Serving My In-Laws

Madeline's POV

I didn't remember falling asleep, but when I woke, the warmth surrounding me was impossible to ignore. My cheek rested against something firm—steady—and as my eyes fluttered open, my breath caught.

Hunter.

I was snuggled into his chest, my leg curled over his waist, his arm draped protectively around my body. He was still asleep, his breathing deep and steady, his face softened in sleep in a way I'd never seen before.

And God help me… I smiled.

Part of me knew I should move—pull away and create the space this arrangement demanded—but I couldn't. I didn't have the heart to remove my leg or peel myself from his embrace. Being held like this, wrapped in his warmth, made me feel… safe. Cherished.

I closed my eyes again for just a moment, savoring the feel of his strong arm across my waist. His body heat, the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek—it all felt too perfect, too easy to get used to.

And then, in the soft stillness of the room, I felt it.

His lips brushed mine.

Once. Twice. Featherlight. Unmistakable.

He was pretending to sleep, but I knew. I felt him stealing kisses from my mouth—like I wouldn't notice. It didn't matter.

But it did.

Every stolen kiss meant something to me, even if he refused to admit it. Even if he insisted this was all for show, for appearances. I mattered to him, whether he liked it or not.

I stayed still, not wanting to ruin the moment, but my heart beat faster with every second.

And then… he moved.

Carefully, slowly, he pulled away. I felt the loss of his warmth immediately, and disappointment swelled in my chest. I wanted him to stay. Just a few more minutes. Just long enough to pretend we were something real.

But I understood.

He had to work. He had responsibilities. He had a distance to maintain.

Still, when he stood and tiptoed toward the door, trying not to wake me, I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my lips again.

He cared. Even if he didn't want to.

I know what he said—that this marriage wasn't about love, that he wouldn't let himself feel anything for me—but I had seen glimpses. Felt cracks in his armor. There was warmth beneath the cold. A flicker of something deeper behind his guarded eyes.

Maybe he had a past—a heartbreak so deep it taught him to never trust again. Maybe he'd loved before and lost something that made him swear he'd never feel that way again. But I wasn't afraid of the darkness he was hiding. If anything, it made me want to understand him more.

I stayed in bed a little longer, my heart wide awake even though I pretended not to be. I kept replaying the way he held me. The way he kissed me when he thought I wouldn't notice.

If he didn't like me… why kiss me at all?

And if he wanted me to "familiarize" myself with his mouth, as he'd coldly put it last night… why not kiss me when I was awake?

That thought alone made my cheeks burn.

Eventually, I gave up on sleep and slipped out of bed. I padded to the bathroom and stepped into a warm shower, letting the water run over my skin as I imagined what it would be like if Hunter ever truly let me in—if I could break through whatever walls he'd built.

Afterward, wrapped in a soft robe, I opened my wardrobe and stared in awe.

I still couldn't believe it.

Every dress, every blouse, every shoe in perfect order—he had all of it prepared for me. Like he'd anticipated every need. Like he wanted me to feel at home.

I chose a soft floral dress and let my hair fall in loose waves. Something about this day felt different. Like it was the beginning of something. Not just a contract or a charade, but a quiet shifting of something real.

I stepped out of my room with a light heart, planning to visit the garden and breathe in the morning air.

But I paused.

Cerila was already standing just outside my door, her expression unreadable as she looked me over with the eyes of someone who had seen far too much—and trusted far too little.

"Good morning, Cerila!" I greeted her with a bright smile the moment I stepped out of my room. "How long have you been standing here?"

"Not long, Ms. Madeline," she replied quickly, her hands clasped politely in front of her.

I chuckled softly and shook my head. "Please… just call me Maddie or Madeline. No need for the formalities."

She gave me a shy smile, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. "I'll try, Ms. Maddie… when we're alone. But if Mr. Hunter's family is around, I'll have to call you properly."

"That's fair," I said with a nod, appreciating her warmth.

She stepped to the side and gestured gently. "Your husband-to-be told me not to wake you, so I waited until you were up on your own. Breakfast is ready. Would you like to come with me to the dining room?"

"Thank you," I said, touched that Hunter had left instructions not to disturb me. My heart fluttered a little at the thought.

I followed Cerila through the corridor, my steps light but nerves slowly creeping in. I hadn't spent much time with the entire Divenson family yet, and a quiet hope lingered in me that this morning might go better than I feared.

That hope evaporated the moment I stepped into the dining room.

Everyone turned to look at me. Lily smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw me, but the others… barely concealed their disdain.

"What are you doing, Madeline?" Leticia Divenson asked sharply, her voice cold and clipped. "Go to the kitchen and help bring the food. And serve us, please."

I paused for a heartbeat, stunned—but quickly masked it with a gentle nod. "Of course," I said softly, my smile never faltering, even as something twisted in my chest.

Cerila stepped forward, clearly wanting to protest, but I shook my head lightly at her and walked toward the kitchen.

But the moment my back was turned, the cruelty came.

"How could she possibly think she's family already?" Leticia said loudly, not bothering to lower her voice. "She isn't married to Hunter yet. She's still an outsider. And do you know what outsiders are good for?"

"Maid!" her children chorused in unison—except for Lily.

"She's had all those part-time jobs, hasn't she?" Charlotte added with a sneer. "Housework should come naturally to her. Maybe she should apply to work here full time."

"I still can't believe Hunter chose Frank's estranged daughter," Leticia muttered. "It's disgusting."

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

Don't cry. Don't give them that satisfaction.

Cerila caught up to me, her voice low with urgency. "Ms. Madeline, you don't have to do this. You're Mr. Hunter's future wife."

"I know, Cerila," I replied gently. "But it's better this way. I'll have a chance to meet the rest of the staff. I'd like to know the people who keep this house running."

Cerila blinked at me, surprised by my grace, then nodded.

In the kitchen, she quickly introduced me to the others. There were so many faces and names that I couldn't keep track, but they were kind. Shocked, yes—but kind.

"She wants to help," Cerila explained. "This is Ms. Madeline—Mr. Hunter's fiancée."

Some looked confused. Others looked concerned. A few looked like they pitied me—and I could feel it in the silence.

"I know this isn't normal," I said, trying to ease the discomfort. "But I want to be here. I want to earn their acceptance, and this is the least I can do."

Their expressions softened. I saw sympathy in their eyes, and something else—respect.

"I didn't grow up in a wealthy family," I added with a small smile. "So this is nothing new to me. I'm used to hard work. Please, let me help."

As I placed the dishes on the table, I noticed the smug grin on Charlotte's face. She was enjoying every second of this.

"You can eat later—after we've finished," Leticia declared. "That's how it's done here."

I simply nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Then Lily's voice broke the silence.

"I'll wait for you, Madeline."

Leticia looked sharply at her daughter. "No, Lily. Eat now."

"No," Lily said firmly. "I want to eat with Maddie. And if you don't let her eat with us, I'll tell Hunter what you're doing."

The table went quiet.

I stared at Lily, shocked—and so deeply moved.

"You little brat," someone hissed. Parker, probably.

Clark finally spoke, dry and annoyed. "Just let her eat with her. This is too much."

Lily got up and followed me into the kitchen, her hands folded like she was trying to behave—though her defiance burned brightly.

The kitchen staff looked wide-eyed when they saw her enter with me.

"Hi, everyone," she said brightly. "I'm Lily. I'm Maddie's assistant!"

I laughed under my breath. "Lily, if you're going to eat with me, you have to promise not to help. Deal?"

She pouted but nodded. "Fine. But I'm watching you."

We returned to the dining area together with the last of the dishes. I served everyone without complaint, enduring more demands.

I met each request with a silent nod. By the time they finished eating, I was physically tired, emotionally drained, and running on nothing but pride and Lily's small hand in mine.

The dining hall emptied—finally—leaving only me and Lily behind.

"You were amazing," she whispered to me. "You didn't cry once."

But oh, I wanted to.

Instead, I smiled. "Thank you, Lily. That means more than you know."

"I'm sorry, Maddie," Lily said, her voice soft but full of feeling. "They treated you like a maid, and I hate my family for doing that to you."

I gave her a gentle smile, trying not to let her words stir the pain already lodged deep in my chest. "It's okay, Lily. I'm just… a stranger here."

"No, you're not," she said firmly, surprising me with the fire in her voice. "You're going to marry my brother. That makes you family. And I know Hunter loves you."

I blinked, caught off guard by her conviction. Before I could respond, she continued with childlike certainty.

"Don't worry. I'm going to tell Hunter everything."

My eyes widened. "Lily, please don't," I said quickly. "I don't want him to know. I'm fine serving your family—it's really okay. You don't need to tell him. I don't want Hunter to resent your parents or siblings because of me, alright?"

She studied my face for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay. I won't tell him. But, Maddie," she added, her tone suddenly firmer, "if they treat you like that again during lunch… I'm not going to let it slide."

Her words stunned me. She might be young, but there was steel in her voice—graceful, protective strength far beyond her years.

"Yes, ma'am," I said with a small laugh, and she giggled back.

Lily led me to her room afterward, tugging my hand like we'd been best friends for years. The moment we stepped inside, I smiled. Her room was bright, whimsical, full of pastel colors and personality. Butterflies decorated the walls, and a framed photo on her nightstand caught my eye.

Hunter.

He was riding a horse, with Lily in front of him, her tiny hands gripping the reins while his arms held her steady. They looked so happy—free like the world around them didn't matter.

My fingers brushed over the frame. "This picture… it's beautiful."

"It's new. We took it last week. We go riding sometimes when he's not too busy," Lily said proudly. "Hunter always makes time for me."

There was a warmth in her words that made my heart ache.

"How old are you, Lily?" I asked, still staring at the photo.

"I'll be twelve in two weeks!" she exclaimed with a grin.

"Twelve already? That's exciting." I smiled at her. "So… what do you want for your birthday?"

"You have to surprise me, Maddie," she said mischievously.

"Oh? No hints at all?"

"Nope," she said with a teasing shake of her head. "You have to guess."

She picked up her colored pencils and sat cross-legged on the floor, sketching away in a notebook. I sat with her, watching as she drew with focus and ease.

"You're really talented, Lily," I said after a moment. "That's beautiful."

She beamed. "Thanks! I think I got it from Hunter. He's good at drawing, too."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really? Hunter?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yep! He used to draw when he was younger, but now he says he doesn't have time."

There was so much I didn't know about him.

Before I could ask more, Lily's voice dropped slightly. "Is it true? That you're Frank's daughter?"

The question caught me off guard. I hesitated before answering. "Yes… I think so. I never really knew him. My mom said he left when I was three. I don't even remember what he looked like."

Lily's expression softened. "I liked Frank. He was always kind to me."

Her words surprised me. Maybe my father was a good man. I'd spent so long thinking otherwise.

"It's okay," I said softly. "It was a long time ago."

We were both startled by a sudden knock on the door. I stood and opened it to find Parker on the other side.

"Sweet Madeline," he said, his voice syrupy and insincere, "it's time for lunch. Mother's looking for both you and Lily. Please come to the dining hall."

But his eyes… they didn't meet mine.

They lingered—low, leering—and my entire body stiffened. I was fully covered, but the way he looked at me made my skin crawl.

He licked his lips before turning away.

I quickly grabbed Lily's hand, holding it tighter than necessary as we walked back to the dining room together. I didn't want to be alone around Parker—not ever.

Lunch was no different from breakfast.

I served the family again while they remained seated like royalty. Charlotte smirked. Leticia barked more commands. Parker kept watching me when he thought I wasn't looking.

"Madeline," Leticia snapped. "After lunch, help the laundry staff. We're short today."

"Of course," I replied, nodding.

Lily ate with me again, and I was grateful she didn't argue when I explained I couldn't spend the afternoon with her. I had work to do.

Leticia insisted everything in the mansion be hand-washed—even the linens and curtains—to "preserve the fabric." So, the laundry was endless. The staff was overwhelmed, and when I joined them, they were apologetic.

"I heard we're short-staffed today," I said. "Don't worry. I can help."

They hesitated but let me work with them, clearly surprised that I didn't complain. My fingers turned sore and red from the effort, my arms aching by the time we were done. But I felt strangely fulfilled.

By the time I returned to my room, every muscle in my body ached. My dress clung to me with the smell of soap and sun. I collapsed onto my bed, not even bothering to change. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep pulled me under like a tide.