Chapter 1

It was raining when Anna ran toward the hotel, breathless. She was late again—last night she’d worked until dawn at the bar when a group of VIPs stayed too long.

“Sorry, Alex! I overslept!” she said, tying her apron as she hurried in. Her hair was pulled back in a tight knot, neat and strict, like a prisoner of routine.

Alex’s brown eyes softened. “It’s fine. I covered for you. Just don’t push yourself too hard.”

Anna smiled faintly and went straight to her trolley of supplies, heading to the elevator. She pressed floor eight—her usual. Above it were fifteen floors, but she had never set foot past ten. Only the most trusted workers reached the top. One day, she hoped.

Hours later, while finishing a room, her supervisor appeared.

“Anna. Floor fifteen. Now.”

Her heart skipped.

When the door opened, she froze. The room was nothing like the others—heavy curtains drowned the light, a massive bed stood with dark leather and perfect charcoal linens. A saber gleamed on the wall, polished like it was sacred. A crystal decanter of wine glowed under the chandelier, red like blood in glass. The air itself was sharp with discipline. This wasn’t a room. It was a throne.

She forced herself to work. Changing sheets, dusting shelves, though her hands trembled slightly. The silence pressed on her chest.

Then—click. The door opened.

A tall figure stepped in, removing his gloves slowly. His eyes, cold and sharp, found her instantly. The weight of his presence swallowed the room whole.

“You are not supposed to be here,” he said, voice deep, commanding.

Anna’s head dropped at once, eyes fixed on the floor. Her throat tightened. She had faced countless guests in her ten years—but this was no ordinary man. This was a General. And for the first time in her life, she felt like prey.

The sound of his boots echoed against the polished floor as he stepped closer. Every move was steady, deliberate, as if the whole room bent to his pace.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“...Anna, sir.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Silence. Then, a low hum—almost approval. “Anna. Ten years of service here, and yet this is your first time in my room.”

Her hands froze on the cloth she was folding. He knew. Somehow, he knew exactly how long she had worked here.

The General poured himself wine, the crimson liquid catching the chandelier’s glow. He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving her.

“You clean well. Precise. Quiet,” he said, setting the glass down. “I prefer silence in my space. Can you keep it that way?”

Anna nodded quickly, still not daring to lift her gaze.

“Good,” he murmured. His tone was calm, but the weight of it pressed on her like a blade at her neck.

For a moment, neither spoke. Only the faint tap of rain against the window filled the void.

Then unexpectedly he turned away, removing his coat and tossing it on the bed she had just made. “Continue your work,” he said without looking back. “I want to see if you can keep your composure… under watch.”

Anna swallowed hard, her fingers tightening on the duster. Every instinct told her to flee but her body obeyed. She bowed lower, whispering, “Yes, General,” before resuming her task, heart racing louder than the storm outside.

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