The Don's Maid [18+]

04

*ch4*

Today, the morning came early with my unwanted coldness.

The warmth that had engulfed me last night had vanished replacing me by a vacuum.

Last night where I felt safe and protected, maybe. This morning comes to be exact opposite. Sighing I sit up on the bed.

The skin on my palm is dry. I rub them together in hope of moisture while I walk to the bathroom to find some lotion.

Sadly there wasn't any. I wash my hands and my face before coming out to the room.

The breakfast comes in a trolley with pancakes and honey. Coffee with cream and sugar. Strawberries and cream.

It was already eight when I woke up, I usually enter the kitchen by seven thirty but now I am half an hour late.

Hurrying to my bedroom, I take out my usual dress, rushing to the servant's bathroom, I take a quick shower, despite of my muscles being numb.

Entering the kitchen, I find everyone hurrying for the big breakfast. I join hands as the other maids busy themselves serving the food.

Once the kitchen is clear of food, I help clean it and then wash the cotton rags on the sink before washing my hands.

My share of breakfast contained sweetened toast and black tea, quickly gulping them down, I start to chop the vegetables for lunch.

"Have you eaten, Rosa?" Mayble, one of the elderly maid asks me. She's taken care of me since mama died.

"Yes, I had a toast." I say as I wash the onions and place them on the cutting board.

"Alright." She says taking out of packets of rice noodles. "Can you boil them, once you're done with the onions?" She asks.

"Yes, Mayble." I say with a smile as she gets called out of the kitchen. The guests are about to leave from the mansion, the servant's van will leave after the post lunch work. We have to take the decorations down and all.

The Don will probably leave for the estates as well. The little voice inside me says.

It was a one time fling. My inner girl sighs. Forget about it.

Right! He's the Don.

With a sigh, I keep on chopping onions, my eyes blur with the tears from the acid.

"Rosaline." I hear the voice that makes my insides hot, then comes the arm around my waist pulling me slightly aback. I drop the knife from sudden surprise.

The warmth returns back to my body. "Why didn't you have your breakfast, neonata?" He asks burying his face on my neck.

"I had a toast." I answer truthfully.

I feel him sigh against my skin as as weird as it sounds, if feels equally safe. Comfortable.

"Oh baby!" He inhales sharply.