Samantha's POV
After they left, I quietly packed up what little I had.
I was nearly done when my phone buzzed.
A message from Ethan lit up the screen:
[Samantha, stay in the servant’s room for the next two days. I’ll take you to see the new house soon.]
A soft attempt at affection, maybe. But it was too late for that. I didn’t reply.
Instead, I picked up my things and moved into the servant’s room, one step at a time, feeling every ounce of weight in my chest. This used to be my home. Now it felt like a cage.
...
That night, the house was dead quiet—until it wasn’t.
Bethany’s scream ripped down the hallway, followed by the sound of drawers slamming and cabinets flung open. Her voice climbed higher, frantic, searching.
I stayed where I was. Not my problem.
Or so I thought.
Moments later, my door burst open. Bethany stood there with a small entourage behind her, eyes wild.
“My engagement ring is missing!” she snapped. “I’m looking for it in here.”
I didn’t move. Just raised a brow.
“Miss White,” I said calmly, “if your ring is missing, why are you searching my room?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Because everyone knows how you feel about Ethan. Don’t play innocent, you little bitch! You stole it.”
One of her friends shot me a smug, disgusted look like I was already guilty.
Right then, Ethan walked in.
“What’s going on?” Ethan asked, his voice clipped.
Bethany ran straight into his arms, playing the perfect damsel.
“Ethan,” she whimpered. “My ring’s gone. I was just checking in here, and she started making a scene!”
One of the women answered for her. “We thought we should check Samantha’s room, but she refused to let us in.”
Ethan turned to me, face unreadable. “Move.”
“Move?” I repeated, my voice catching. “You think I took her ring?”
I stood my ground, trying to hold back the burn behind my eyes. “And if I don’t move? What then?”
He stared at me, his voice flat. “Then get out.”
It was like he drove a knife straight through my chest—and twisted.
The man I’d followed for over ten years was now the one cutting me down.
My voice dropped to a whisper. “Fine.”
I stepped aside.
Bethany and her friend stormed in like they owned the place.
Less than two minutes later, Bethany let out a triumphant gasp.
“I found it!” she cried, holding the ring up like a trophy. “It was under her pillow!”
I froze.
She couldn't have found it that quickly unless she put it there herself. This was never about a lost ring. Bethany had set me up.
“I didn’t do this. I’ve never touched that ring.” My voice barely came out.
Ethan didn’t flinch. His eyes scanned the room with chilling detachment.
“But it was found in your room,” he said coldly. “That’s physical evidence. Witnesses. What else is there to say?”
Before I could even form a reply, one of Bethany’s friends stepped forward and slapped me across the face.
“You’re just a servant,” she sneered. “Don’t get ideas just because Ethan kept you around for a while. You think stealing a ring means you can steal her place, too?”
I held my cheek and calmly said, "I told you I didn’t take it. You clearly put the ring in my room..."
“Shut up,” Ethan barked. His voice was sharp, disgusted.
He looked at me like I was filth as he continued, “You have three hours. Pack your things and get out of my house.”
I blinked, feeling my heart twist in on itself. “Ethan… you’re really kicking me out?”
He didn’t even blink.
“I moved into this house with you over ten years ago,” I said, my voice shaking. “You told me this would always be my home. And now, over a ring, a lie, you're throwing me out?”
Bethany scoffed from behind him. “You are so shameless! You stole my ring, and now you're trying to play victim? Still clinging to Ethan like some pathetic leech. You just can't quit him, can you?”
