Amelia's POV

I stepped into the bright, immaculate office of CR Recruitment Agency, my heart thudding as I approached the woman sitting behind the desk. She looked up, her auburn hair neatly tied back, a calm professionalism in her demeanor.

"Good morning, ma'am," I greeted her, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Good morning. Please, take a seat," she responded, her voice polite but firm.

It had been a month since I’d landed in Greece, searching relentlessly for a job. Living with Lana, my late mother’s friend’s daughter, had been my only saving grace. Her small, two-bedroom apartment in Athens had become my temporary haven, but I knew I couldn’t rely on her hospitality forever. I needed to find work—and fast.

After countless rejections, CR Recruitment had finally called me in, offering a position that was far from ideal: a maid at the Royal Palace. It wasn’t what I had hoped for, but the pay was far better than anything else I’d come across. Desperation leaves little room for pride.

"Miss Winston, I’m Mrs. Mariana Jones, and I’ll be conducting your interview today." The woman smiled warmly, her eyes kind but discerning.

I smiled back, forcing calmness into my demeanor as the interview began. She asked about my education, my work history, even my cooking skills—things that had little to do with my qualifications but everything to do with the job at hand.

And then, the question I had been dreading.

"Tell me about your parents, Miss Winston."

I inhaled deeply, steadying my nerves. I’d practiced this lie countless times, knowing the truth was far too dangerous to share.

"They died five years ago in a car accident. My grandmother raised me after that, but she passed away last year. I’ve been staying with a family friend here in Greece since I had no one left back in New York." The words came out smoothly, but inside, I was bracing myself, praying she wouldn’t probe deeper.

Mrs. Jones gave me a sympathetic look. "I’m sorry to hear that. It must’ve been incredibly difficult for you."

I nodded, offering a small, practiced smile. "It was, but life goes on."

The interview continued without a hitch, and soon Mrs. Jones stood, extending her hand. "Thank you, Miss Winston. We’ll contact you by this evening if you’ve been selected for the position."

I left the office, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt. The lie weighed heavily on me, but I had no choice. I needed this job, and the truth wasn’t an option.

When I got back to Lana’s apartment, she greeted me with her usual bubbly energy. "How did it go?" she asked, eyes full of hope.

"It went well, I think," I replied, trying to match her optimism.

"You’re overqualified for this job, Amy. I’m sure they’ll pick you," Lana said with a grin. "Now, freshen up—I made pasta all’uovo. You must be starving."

I smiled, grateful for her relentless positivity. "More than you know."

Later that evening, as I scrolled through my phone, an email notification popped up. My heart raced as I opened it.

Miss Amelia Winston,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the position at the Royal Palace. Please report to Gate No. 2 at 8 a.m. sharp tomorrow for further protocols. Attached is your official offer letter, which must be presented for entry. We look forward to having you on board.

Regards,

CR Recruitment Agency.

I jumped up from the couch, excitement flooding me. "I got the job!" I shouted, and Lana rushed over, pulling me into a celebratory hug.

We toasted the night with margaritas, laughter filling the small apartment. For the first time in a while, I felt a glimmer of hope. This job could be the fresh start I so desperately needed.

But as I sipped my drink, my phone buzzed again. I glanced down and froze. A new message, from an unknown number.

You can’t hide forever, Amelia.

My stomach dropped, the elation from moments before draining away. I stared at the message, the sense of victory fading into cold dread.