A House Built On Graves

Luna couldn't sleep that night no matter how much she tried, the thought of her mission the next day still weighed on her mind.

She only got little sleep during the wee hours of the morning.

She woke up shortly and started running around to prepare for her mission, what she's going to wear that day is what she doesn't know because she doesn't know if there's a dress code.

Whatever, she's a new comer, they won't do much, she thought and continued with her preparation, she made scrambled eggs for breakfast and drank the half glass of milk she had left, she made a mental note to go grocery shopping at the end of the day.

She was all set to leave the house.

She wore a plain black blouse—buttoned to the top, sleeves rolled neatly at the elbows, collar crisp. The kind of shirt that said humble, not harmless.

Her trousers were dark gray, pressed straight, nothing flashy—but tailored just enough to show she noticed details. A thin belt cinched her waist, a small silver buckle catching the light.

She kept her hair in a low bun—clean, controlled, forgettable. No lipstick, just a touch of powder to hide the fire beneath her eyes. But her nails? Painted the faintest shade of crimson.

A secret. A warning. A piece of her rage she refused to tuck away.

On her wrist, a black hair tie. On her ankle, beneath her pant leg, a tiny tattoo no one could see. She looked like a girl needing a job.

But dressed like a woman on a mission.

She looked at herself in the mirror and smirked , she knows this thing called fashion.

When she got to the location, she was marveled at the sight before her ,her eyes haven't seen something that beautiful and marvelous in years. They sure knows how to live according to their status, she had to give it to them.

She looked at the entrance,The iron gates were taller than they needed to be—sharp, black, and quiet. They didn't screech when they opened, didn't make weird and creepy sounds like the gates of homes Luna grew up near. This place had no need for noise. Power whispered here.

She stepped through, her boots crunching the white gravel with the soft precision of someone who knew she didn't belong—and was counting on it.

The Roth estate towered ahead, cream stone, glass walls, and a silence that screamed money. It looked like it had never known suffering. But Luna knew better.

This house was built on graves. One of them had her brother's name on it.

She hurried up to the main door and entered inside, that was when her jaw dropped, her right hand immediately flew to her jaw to hold it in place before it reaches the ground, because what? The settings before her is just unbelievable.

The living room is bigger than her whole house , designed with custom made furnitures, she just knew they were imported from another country, the floor is squeaky clean and well tiled , Luna felt like she's the only thing dirty in the room because it's just too clean and spotless.

She was still standing in awe, trying to process everything when she was interrupted by the butler.

The butler barely looked at her when she gave her name. "Miss... Luna Carter?" he read off the list.

"Yes," she replied smoothly, voice humble. Different. Not the sharp tongue she used on the streets. This Luna was soft-spoken. Invisible. Forgettable.

"Room to the left. Wait there."

She did. There were three other girls. Younger. Prettier, maybe. But none of them could read a room like Luna. None of them looked at the chandelier and thought that's real crystal, or watched the butler's twitchy fingers and wondered what is he hiding?

Ten minutes later, a woman in her forties with cold elegance stepped in. Mrs. Roth.

Not the mother—Luna had done her research. This was the aunt. Housekeeper. Loyal to the core.

"I don't tolerate laziness, phones, or incompetence. I don't need friends—I need silence. Understood?"

The girls nodded. Luna smiled faintly.

She got the job, of course she did.

" Excuse me ma'am, what time should we come to work everyday?"

Luna couldn't help but ask since no one was talking about it.

"Come to work from where? So you don't know you'll be living in this house during your work here?" Mrs Roth questioned her with a hint of irritation in her tone.

Luna opened her mouth to explain but she didn't get the chance to do so as the woman had already left , leaving behind the scent of her expensive perfume.

Luna didn't know what to feel about the new development, it wasn't part of her plan, having to work for her enemy is already worse but living with them and seeing their faces first thing in the morning is what she can't stomach.

She made up her mind, for better for worse, she's gonna succeed in her mission, it's the only thing that kept her going.

They were also allowed to go home and bring the things they would need, Luna first went and ended her work in the bookstore, the owner didn't feel much about her leaving, such a jerk.

Luna went home and packed few things she needed because she didn't plan on working there for a long time, she opened her drawer, took her diary , zipped her bag , gave one final look at her house and sighed sadly, guess the grocery shopping is suspended for now . She went on her way back to the Roth's mansion.

Later That Evening...

She was shown to the servant quarters—too clean, too quiet—and given a uniform she hated instantly.

She sat down on the bed that's more comfortable compared to the one she has in her apartment and sighed.

She proceeded to unpack her belongings.

Her room had a window. It overlooked the eastern wing.

Lucien's wing Of course.

She saw him that night. On the balcony. Shirt half-unbuttoned, talking on the phone, laughing like he didn't carry blood in his name.

Luna stared long enough to feel her nails bite her palm.

He had only seen her once, he didn't know her.

Not yet.

But he would.