(Lila's POV)
The Beaumont estate didn't just sit on land.
It ruled it.
From the wrought-iron gates to the glass-walled mansion that gleamed like a promise no one else could afford, everything about the Beaumonts spoke of power quiet, untouchable power. The kind that didn't need to shout. The kind that expected obedience.
My mother used to say the house had a heartbeat.
I believed her.
We had lived on the Beaumont property for as long as I could remember long enough that the marble floors recognized my footsteps, long enough that the security guards barely glanced at us anymore. My mother had started working for the Beaumont family before I was born. Twenty years of spotless service. Twenty years of silence.
I had grown up in the maids' quarters behind the gardens, close enough to luxury to smell it, far enough to never touch it.
We belonged to the Beaumonts.
Not officially.
But in every way that mattered.
Mr. Beaumont was the kind of man people bowed to without realizing they were doing it.
Charles Beaumont owned half the skyline in the city real estate, technology investments, private equity firms that operated behind closed doors.
His name carried weight in boardrooms and fear in negotiations,when he walked through the mansion, conversations stopped.
Staff straightened,even his wife lowered her voice.
He rarely smiled.
When he did, it never reached his eyes.
Mrs. Beaumont was power refined.
Evelyn Beaumont was elegance carved into bone tailored dresses, flawless posture, diamonds worn like punctuation marks. She ran the household the way her husband ran his empire: efficiently, ruthlessly, and without room for weakness.
Appearances mattered to her more than truth.
Especially when it came to her sons.
The Beaumont twins were Nineteen and already legends.
Axel and Adrian Beaumont looked identical at first glance same height, same dark hair, same sharp cheekbones inherited from their father. But that illusion shattered the moment you looked closer.
Adrian was perfection made flesh.
He dressed impeccably, spoke politely, and carried himself like the heir everyone expected him to be. Teachers adored him. Adults trusted him. His future was already mapped out in clean lines and approved decisions.
Axel was the flaw no one talked about.
He wore rebellion quietly untucked rules, defiant silences, eyes that never softened. His uniform hid things his parents refused to acknowledge. Tattoos beneath crisp sleeves. Piercings that disappeared the moment Mrs. Beaumont was near. He smiled rarely, and when he did, it felt like a warning.
They shared a face.
They did not share a soul.
I saw them every morning from the small window of the maids' house.
Chauffeured cars waited. Drivers opened doors.
Futures rolled out of the gates with polished ease.
And then there was me.
Lila.
The maid's daughter.
I attended the same elite school as the Beaumont twins.not because I belonged there, but because my grades were too good to ignore and my background too easy to whisper about. A scholarship badge pinned to my uniform marked me as different before I ever spoke.
At school, I was tolerated.
At home, I was invisible.
My mother scrubbed marble floors beneath Mrs. Beaumont's heels. I folded clothes that cost more than our monthly groceries.
I memorized the rhythms of the house the quiet hours, the forbidden corridors, the places where people like us weren't supposed to linger.
And yet, this house raised me as much as my mother did.
I knew its secrets.
I just didn't know yet which ones would destroy me.
That morning, as the Beaumont cars disappeared beyond the gates, I pressed my forehead against the glass.
Two identical figures sat in the backseat of different cars.
One future written in gold.
One shadow pretending not to care.
And me?
I was standing between worlds that were never meant to collide.
I didn't know it then, but the Beaumonts had already shaped my life.
And soon they would break it.