Once A Servant, Now A Legend

Chapter Seven

The elevator doors had barely opened before Madam Hillary Smith’s voice sliced through the air like a whip. “Stop right there.”

Jeff paused mid-step, jaw tightening. He had been hoping to end this encounter with a polite nod and quiet retreat. No such luck.

She stood in the corridor, her friends crowding behind her like an audience at a play, their painted lips already curling into judgmental smiles.

“Did I say you could go?” Hillary’s tone dripped with authority, the same tone she used to scold servants, the same one she had used on him countless times before.

Jeff’s eyes flicked to her, calm but glacial. “Madam Smith,” he said evenly, “I have nothing more to say. I’ve already discussed the divorce with Genevieve. From now on, my life has nothing to do with your family.”

A ripple of whispers passed among her friends. “Divorce? So it’s true.”

Hillary’s painted smile turned cold. “Divorce doesn’t mean you get to disregard your elders.” 

She snapped. “I’m still your senior. It’s only natural for someone of my age to care about the younger generation’s whereabouts.” 

Her gaze shifted pointedly to Lena beside him, her voice dropping into a sneer. “Or is there something you’re hiding, Jeff? A little secret you don’t want the family to know?”

Lena stiffened under the weight of her stare, then Hillary’s expression twisted into open mockery. “So this is your mistress?” 

She drawled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You always did have low taste, you really aren’t picky about anything, are you?”

The laughter that followed was cruel and shrill. Jeff’s voice cut through it like a blade. “Show some respect.”

That only made her laugh harder. She bent slightly, clutching her side as tears of amusement glittered at the corners of her eyes. “Respect? From you? Don’t make me laugh. A vampire who lived off my daughter’s money for three years dares to talk about respect?”

The friends joined in, their jeers swelling like a chorus. “He’s got nerve!” “Look at him pretending to be calm, he must be dying of shame!”

Lena’s face went pale. She took a step forward, voice trembling but clear. “Enough. You’ve said enough.”

All eyes turned to her. “Whether he’s your son-in-law or not,” she said, “he’s still a man worthy of respect. You don’t have to humiliate him like this.”

For a heartbeat, silence. Then Hillary’s eyes flashed, venomous. “Shut up!” she barked. “Who do you think you are, interfering when I’m teaching a worthless junior a lesson?”

Lena flinched but stood her ground. She didn’t want to meddle in other people’s family affairs, especially when this woman was clearly misunderstanding her relationship with Jeff.

But watching him be insulted like that… she couldn’t stay silent. “Madam,” she said carefully, “I think you’ve misunderstood. Mr. Benson only brought me here to, ”

“Oh, I get it now,” Hillary interrupted, her tone turning mockingly sweet. “So you two have slept together, haven’t you? And let me guess, he’s given you money, hasn’t he?”

Her words hit like poison. Lena’s face went scarlet. “That’s not.”

Before she could finish, Hillary shoved her roughly, voice rising. “Shameless slut! Hand it over, all the money he gave you. It’s my family’s, not yours!”

Lena stumbled back, nearly falling, but Jeff caught her by the wrist and pulled her behind him. 

His expression darkened, eyes cold as winter steel. “That’s enough.” His voice was soft but carried the weight of command. “Don’t make a scene, Madam. There’s nothing improper between us.”

Hillary scoffed. “Nothing improper? And yet you bring her to a hotel?”

“She’s looking for a place to stay,” Jeff said tightly. “I was helping her find one.”

Lena nodded quickly. “That’s true. Mr. Benson just brought me here to view the apartment.”

For a moment, Hillary blinked, thrown off balance. Then she burst out laughing, a loud, ugly sound that echoed down the corridor. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said between laughs, looking at Lena as if she were a child. “You actually believe that? That this loser owns an apartment here?”

The other women tittered, feeding off her cruelty. “Oh, darling, he can barely afford a broom closet!”

“Maybe he’s just showing you the janitor’s quarters!”

Hillary smirked, basking in their laughter. “My new son-in-law, Fred, bought our place right upstairs. A real penthouse, not this rented showpiece. You should’ve come with me instead, dear, you might’ve learned what real success looks like.”

Lena’s hands curled into fists. She opened her mouth to retort, but Jeff gently shook his head. “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

She hesitated, then nodded, following him into the elevator. The doors slid shut behind them.

From the other side, Hillary’s triumphant laughter rang out. “Running away already? You little brat, you got lucky this time! Next time, I’ll tear your skin off!”

Her friends exchanged uneasy glances. One of them murmured, “Hillary, maybe it’s best not to provoke them. We came to see the new apartment, remember?”

The reminder softened her expression. She exhaled dramatically, pretending to calm herself. “Of course, of course. I’m not that petty.”

Still muttering about respect and ungrateful men, she pulled a sleek card key from her purse. “Let’s go. Fred reserved the presidential suite for me, he insisted, though I told him not to waste money. My daughter isn’t materialistic, you know.”

The women nodded admiringly, eager to follow. “You’re so lucky, Hillary. Your future son-in-law is truly devoted!”

Hillary chuckled, lifting her chin. “He even said I could move in with them, he wants to take care of me personally. Such a filial man.”

Her friends gushed louder, showering her with praise as they reached the door. With a flourish, Hillary slid the key card into the slot. 

The panel blinked red. “Hmm?” She tried again. Red. Her smile wavered. “Maybe I swiped it too fast.” Another try. Red again.

A bead of sweat formed on her temple. “Strange. Fred said this was the right one…”

She tried once more, swiping harder this time. Beep, red. Nothing. Her friends began whispering nervously. “Maybe it’s the wrong door?”

“Or maybe the room isn’t ready yet?”

“Of course it’s the right one,” Hillary snapped, cheeks flushing. She jabbed the key card again, and again. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. Suddenly, a shrill alarm exploded through the hallway. Red lights flashed. “What, what’s happening?!” one of the women yelped.

Hillary froze, key card in hand, as the mechanical voice blared through the speakers: “Security alert. Unauthorized access detected.”

The women screamed. A moment later, the elevator dinged open, and hotel security stormed out, batons drawn. “Step away from the door!” one barked.

The group panicked. “Wait! It’s a misunderstanding!” Hillary cried, raising her hands.

“Identification!” the guard demanded, unmoved.

Hillary tried to maintain composure. “I’m Hillary Smith! My son-in-law booked this suite.”

“Step back!” The baton swung up threateningly.

Her friends scattered behind her, whispering frantically. “I told you not to touch anything!”

“Let’s get out of here before this gets worse!”

“Don’t move!” shouted another guard. “All of you, squat down!”

Hillary froze in disbelief. “W–what?”

“Now!”

The guards advanced. Under the blaring alarm and flashing red lights, the proud Madam Smith, so recently boasting about her family’s wealth, slowly sank to her knees, trembling, surrounded by her frightened friends.

Her designer bag fell to the floor, spilling lipstick and pearls across the marble tiles.

In the distance, from the still-closed elevator, Jeff’s voice echoed faintly in Lena’s memory: ‘Don’t let people like that define your worth.’

And for the first time, she truly understood what he meant.