was met with his gaze—cold, calculating, and relentless. He didn't need to say a word to make me feel like I was under a microscope. His eyes bored into me, picking apart my every move.

"You're too slow," he said, his voice colder than before. The words hit me like a slap, sharper than the previous reprimand. The sting spread through me, making my breath catch in my throat.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady but failing miserably. The words came out almost breathless.

His eyes never left me as I stood there, waiting for the next blow, the next humiliation. I felt utterly exposed, like I was standing before him without any armor. My flaws felt magnified under his scrutiny, and I couldn't escape his gaze.

"Is there anything else you require, Your Grace?" I asked hesitantly, my voice trembling, desperate to salvage some shred of my dignity.

His gaze lingered on me for a beat longer, his eyes unreadable. Then they flicked down to the wine I had brought, and the air seemed to freeze between us.

"That uniform you're wearing..." he murmured slowly, his words hanging in the space between us. I froze, unable to move or even breathe. The heat rose to my cheeks, and I could feel my heart pounding in my throat.

What was he going to say next? The tension in the room was unbearable, crushing me. I was trapped, every breath more difficult than the last.

*

My heart thundered in my chest as I dropped to my knees in front of Cassius, the weight of his gaze pressing down on me. The room seemed to shrink, and I knew that one more mistake would cost me everything. I had no choice but to grovel.

"I'm sorry, Duke," I said hurriedly, my voice shaking like crazy. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes, afraid of what I might see. "I'll have the uniform properly tailored tonight. Please don't send me away. I...I really need this job."

I knelt before him, my eyes glued to the floor, my hands trembling as they rested on my thighs. The silence stretched out forever, thick with tension, and all I could hear was the slow, deliberate rhythm of his breathing. The faint clink of his glass against the desk sent a shiver down my spine, making the unease in my stomach worse.

When I finally dared to glance up, I met his gaze—sharp, calculating, and colder than ice. It felt like he could see through me, stripping away every defense, leaving nothing but my raw vulnerability exposed. My breath caught in my throat as he slowly lowered his head, taking a deliberate sip of wine, his eyes never leaving me.

"Lana," he murmured, his voice smooth and low, but carrying an unmistakable edge of authority. "Be mindful of your appearance. It can be...distracting."

His words felt like a whip cracking through the air, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. Panic gripped me as I glanced down and realized with horror that the safety pin holding my dress together had come undone. I froze for a moment, my pulse spiking as the fabric clung awkwardly to my body, exposing way too much.

Heat flooded my face, and my breath quickened as I grabbed the sides of my dress, desperately trying to cover myself. My fingers fumbled over the fabric, but I couldn't stop the wave of mortification that washed over me, my entire body trembling with embarrassment.

"My apologies, Your Grace," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath, the shame threatening to swallow me whole. "I'll fix this immediately and return once it's taken care of."

I could feel his eyes on me as I hastily scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears. Every movement felt clumsy, rushed, and all I wanted was to disappear. I turned and fled from the room as quickly as I could, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the hollow silence.

I closed the door behind me, trying to mask the chaos within. But once I was out of his sight, my legs gave way, and I leaned against the cold stone wall, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. My chest heaved with the effort to steady myself, but the frantic beating of my heart refused to calm.

"Oh, god," I whispered, clutching my chest, trying to ground myself. But the world seemed to spin around me, every second a reminder of how badly I was screwing this up. The sharp sting of humiliation still burned under my skin, and the taste of it lingered in my mouth.

As I tried to catch my breath, I heard voices from around the corner—hushed but excited.

"Did you see her face?" It was Margaret's voice, barely contained laughter bubbling underneath. "When those buttons started popping off?"

"You're brilliant," the other maid giggled. "Cutting the threads just enough so they'd hold until she bent over. And switching her uniform for that tight one? Perfect."

"She deserved it. Coming in here thinking she's special because she's Rosa's niece. Well, now she knows her place."

My blood went cold. There it was. Confirmation of what I'd suspected but hoped wasn't true. They were actively sabotaging me. This wasn't just bad luck or my own clumsiness—they wanted me gone.

I pressed my back harder against the wall, trying to make myself invisible as their footsteps faded down the hall. My hands were shaking now, not just from embarrassment but from anger. Pure, burning rage.

I had no idea how I would survive in this mansion. But one thing was certain: I would have to be more careful than ever, or I would be destroyed by this nightmare.

And now I knew exactly who my enemies were.