The next morning, the hotel lobby hummed with gossip. Staff whispered in corners, eyes darting toward the elevators that led to the royal suite. Rumors spread like fire: the prince had stayed overnight; the prince had smashed glasses; the prince had demanded a maid by name.
Lin Wei kept her head down, pushing her cleaning cart past the murmurs. Every step made her stomach tighten. She hadn't slept. The folder haunted her dreams—the words "If exposed, the throne falls" echoing in her skull like a curse. She had hidden the folder under her mattress in the staff dorm, but it felt like a bomb waiting to go off.
At the supervisor's desk, Ms. Halima—a woman whose sharp eyes missed nothing—glared at her over gold-rimmed glasses. "Lin Wei. Upstairs. Suite 2703. His Highness requested you specifically."
Lin Wei froze. "Requested… me?"
"Don't make me repeat myself." Halima's tone brooked no argument. "He insisted. Said no one else was to touch his room."
The other maids exchanged wide-eyed glances. One mouthed, good luck, like a funeral prayer. Lin Wei swallowed hard, adjusted her apron, and pushed her cart toward the private elevator. She considered refusing. She considered running. But bills don't disappear, and jobs aren't easily replaced. Especially not in a city that chews up the desperate and spits them out.
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open.
Hamdan was waiting.
He lounged against the doorframe of the suite, still in the same half-buttoned shirt from last night, hair messy but eyes sharp with amusement. He looked her over, slowly, deliberately. "You came. I wasn't sure you would."
"I didn't have a choice," Lin Wei said, pushing past him into the room. "Orders."
"You always have a choice." He shut the door behind her with a click that sounded too final. "Some people just fear the consequences."
She wheeled the cart forward, refusing to look at him. "If you're trying to intimidate me, it won't work."
"Oh?" He circled her like a predator, voice low. "You think what you hold doesn't matter?"
Her breath caught. She hadn't told anyone about the folder. How did he—?
Hamdan's grin sharpened. "Relax. I know you peeked. Curiosity kills more than cats, Cinderella."
"I didn't—" she started, but he cut her off, stepping closer until his shadow loomed over her.
"You read enough to know it isn't a party menu. That makes you dangerous." He leaned down, his lips near her ear. "And I like dangerous."
Lin Wei's pulse hammered. She forced herself to meet his gaze, even as fear and anger tangled inside her. "I don't want your secrets."
"Too late. You have them." His smile was wicked. "And now you're mine."
"Excuse me?" She almost laughed, incredulous. "I belong to no one."
Hamdan tilted his head, studying her as if she were a puzzle. "You think you can just walk away? Go back to scrubbing toilets, pretending you never saw what you saw? The council doesn't forgive leaks. The palace doesn't forgive weakness."
His words sent a chill down her spine. "So what—are you threatening me?"
"No." His eyes glittered with something darker. "I'm protecting you. From them. Because if anyone else discovers you touched that file, they won't send you back to your dorm. They'll make sure you disappear."
Silence hung heavy. For a moment, the weight of his warning pressed down on her like the desert sun. She wanted to dismiss it as another arrogant scare tactic. But the way his tone shifted—lower, edged with something real—made her hesitate.
Still, she forced a shaky laugh. "You're telling me the great Prince Hamdan is suddenly my bodyguard?"
"Not your bodyguard," he said smoothly. "Your master."
She bristled. "I am not your pet."
"Not pet." His smile widened. "Partner. If you're clever enough to survive."
Her hands clenched into fists. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you won't live long enough to regret it."
The audacity of him. The arrogance. Her blood boiled. "You really believe the whole world bends because you snap your fingers."
"It usually does," he said simply, and poured himself a drink though it wasn't even noon. "But you're… unusual. No one talks to me like you do. They bow. They kneel. You bite." He lifted his glass. "And that, Cinderella, is why I chose you."
"I didn't ask to be chosen," she shot back. "So un-choose me."
Hamdan chuckled. "Not how it works."
She turned away, furious, grabbing the mop from her cart with more force than necessary. "Then I'll quit. I'll find another job. There are a hundred hotels in this city."
"None protected by me." His words were soft, but the implication thundered in her ears. "Think carefully, Lin Wei. This city doesn't care if you drown."
Her throat tightened. He wasn't entirely wrong. She had debts. A sick mother back in China. A younger brother whose tuition depended on her salary. She didn't have the luxury of pride. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her doubt.
"I'll manage," she muttered.
Before Hamdan could reply, the suite phone rang. He snatched it up, listened, then his expression shifted. Darkened. "Tell the council I'll be there," he said curtly, and slammed the receiver down.
He looked at Lin Wei, eyes sharper than ever. "Stay here. Don't open the door for anyone."
"Why?" she asked warily.
"Because," he said, pulling on a jacket and heading for the door, "someone is already asking about you."
The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Lin Wei alone in the vast, silent suite. Her hands trembled as she gripped the mop. Asking about me? Who? Why?
Then, faintly, from the balcony, she heard the unmistakable click of a camera shutter.
She spun. On the street far below, a paparazzi lens glittered in the sunlight, pointed directly at her.
Lin Wei realizes the prince wasn't lying—someone really is watching her, and now the whole world might know she's tied to him.
Her stomach twisted. Panic clawed its way up her throat. She stepped back, slamming the curtains shut, but the damage was already done. Whoever held that camera had captured enough: a maid, alone in the prince's suite, staring out as though she belonged there.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Startled, she pulled it out. A message from one of the hotel staff:
"Your face is already on Instagram. Careful."
Lin Wei's knees weakened. Her face—her job—her entire life—exposed.
She clutched the phone, mind spinning. If the media turned this into a scandal, she would lose everything. Worse, she had seen the confidential file. If anyone tied her to Hamdan now, they might think she was involved in something far beyond a maid's duties.
For the first time, she understood: Hamdan hadn't been bluffing.
And as the voices of more paparazzi rose faintly from the street below, she whispered to herself: "What have I been dragged into?"
Before dawn the next morning, an official summons stamped with the royal crest slid under her dormitory door.
"By decree of the Royal Council, Lin Wei is to present herself at the palace immediately…"