Mia adjusted her gown as she stood before Zac’s penthouse. It was even grander than she had imagined—a fortress of steel and glass, towering over perfectly manicured gardens.
The high walls weren’t just physical barriers; they were a stark reminder of the worlds separating them.
But she wasn’t here to dwell on the past. After weeks of preparation, this time, she was Tiffany, the assistant cook.
She was greeted by the chief of staff, who offered a polite smile—just enough to be courteous, but guarded. His suit was neat, his posture effortless, as if he had done this a thousand times before.
Everything about him matched the place—controlled, precise, leaving nothing to chance.
“You must be Tiffany,” he stated, extending his hand. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to the team.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mia said with a steady nod.
Stepping inside felt like crossing into another realm. Her eyes swept the space, cataloging every detail—the quiet movements of the security cameras, the staff moving with practiced ease, the priceless art on the walls, each piece a silent testament to the wealth and power that ruled this place.
Zac was a billionaire. What else had she expected?
The kitchen hummed with movement, and the head chef barely spared her a glance when she was introduced. But Mia didn’t care, her focus had already drifted—past the doorway into the dining room, beyond the polished silverware and perfectly arranged table settings—to the two figures seated together in effortless intimacy.
Zac—alongside his fiancée, Bella.
Zac hadn’t changed. He was relaxed on a white couch, radiating the same aura that had once disarmed her.
Bella sat next to him, her skin glowing like a polished diamond. Every detail—from her perfectly styled hair to her designer heels—exuded elegance and confidence: the kind that came from knowing she belonged.
Mia swallowed the bitterness rising in her throat. She truly had no place here.
The chief of staff’s voice pulled her back. “Before we get you settled, it’s customary for new staff to greet the master.”
Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t imagine his reaction when they met face-to-face.
Would he recognize her? Would Bella suspect they had a brief history?
Well, if Zac had moved on so easily, then she could, too. Why bother?
You are Tiffany. Nothing more, she breathed, calming her curiosity.
“Tiffany… ?” The chief of staff’s voice snapped her back again. “This way.”
“Yes, Sir.” She bowed slightly before following.
The living room was luxurious—soft lighting, sleek furniture, the kind of wealth that didn’t need to announce itself. And there, in a beige T-shirt and sweatpants, was Zac.
He barely looked up from his tablet, his posture at ease. But when he did, just for a second, Mia caught it—that spark in his eyes.
It felt like recognition or maybe surprise. But it faded way too fast.
Then, just as quickly, he lay back, tossing an arm over Bella’s thigh. A deliberate move, just enough to distract himself from the present.
Don’t react. Don’t acknowledge her. Those were the only thoughts in his head.
Bella, in return, trailed her fingers over his arm—a silent claim, a reminder that he was hers.
Her eyes met Mia’s, and a thin smile curved her lips.
“And who is this?” Bella asked, her tone light but laced with something sharper.
“This is Tiffany Reynold, the new assistant cook,” the chief of staff answered.
Bella’s eyes swept over Mia, assessing her with condescension.
“Assistant cook?” she hummed, tilting her head. “What’s the hiring process these days—a beauty pageant? She looks too young.”
“I’m thirty years old, ma’am,” Mia lied, but her face remained neutral. “I promise to do my job well.”
Bella leaned in toward Zac, her voice lowering—but not enough. “I don’t like her.”
Zac exhaled, still focused on his tablet. “You insisted we hire new staff above twenty-seven. What next?”
“Maybe we don’t need more staff after all,” Bella shot back.
Zac finally looked up, meeting Bella’s gaze. “It’s too late; she’s already on the payroll.”
Bella huffed, then turned to Mia.
“Fair enough, but you’ll be on probation, Tiffany,” she said with a polite venom. “Don’t make me regret this.”
And with that, she returned her attention to Zac, resuming her conversation with him as if Mia never existed.
The dismissal was deliberate and final, and it hit Mia harder than she wanted to admit.
Bella’s hostility wasn’t unexpected, but it was another reminder of how delicate her position here was.
“Let’s get you settled, my dear.” The chief of staff motioned for her to follow.
Mia nodded, stiffly following him out, her heart racing. Zac hadn’t acknowledged her in any way.
Or maybe he had, yet simply didn’t care.
************
Later that day, Mia busied herself organizing the pantry, trying to focus on anything other than the throbbing weight in her chest.
Then—she heard a voice.
"Mia?"
Her breath caught.
She quickly turned, only to find Angelo leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, with a teasing smile playing on his lips.
Her stomach dropped. Not him.
“Angelo,” she whispered.
The last person she expected to see was another familiar face. This was not meant to be. How would she account for this?
“What are you doing here?” Her mouth felt dry.
“I came here for business… my friend lives here,” Angelo said with a lazy shrug. “But imagine my surprise—seeing you here. That’s crazy."
He leaned in closer, studying her like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.
She knew that expression. And she could not afford it. “So what’s up, Mia? You work here now?”
"It's Tiffany," she corrected, her voice low. "That's what I go by here."
Angelo raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "Oh, that’s cool. But I think I prefer Mia by the way.”
She swallowed, glancing over her shoulder. “Angelo, please. Just keep your voice down.”
Before she could say more, another voice cut through the air.
“Angelo.”
They both turned as Zac appeared in the doorway, his expression giving nothing away. His gaze moved between them, pausing on Mia just a fraction too long.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said to Angelo, his tone light—too light.
Angelo shrugged. "I’m just saying hello to a friend Mi—Tiffany."
“You two know each other?" Zac asked casually.
“No—” Mia started but Angelo interrupted.
“Yes, we do.” Angelo grinned. “We met at the airport weeks ago. Small world, huh?”
Zac’s gaze sharpened slightly. “Well… Tiffany’s working right now, so allow her to do her job.”
Angelo held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave your new cook alone.”
With one last glance at Mia, he walked out.
But Zac didn’t move. He stood there, watching her silently.
For a second, she thought he might say something. But he didn’t.
He simply turned and walked away.
Mia exhaled shakily, gripping the counter tighter than she should.
She had come seeking answers.
But suddenly, she wasn’t sure she would survive the questions yet to come.