Brian Xavier

"Ms. Greyson, you are a servant here. Call me properly."

Charles snapped out of his daze, swiftly tearing his gaze away from Emily's soaked shirt. His face hardened as he turned away.

"Know your place."

With that, he strode off, his movements brisk and dismissive.

Emily stood frozen, her cheeks burning with humiliation.

He misunderstood me!

The sting of his words lingered, but she wasn't the only one who had witnessed the exchange.

Hidden behind the curtain, Rebecca watched, a smirk tugging at her lips.

Up on the balcony, Warren had also seen everything.

His sharp, enigmatic eyes flickered with an unreadable expression.

After serving Warren his meal, ensuring he had taken his medicine, and making sure everything was set for him, Emily hurried back to her room.

She quickly changed into her school uniform.

As she stepped outside the mansion, she halted abruptly.

A sleek, black Rolls-Royce was parked by the entrance.

Standing beside it was an older man in a black suit and tie.

Upon seeing Emily, he moved swiftly to open the backseat door for her.

Emily frowned.

It wasn't shocking to see luxury cars in a mansion like this—but having a driver personally open the door for her felt… unsettling.

She glanced around, expecting to see someone else who might be the intended passenger.

There was no one.

This was her ride.

"Ms. Greyson," the man spoke formally, "I'm Mr. Floss, your assigned driver."

Emily blinked.

"Oh… Are you sure?" she asked, still in disbelief.

She had never been inside a car like this in her life.

And now she had a driver?

Her mind whirled.

How do I explain this to Brian?

And her classmates—who never missed a chance to tease her?

Are all maids here treated like this? Or am I just overthinking?

Then again…

To rich people, extravagant cars were nothing.

Mr. Floss noted her hesitation.

"Ms. Emily, please… We have to leave, or you'll be late."

She shook herself from her thoughts.

Stop overthinking, Emily!

Without further delay, she ran toward the car and slipped inside.

Upon arriving at school, Emily requested to be dropped off a short distance from the entrance gate.

She didn't want unnecessary attention.

A poor girl stepping out of a luxury car?

That was bound to spark gossip.

Mr. Floss understood immediately.

As she exited the car, she spotted Brian waiting at the gate.

His familiar grin was already in place.

"B! What are you doing here?" Emily asked, smiling.

"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked playfully. "Waiting for the most beautiful girl on campus."

Emily rolled her eyes.

She knew he was joking.

Brian Xavier wasn't just a basketball varsity player—he was the most sought-after guy at school.

His family owned a construction empire, and as their only son, he was set to inherit it all.

Unlike Emily, his future was already secured.

"Stop joking! I'm in a hurry. I'll be late!"

Without another word, Emily rushed past him.

Brian chuckled at her retreating form.

"Let's have lunch together, E! You know I miss you, right?" he called out.

A few students nearby erupted into teasing cheers.

"Wooohhh!"

Emily heard him but didn't bother looking back.

She shook her head and raised her right hand, flashing a thumbs-down as she hurried inside.

The moment she entered her classroom, she was met with familiar chatter.

And of course, Charles Adams was the center of attention.

Emily sighed and headed straight for her seat at the back.

"Oh my gosh!"

Charlotte Steffan—the self-proclaimed queen bee—stood dramatically with one hand on her waist, the other clutching her glittering iPhone.

"*Charles—my Charles—is going to have a movie with that witch, Margaux Shell?! What on earth is happening? That woman is evil!"

Her tone was pure indignation.

"Yeah! The news dropped last night," Lixie Bowel chimed in, crossing her arms. "My mom said Margaux Hell demanded to be paired with our Charles—otherwise, she wouldn't sign the deal."

Her mother was the Deputy Manager of King Media—Charles's own company.

A+ list actors and actresses were all under his management, including Margaux Shell herself.

Emily internally sighed.

Another day, another chaotic wave of fangirl meltdowns.

Certainly! Here's a refined and more immersive version, improving flow, character depth, and tension while keeping the original essence intact:

"Ms. Greyson, you are a servant here. Call me properly."

Charles tore his gaze away, snapping out of whatever momentary distraction had clouded him. His voice was cold, detached.

"Know your place."

Without another word, he strode away.

Emily stood frozen, cheeks blazing with humiliation.

He completely misunderstood!

Behind the billowing curtain, a pair of sharp eyes had caught the scene.

Rebecca smirked.

Up on the balcony, Warren had seen it too.

His expression was unreadable—his gaze flickering with something mysterious.

After ensuring Warren had eaten, taken his medication, and was settled comfortably, Emily hurried back to her room to change into her school uniform.

Stepping outside the mansion, she was met with an unexpected sight.

A sleek black Rolls-Royce idled at the entrance.

Standing beside it, an older gentleman in a sharp suit immediately moved to open the backseat door for her.

Emily frowned.

Luxury cars in this mansion? Not surprising.

But a personal driver waiting for her?

That was another story.

She quickly glanced around, scanning for someone else—surely this wasn't her ride.

But there was no one else.

It really is for me?!

"Ms. Greyson," the man spoke with professional courtesy. "I'm Mr. Floss, your assigned driver."

Emily blinked, still processing his words.

"Oh… Are you sure, Mr. Floss?" she asked hesitantly.

She had never ridden in a car like this before.

And a driver?

It was too surreal.

Her mind raced.

How am I going to explain this to Brian?

And her classmates—who never wasted a chance to tease her?

Is every maid treated like this?

Or was she just overthinking?

For people like the Adams family, this was just another Tuesday.

Mr. Floss noted her hesitation.

"Ms. Emily, please. We must leave, or you'll be late."

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts.

Stop overthinking, Emily!

Without further delay, she climbed into the car.

Upon arriving at school, Emily asked Mr. Floss to drop her off a short distance from the entrance gate.

She wanted to avoid attention.

A poor girl stepping out of a luxury car?

That was bound to spark gossip.

Mr. Floss obliged without question.

As Emily walked toward the gate, she spotted Brian waiting.

His signature grin was already in place.

"B! What are you doing here?" she asked, smiling.

"Isn't it obvious?" He smirked playfully. "Waiting for the most beautiful girl on campus."

Emily rolled her eyes.

Brian Xavier—basketball varsity star, heir to a massive construction business, beloved by nearly everyone.

And, most importantly, her best friend.

"Stop joking! I'm in a hurry—I'll be late!"

Without another word, she rushed past him.

Brian chuckled.

"Let's have lunch together, E! You know I miss you, right?" he called after her.

A few students nearby erupted into teasing cheers.

"Wooohhh!"

Emily heard him but didn't react.

She merely shook her head, raising a thumbs-down as she hurried inside.

"No way! That leech! She won't stop until she hooks up with our superstar! I hate her to the bone!"

Valerie Campbell—the third member of the trio—joined in, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight.

"Should we kill her?"

Emily remained quiet, listening.

She had seen the headlines last night.

Her darling superstar was a public figure—there was no room for jealousy.

She had to support him instead.

The gossip was clear—Margaux Shell had always pursued Charles.

Maybe this time, she had finally succeeded.

Charles was admired by many—these three, Margaux, and all his fans.

Emily, however, felt lucky.

She was actually living in his world.

None of them knew.

And no one should know.

It was strictly confidential.

Otherwise, her dream would be shattered.

She smiled, knowing she had what they could only fantasize about.

"Emily, why are you smiling? Did you find a dollar bill on the road?"

Valerie's sharp voice cut through the moment.

Emily didn't flinch.

"Oh, come on, Valerie! Let's not waste time on this poor little thing," Lixie interrupted quickly.

It was pretentious—everyone knew she had a crush on Brian.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, shrugging off Emily's presence entirely.

Emily knew the reality.

These rich kids didn't want to mix with the poor ones.

She didn't belong here—she never had.

She had only made it into this school by scholarship.

She had survived the constant bullying thanks to Brian.

His reputation protected her.

No one dared to touch her directly.

But she knew—there were eyes on her, waiting for a moment to strike.

"E, are you okay?"

Brian's voice was laced with concern.

"Same old… same old…"

Emily replied casually as they ate lunch in the canteen.

Her mind, however, was elsewhere.

Should she tell Brian?

That she was living under the same roof as Charles Adams?

Her contract was strict—no one could know.

Brian had always had her back, though.

She could trust him.

But was it the right time?

"E, why do I feel like something's bothering you?" Brian pressed.

Emily shook her head.

"There's nothing. Let's eat fast—I still have assignments to do."

She quickly diverted the topic.

She would tell him.

When the time was right.

For now, she needed to process things herself.

After lunch, they headed to the library.

Brian eyed her skeptically.

He knew her too well.

Something was going on.

And sooner or later, he would find out.

By 6 p.m., Emily rushed out of school, eager to return home before dinner.

The mansion was only a 30-minute drive away.

As she stepped past the gate, she froze.

The black Rolls-Royce was already waiting.

Her heart sank.

She had wanted to take public transportation to avoid unnecessary attention.

However, the mansion was situated in a private compound located uphill.

No taxis could enter.

She scanned the outdoor parking.

Groups of students lingered, chatting, giggling, some making out.

Eyes turned toward the sleek car.

Then, Mr. Floss stepped out and opened the backseat door.

Emily's cheeks burned.

She needed to move quickly before the crowd grew bigger.

With no choice, she covered her face with her book and ran toward the car.

Slipping inside, she exhaled in relief.

She planned to talk to Mr. Floss about his pick-up time.

But the moment she turned, her eyes widened.

She wasn't alone.

"Are you okay, Emi?"

Warren was sitting beside her, eyes flickering with amusement.