"That outfit suits you. Now, let me tell you your tasks here. For today, you'll start by mopping the entire living room floor, then clean the swimming pool out back," Netty commanded with her usual arrogant tone.
Alana was about to object, but the woman didn't give her a chance.
"Stop, stop! Don't use your sign language in front of me. It gives me a headache. Now go, and remember—I'll be watching you."
ALANA'S POV
I looked around the living room, which was nearly half the size of a soccer field.
How could she ask me to do all this alone?
"That woman... she acts just like Mother—so arrogant."
"But didn't that man named Sean say he didn't need another maid? Then why am I being ordered to do this?"
Sigh Maybe I should just be grateful. Maybe this is my way to finally escape my foster parents.
"Alright, you can do this, Alana!" I told myself, encouragingly, and began mopping the floor.
I spent almost 30 minutes mopping every corner of the living room. My arms were aching terribly.
"Hey! You're not allowed to rest until you've finished your tasks. Don't argue—I'm the head maid here, and I've been Young Master's trusted staff for years. He asked me to supervise your work. Now get back to it!"
I nodded in understanding and picked up the mop again.
I wanted to shut her mouth with the mop... but fine. She seems to have power here too.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead. The sun was scorching. There were still a lot of leaves in the pool. My throat was parched.
"I'm so thirsty..." I looked around—there was no one else in sight.
Where's the kitchen? I had no idea. This house was huge.
I lay down on the green grass near the pool. My back ached again. After five minutes, I got up and tried to find someone to ask where the kitchen was.
"Why isn't there anyone around? Where did everyone go?"
I kept walking, checking every room I passed until I reached a closed door.
At first, I thought it led to the kitchen. Without thinking, I stepped inside, but suddenly, the door slammed shut behind me.
When I tried to open it, it was locked.
Then the lights went out.
There were no windows or ventilation. Alana banged on the door repeatedly, but there was no response.
"Oh God... am I going to die trapped in this dark room?"
Panic set in. My breath grew shallow.
The room was small, and with the lights off, it felt like I was suffocating.
---
"Freeze! Nobody move! Hands in the air!"
"Search every corner," ordered Dirgantara Pradipta, the handsome officer who joined in inspecting potential hiding spots for drugs.
"We found six packets of meth and Hepanyl, sir," reported two officers, showing the evidence to Dirgantara, head of the narcotics task force.
"Where did you get this?" Dirgantara crouched in front of the suspects.
"Please, sir! We only bought them—we're not dealers!"
"Don't lie! You know the consequences if you're proven to be dealers. If we find even one more packet, you'll all face the death penalty!"
Dirgantara's voice was firm and intimidating.
"Please, sir... we really are just users..."
"Well?" Dirgantara turned to one of his officers.
The officer shook his head. "That's all we found, sir. The detector didn't pick up anything else besides in that room."
"Alright, take them all in," Dirgantara instructed. The officers, who had already cuffed the eight men, led them away for further questioning.
---
"Congratulations on your promotion. You've officially been named the city's top detective."
"Thank you, sir. I'll work even harder to fight drug syndicates," Dirgantara said, shaking hands with the police chief.
Dirgantara returned to his new office. Thanks to his relentless dedication and multiple successful arrests, he had moved up quickly.
Tall at 187 cm, with a sharp nose, comma-styled hair, and a black leather jacket, Dirgantara looked as dashing as ever.
He grabbed a box of work files and set the papers on his desk.
He also placed a framed photo of himself and Alana from their days at the orphanage.
Dirgantara gently touched the photo.
"How are you now, Alana? Are you doing okay?"
The man, often called "Dirga," clearly missed Alana.
He didn't know what she looked like now—but he knew he would recognize her if they ever met again.
---
Meanwhile, Sean looked visibly restless at his office.
He kept thinking about Alana.
He picked up his phone, wanting to call her—only to realize she didn't have one.
"Argh! I can't wait to see her." Sean stood up, grabbed his coat, and rushed out.
Ben immediately opened the car door when Sean arrived in haste.
"Take me to the mall. Now," he ordered as soon as he sat down.
Ben turned to make sure he heard right.
"What's with that weird face? Can't I go to the mall?"
"I'm human too, Ben."
"Hehe, sorry, sir. Alright, let's go."
At the mall, Sean bought a phone for Alana.
"I'll take the latest and the best model."
"Sure, sir. We have two colors: black and light pink."
Sean assumed Alana would like pink, so he picked that one.
"Actually, these phones are couple models—perfect for partners. Would you like the black one as well?" the salesperson offered.
"Couple models?"
For some reason, Sean's heart raced at the thought of Alana being his partner.
"Alright, I'll take both."
"Would you also like couple SIM numbers, sir? The only difference is the last digit—it makes them easier to remember," the salesperson added.
Sean looked at Ben. "Do people really use couple numbers, Ben?"
"Of course, sir. In fact, most women find it sweet when their partners pay attention to small things like that," Ben explained.
"'Sweet'? What kind of slang is that?"
Sean clearly didn't understand modern lingo. Ben was stunned—his seemingly perfect boss was apparently quite old-fashioned.
The salesperson just smiled at Sean's confused but charming expression.
"Forget it. Just give me the phones."
---
On the way home, a rare smile bloomed on the cold man's face.
Sean kept glancing at the paper bag with Alana's new phone inside.
The sleek black car entered the grand estate as two security guards opened the towering golden gate.
"M-Master Sean?! Why is he back so soon? Doesn't he usually just stop by and leave again?"
Netty's heart nearly leaped out of her chest when Sean glanced her way.
"Are you hiding something from me, Netty?" His voice was cold, making the once-proud woman freeze.
"N-no, sir. Nothing at all."
The maids weren't allowed to move unless the young master permitted it. Ben and several of Sean's men were also watching.
With excitement, Sean headed upstairs to see Alana.
"Why is it so quiet? Is she asleep?" He pressed his ear to the door.
"Alana?"
Impatient, he pushed the door open. His face turned grim when she wasn't there.
"WHERE'S ALANA!"
Sean's deep voice echoed through the room. No one dared lift their heads.
"ARE YOU ALL DEAF?"
His eagle eyes caught Netty's panicked expression.
"Ben, check the CCTV—now!"
Ben immediately headed to the security room.
Sean's heavy footsteps echoed as he paced before his staff, hands in his pockets.
Ben returned and handed the CCTV footage to Sean.
"NO ONE HERE IS ALLOWED TO LEAVE UNTIL I RETURN.
Watch them, Ben!"
Sean dashed to where Alana was trapped.
The door was locked. He banged on it, calling her name. Silence.
He kicked it open.
The room was pitch black.
Sean turned on his phone's flashlight—and found Alana unconscious on the floor.
Panicking, he tossed his phone aside and carried her back inside.
"Call Dr. Vincent. Now. Tell him I'll pay him ten times the fee—just come immediately!" he ordered Ben.
Ben glanced furiously at Netty. The man with sharp eyes was clearly livid.
---
"Miss Alana had a panic attack and was dehydrated. Other than that, she's fine—but she shouldn't do any strenuous work for now," explained Dr. Vincent, Sean's trusted physician.
After the doctor left, Sean sat beside Alana and gently held her hand.
She was pale—so different from this morning, when she had looked just fine.
Sean clenched his fists.
He wouldn't forgive anyone who dared to hurt or mess with Alana.
He headed downstairs, his eyes sharp and full of fury.
"All of you—listen carefully. If you want to keep working here and live peacefully,
then NEVER touch what's mine!"
Sean stared each staff member down.
"How dare you lay a hand on what's mine—I won't forgive you!"
Netty immediately dropped to her knees, sobbing.
"Forgive me, sir! I'm so sorry!"
Tears streamed down the middle-aged woman's face.
"You think I didn't notice your arrogance all this time—acting like you run this house?"
"Take her. Lock her in the same room she locked Alana in. No food. No water. And if any of you disobey, you'll answer to me!"
Sean's men dragged Netty away while Ben followed behind to ensure it was done.
The woman finally got her karma—trapped in the same dark, suffocating room where she had once left Alana.