SPLASH!The shock wasn't even the worst part. No, what hit deeper was the way the icy water seemed to seize up his already aching muscles, rooting him to the threadbare mattress.Elias couldn't even bring himself to get up on reaction to the shock. He was too exhausted to. He just opened his eyes, letting the drips roll off his eyelashes, and looked up at the towering silhouette of his mother-in-law, Victoria Shaw."Get up, you leech! Do you think we pay for your luxury sleep? It's almost seven! Get the trash out now before the collector comes." Victoria spoke, her voice naturally dropping to a low, guttural snarl, that was laced with the contempt she usually reserved for rotting garbage.Elias had been awake for hours, of course. He'd finished the laundry at 2 AM, scrubbed the patio at 4 AM, and only managed to slump onto the cot in the Shaw family's boys’ quarters (a glorified storage shed) just an hour ago. He was bone-tired, his shoulders screaming from hoisting the heavy, antiq

The smell of old cleaning chemicals and dust was heavy in the air. Elias didn't mind the dark; it was the cold that was truly his tormentor.The Shaw family’s "servants’ quarters" were not merely functional; they were intentionally punishing.It was a single, cement-floored room located in the deepest recess of the basement, usually reserved for storing broken garden tools. Tonight, it was his prison.Victoria had locked him in with a heavy, rusty padlock. Her reasoning was delivered with a sneer earlier that evening. It was simple: "You're a disgrace, Elias. I will not have my reputation ruined by a tramp who cuts his hand on a flower pot. We are hosting the Mayor tonight. Stay out of sight."The party was a lavish, frantic effort to restore the Shaws’ standing after the recent social scandal involving Preston. Victoria needed a win, and Elias knew his visible presence, his very uselessness, was a risk she wouldn't tolerate.Elias sat on the floor, leaning against a cold concrete pil

Elias walked into the the local market which was lit with fluorescent lights, a whole contrast to the usually oppressive gloom back at the Shaw mansion. Elias walked slowly down the snack aisle, the cheap, worn plastic bag he carried feeling heavy. Victoria had sent him out with exactly thirty dollars and a verbal list of half a dozen premium, imported items."Don't spend a penny over, you leech," she’d hissed that morning. "And if you buy the cheap brand of salmon, Seraphina will be disappointed. And when she’s disappointed, I'm disappointed. Do I make myself clear?"It was a setup. Thirty dollars wouldn't even cover the imported butter, let alone the wild-caught salmon and the French brie. He was being deliberately sent to fail so Victoria would have yet another reason to scold his wife for her poor choice of spouse.Elias was painfully aware of his presence. He was dressed in a faded, patched shirt and old trousers—the designated "chore clothes." His quiet, handsome features an

The gala ended, and Elias's clock of doom began ticking. Soon, they got back home and the smell of impending disaster lingered on the air. Victoria did not even wait for Elias to take off the black waiter’s uniform. She spun around in the marble ground, her silk gown rustling like dry leaves, and unleashed a torrent of fury.“You goddamn disgrace! You pathetic, insolent worm!” Victoria shrieked, the volume shaking the crystal above their heads. “Five million dollars! You cost us five million dollars! All because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut and remember that you are nothing! You were my ornament of pity, my reminder to Seraphina of what happens when she doesn’t listen to me! And you ruin it!?”Preston, predictably, sauntered down the stairs, a triumphant smirk on his face. “Well, Mother, at least now we know the waiter can talk. Too bad all he can say is rubbish. Thorne is pulling out of the deal. Good job, Elias. You’ve proven you’re a liability to the entire family.”Victoria