The vacuum roared across the velvet carpet, but Lin Wei hardly noticed the noise anymore. Two years as a maid in Dubai's most extravagant hotel had taught her one rule above all others: never let them see you flinch. Guests could be storms. Guests could be hurricanes. But staff had to be silence and stone.
Tonight, however, the suite on the 27th floor wasn't just a storm. It was a battlefield.
Perfume bottles lay shattered across the marble. Empty champagne flutes perched precariously on the piano, and a silk tie dangled from the chandelier like a flag of surrender. Someone had scrawled profanity in lipstick across the bathroom mirror. Lin Wei sighed. Another royal tantrum, she thought.
As she bent to push the vacuum under the couch, something metallic clicked against the nozzle. She pulled back, frowning, and a diamond cufflink rolled into the light—so large it seemed like it belonged in a museum. She picked it up with her gloved hand, staring at the glittering stone. "This alone could pay my rent for a year," she muttered. "And yet, here it is, forgotten under a couch."
She set it carefully on the table, beside an ashtray full of cigar butts. And that was when a voice, deep and smooth as desert whiskey, cut across the room.
"You missed a spot."
Lin Wei froze. Slowly, she turned.
At the balcony, framed by the glittering skyline of Dubai, stood Prince Hamdan Al Rashid. The notorious playboy of the royal family. His reputation traveled faster than the desert wind: reckless, untouchable, charming enough to topple kingdoms and careless enough to burn them.
Tonight, he wore nothing regal—just dark jeans and a half-open shirt that revealed bronzed skin and the kind of arrogance that money alone couldn't buy. He leaned against the glass, smirking, as if the world existed purely for his amusement.
Lin Wei clutched the vacuum nozzle like a weapon. "Your Highness," she said evenly. "You weren't supposed to be here."
"Where else would I be?" He gestured at the chaos behind him. "This is my kingdom. Dust and diamonds, chaos and champagne."
"Your kingdom looks like a crime scene," Lin Wei replied without thinking.
For a moment, silence. Then—he laughed. A low, surprised sound, as though no one had ever dared speak to him that way. "Spicy," he said approvingly. "Most people bow. You? You scold."
"I clean," she corrected. "Someone has to."
He stepped closer, every movement deliberate, predatory. "And what if I told you I prefer mess?"
"Then I would tell you that mess attracts cockroaches," Lin Wei shot back. "But perhaps that's the company you enjoy."
Hamdan's eyes glinted, equal parts amusement and danger. "Do you know who I am?"
"Yes," she said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "You're the man responsible for making my shift twice as long."
His grin widened. "Cinderella with claws. I like it."
"I'm not Cinderella," she muttered. "I don't have glass slippers. I have steel-toed shoes. Perfect for kicking."
He chuckled, but as his eyes swept the room, something changed. His gaze landed on the crumpled paper near the sofa. His smirk vanished. In two long strides, he was reaching for it.
But Lin Wei was faster. She bent and snatched it up first. It wasn't trash. It was a folder of sketches and notes—official-looking, with stamps and signatures. She glanced at the top page and froze. "Confidential: Alternative Energy Proposal—Royal Council." Her stomach dropped. This wasn't party debris. This was classified government work.
"Put that down." His voice was no longer smooth. It was sharp steel.
Lin Wei tightened her grip. "It was on the floor. My job is to collect."
"Not that." He stepped closer, eyes fierce. "That paper does not exist. Give it to me."
Her chin lifted. "Hotel policy requires lost items to be documented. You'll need to sign."
Hamdan stared at her as if she'd grown two heads. "You're joking."
She pulled a small notebook from her pocket. "Date. Time. Signature."
For a moment, silence thickened. Then, slowly, dangerously, Hamdan smiled. "You're serious. You think rules protect you here?"
"They protect everyone," Lin Wei said firmly, though her heart thundered. "Even from princes."
He leaned closer, so close she could smell the expensive cologne and faint smoke clinging to him. "You've just stepped into a game, Cinderella. And in my game, rules break first."
Before she could answer, a sudden knock rattled the suite door. A voice outside: "Your Highness, the council demands your presence. Now."
Hamdan's jaw clenched. He glanced from the folder in her hands to the door, torn. At last, he growled, "This isn't over," and strode past her.
The door slammed. Silence returned. Lin Wei stood frozen, the folder still in her hands. She looked down at the words stamped across the cover: "Top Secret. Royal Eyes Only."
Her hands trembled. Her instincts screamed to throw it away, to forget—but her curiosity whispered louder. And as she flipped open the first page, the weight of the desert itself seemed to shift.
Whatever was written here, it wasn't meant for a maid. It wasn't meant for anyone outside the palace.
And now, it was in her hands.
Lin Wei gasps as she reads a single phrase scrawled in the prince's handwriting—
"If exposed, the throne falls."