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When Milena sees me in my new attire, her eyes widen and her mouth parts open. "Goodness! What are you wearing, dear?"

I feel my cheeks flame a little. "Boss's orders," I mumble, tugging the dress down. I feel so uncomfortable wearing this.

"Mrs Welch's?" Milena asks, looking me up and down, her eyes still wide.

"No, Mr Welch's," I emphasise.

Milena looks at me for a few seconds longer before she straightens her mouth in a stern line. "Oh, dear," she mutters.

Yes, oh, dear would be just right. I don't voice that. Honestly, I don't dare to go against Mr Welch's wishes, regardless of what happened this morning. Actually, especially not after what happened this morning, although, just for a second there, he seemed nice to me and treated me like an actual person who makes mistakes.

Although it seems that Mr and Mrs Welch don't make mistakes - ever.

The next reaction I get on my outfit is from Mrs Welch herself when I come into the dining room to serve her lunch. She's eating alone yet again.

I feel her eyes on me the second I enter the room and I try to avoid her gaze, but it's hard because she's really piercing me with it. It's unnerving and it makes me even more nervous.

"Miss Duarte, what in the world are you wearing?" she snaps at me with an incredulous tone that tells me she's shocked. And angry.

My heart starts beating up even faster. "M-Mr Welch sent me the dress and wrote that this is my new uniform, ma'am," I answer dutifully, yet fearfully, keeping my gaze in the floor and my wrists crossed on my belly.

"Adrian? Since when is he making decisions about the household?" Mrs Welch mutters more to herself than me.

Meanwhile, I hang on what she said. Adrian. He's got a nice name, one that certainly suits him.

I stay quiet and stand by the table, waiting to be dismissed so I can go back to the kitchen.

"I'll have a talk with my husband, girl. Go change out of these outrageous clothes, I don't want to see you looking like a hooker in my own house."

Oh, ouch. Even though it's true. I don't want to look like a hooker.

I hurry out of the kitchen and run back upstairs to quickly change before I have to serve the second course. It's nice to be back in my old clothes now, even though they're not something I could brag about. They're just old clothes and they'll have to do.

I serve Mrs Welch the lunch while she looks through the magazines and types away on her laptop, completely ignoring me now. And I'm okay with that.

The rest of the day passes rather quickly. Time really flies when you have work to do. But I have to stay up again since Mr Welch hasn't come home yet and someone has to serve him dinner. Milena offered to stay up so I could go to sleep, but I voiced my concerns about Mr and Mrs Welch not liking that since they're on my ass.

Therefore, I wait with her. I busy myself with cleaning the kitchen counters, but I know exactly when he comes home. The atmosphere changes and my skin start tingling.

I've started getting afraid coming face to face with Mr or Mrs Welch because I don't want to screw things up and I often don't know what they really want from me.

"Adrian, sweetie, good evening. You didn't tell me you were going earlier than usual today," Milena greets Mr Welch in the way that makes me think they actually have a little friendlier relationship going on. I'm sure she's known them for a long time, but I can never see myself being friendly with any of them. They're just too ... much.

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