Mandy dragged the vacuum cleaner aside, shooting Cecilia a sideways glance. Her voice was sharp, brazen, almost mocking.
"Sorry. That's not part of my job."
Cecilia arched a brow. She had never even crossed paths with this maid before—so why the arrogance?
Just as she opened her mouth to call her back, Mandy was already walking away, vacuum trailing behind her as if Cecilia didn't exist. Not a word of apology, not even a glance at the blood on Cecilia's ankle.
The grievance boiled over. Cecilia lifted her chin, limping after her.
"You're fired."
Mandy froze. Her head whipped up, disbelief flashing in her eyes.
Cecilia's voice dropped, cold and steady.
"I don't need rude and insubordinate staff in this house. I'm sorry, but you're dismissed."
"Heh. You?" Mandy sneered, shoving her shoulder against Cecilia as she deliberately scrubbed the vacuum over the very spot Cecilia had just stepped on.
"Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't even want to clean the ground you walk on. Disgusting."
To Mandy, Cecilia was nothing more than Blaze's bedwarmer—a temporary plaything. Did she really think she had the right to give orders like the mistress of the house?
Last night, Mandy's boyfriend—the gardener—had lit fireworks for her birthday. The wind had blown them astray, shattering the second-floor window. It should have been nothing serious, but Cecilia had tattled to Mr. Diego, twisting the story. As a result, Mandy's boyfriend had been fired that very morning.
Everything was Cecilia's fault. That scheming bitch.
"What did you just say?" Cecilia's face darkened. "That's outrageous. How dare you—"
"Oh, what? I can't speak the truth? You and Mr. Diego aren't exactly clean, are you?" Mandy tossed the vacuum aside and planted her hands on her hips, yelling down the staircase for everyone to hear.
The commotion drew the staff. When the butler arrived, his eyes fell on the trail of blood at Cecilia's feet, and his expression twisted with shock.
"Quick! Get bandages for Miss Spark!"
He helped the pale, trembling Cecilia into a chair, muttering excuses before she could even explain.
"Mandy's got a foul temper, that's all. Sharp tongue, nothing more. Please, don't hold it against her…"
The alcohol stung like fire as it touched the wound. Cecilia's breath hitched again and again, her gaze hard and icy as it cut to the butler.
"I don't want excuses. I want her gone. Dismiss her immediately."
"Yes, yes, of course. I'll consult Mr. Diego and give you a satisfactory answer."
Even though Cecilia had been living in the villa for quite some time, the staff still didn't know her true identity. Blaze had never clarified, not once. To them, she was simply his mistress—a woman clinging to the villa without status or name. Their respect was as thin as paper.
"No need. I'll leave on my own." Mandy tore off her name badge and flung it onto the floor. Her voice rose, brimming with venom.
"Don't fool yourself into thinking you're the lady of this house just because you're living here! This villa was designed by Mr. Diego's lover. You're only in the guest room, and you don't even know your place. When the true mistress comes back, your ending will be worse than mine!"
"Mandy, enough!" The butler's face drained of color as he saw Cecilia's expression turn colder and colder. He quickly ordered the other servants to drag Mandy away.
She might not be powerful on her own, but she was by Mr. Diego's side. One whispered word into his ear, and who knew how he might retaliate? Better to avoid trouble.
Cecilia's anger burned hot—until Mandy's final words echoed in her mind. Then, strangely, the fire inside her died, leaving only a deep, uneasy silence.
She wasn't wrong.
Blaze loved the woman she had been three years ago. The Cecilia standing here now? She was nothing more than a stand-in, occupying the space of a ghost he couldn't let go of. At best… a bedmate.
Just like how she was only ever allowed to stay in the guest room—never permitted to set foot on the third floor.
"We'll take care of it, Miss Spark. The maid will be dismissed…" the butler stammered.
Cecilia waved him off, her thoughts a tangled mess. She had just turned to head upstairs and change when a loud bangthundered from the front gate, startling everyone.
The butler sent someone to check. Moments later, the news spread like wildfire: Mandy and her boyfriend's motorcycle had slammed into Blaze's Bentley.
The Bentley had been parked, thankfully, so no one was hurt. But the motorcycle lay toppled to the side, and the front bumper of the Bentley was hanging off, torn apart by the force of the crash.
Cecilia hobbled out with the others, curiosity pulling her along despite the throb in her ankle.
The repair bill alone would be a small fortune. But Mandy's misfortune was only beginning. The roar of an engine split the air, deep and powerful. A sleek silver-gray BMW pulled into the drive—Blaze had returned.
He stepped out, tugged his sunglasses down with a finger, and swept his gaze across the wreckage. The crowd hushed under the weight of his stare.
"What happened?" His voice was ice.
The butler fumbled for words, heart in his throat. The accident was one thing. What he feared most was Cecilia saying something that would anger Blaze.
When no answer came, Blaze's eyes shifted. Amid the crowd, he spotted the one face he had been unwillingly thinking of all day. His gaze dropped further—only to see her limping. A shadow darkened his expression.
He strode forward, cutting through the staff until he stood before her.
"What happened to your foot?"
Cecilia parted her lips, but the butler jumped in first.
"Miss Spark had a little quarrel with a maid and accidentally got hurt—"
"No."
Cecilia's voice was clear and firm. She'd known the staff had little respect for her, but she hadn't expected them to twist the story so brazenly. The injustice burned hotter than the pain.
"I don't know what grudge Mandy has against me, but—"
"Miss Spark," the butler cut her off again, almost pleading. "Mandy's young and hot-tempered. She already apologized and agreed to leave. Why press the issue further?"
"Press the issue?" Cecilia's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face. The audacity made her ankle throb all over again.
Blaze's jaw tightened. He knew her well enough—Cecilia wasn't a schemer. If anything, her bluntness always left her at a disadvantage. His eyes flicked toward Mandy.
"So it was her? And then she rammed my car on her way out?"
Mandy's face drained of color. A bad premonition gripped her chest. Blaze turned, pulling something from his jacket as he closed the distance between them with a slow, heavy stride. His expression was cold, ruthless—like a mafia boss delivering judgment. Mandy stumbled back.
"This is my lawyer's card." He shoved it into her boyfriend's hands. "The villa has cameras everywhere. Don't bother with excuses. You're fired. As for the accident—you'll answer for it at the police station. Go turn yourselves in."
Mandy's knees nearly buckled. She hadn't thought Blaze would retaliate like this. Was it all… just because she bullied Cecilia?
Even after dealing with them, Blaze's fury didn't cool. One look at Cecilia's pale face and injured foot was enough to remind him how much she had endured under this roof. And yet—she never complained. Not to him. Never asked him to stand on her side. Always keeping him at arm's length.
"Who else?" Blaze's voice was sharp, slicing through the silence as he stood before her.
Cecilia bit her lip and shook her head.
"It was only her. But since she's gone now, let's just… forget it."
The butler seized on her words.
"Exactly, Mr. Diego. Mandy didn't mean it. Let's drop the police report, shall we?"
Her soft, restrained response only stoked Blaze's temper further. If she'd just ask, he'd tear the world down to defend her. But she stayed guarded, always—never once laying her heart bare to him.
"Fine." His tone was low, clipped, bitter. "If that's what you truly want, I won't pursue it further. But every single servant in this villa will be dismissed. I'll have a new staff hired next week."
Cecilia blinked, startled. That seemed… excessive.
But Blaze wasn't speaking to the staff. His words were meant for her.
She didn't react. No flicker of relief, no trace of gratitude. Nothing.
A wry smile ghosted across his lips as he brushed past her, heading inside.
It should have been a perfect scene—him standing as her savior. Instead, it ended like every moment between them did: in silence, distance, and disappointment.