Dustin Hayes had kept me for three years, and everyone in the circle called me his pet. The day his first love, Scarlett Vance, returned, he told me to get lost. I not only got lost but also thoughtfully handed him a thick stack of papers. Dustin thought it was a letter of apology. He scoffed, opening it, but his smile froze. It was a “Service Itemized Bill” for the past one thousand and ninety-five days: “Hand-holding fee: $5,000/time; Drink-blocking fee: $20,000/bottle; Fake orgasm fee: $100,000/time (including acting premium).” I extended my hand, neither servile nor arrogant. “Mr. Hayes, once the final payment is cleared, we’re even.” Dustin’s eyes blazed as he shredded the document. “Aurora Miller, was there no genuine feeling in you during your time in this house?” I blinked, pulling out my calculator. “Genuine feeling? That’s an extra charge, Mr. Hayes. You didn’t purchase that.” 1 Dustin’s hand loosened, and the shredded paper fluttered down like snowflakes. “Aurora Miller, you’ve been in this house for three years. I was so good to you. You treated it like a business?” His voice was a furious hiss, thick with disbelief. “Mr. Hayes, that’s not fair to say.” I straightened my back. “Your ‘goodness’ to me… are you referring to the times these past three years when you’d get drunk and call Ms. Vance’s name, and I’d have to imitate her voice to coax you to sleep?” “Or when you’d bring me to parties, letting those trust fund brats mock me as a ‘knock-off’ while you silently stood by?” “Or was it…” “Are you blaming me?” He sneered, taking a step closer, his intimidating presence pressing down on me. “Mr. Hayes, what a thing to say.” I looked up, flashing the impeccable, professional smile he used to love. “I majored in finance. I don’t do unprofitable deals. For three years, I blocked eighty-six drinks for you, dealt with twenty-four gold-diggers trying to worm their way in, and had to cater to your emotional needs every night. These are all labor costs.” “Zero—eighty-six multiplied by ten, plus…” I shoved the calculator screen into his face. “Let’s round it down to $24 million. Considering you’re bringing Ms. Vance back, I’ll give you a two percent discount. I wish you both a hundred years of happiness.” Dustin glared at the number, his chest heaving violently. “Fine. Very fine.” He waved his hand, sweeping the calculator to the floor. Dustin looked at me. “The Miller family still owes me fifty million. If you leave now, how will that debt be settled?” I crouched down, picked up the calculator, and reset it. “Mr. Hayes has a poor memory,” I said, standing up and dusting off my knees. “The merger I helped you secure last month, with the commission and my base salary, perfectly offset the last portion of the debt. The bank statement was sent to your email yesterday.” Dustin hadn’t checked his email. He sat on the couch and lit a cigarette. Smoke rose, obscuring his eyes. “So, you use me up and then want to leave?” He exhaled a smoke ring. “Scarlett just got back, and you’re in such a hurry to disrespect me?” “The contract expired,” I corrected him. “My employment with you ends today.” The sound of the fingerprint lock unlocking echoed from the entryway. The door opened. Scarlett Vance stood there in a white dress, holding a limited-edition Hermes bag. She saw the shredded paper on the floor, then looked at me. “Dustin, am I interrupting?” Scarlett stood still, clutching her bag strap. Dustin snuffed out his cigarette and stood up, walking toward Scarlett. As he passed me, he deliberately bumped my shoulder. The force was heavy. I staggered half a step, barely keeping my balance. Dustin took Scarlett’s bag, placed it on the cabinet, then turned to look at me. “Who said you could leave?” He sneered. “When you signed the contract, supplementary clause number ten stated clearly: ‘Before Party A agrees to terminate the contract, Party B must unconditionally renew for three months as a transition period.’” He lifted his chin, gesturing toward Scarlett. “Scarlett just returned from abroad. She’s delicate and can’t handle stress.” He continued, “I won’t find anyone suitable so quickly. Until I find a professional caretaker, you’ll stay and serve her.” I was stunned. “Mr. Hayes, won’t you find me an eyesore?” Dustin didn’t speak, just stared at me coldly. I took a deep breath, relighting the screen of my calculator. “That’s an extra charge.” The next morning, at six AM. I woke up precisely on time and appeared in the kitchen. Dustin had a stomach condition, so his breakfast was always freshly ground black soybean milk and warm sandwiches. Scarlett had low blood sugar, requiring bird's nest soup no matter how late she woke. These were all part of my “professional skill set.” At seven-thirty, Dustin came downstairs. He wore a dark grey custom suit, his tie still undone. In the past, I would have walked over, taken his tie, and stood on tiptoes to knot it for him. That was my “Warm Morning Service,” priced at two thousand per instance. Today, I merely stood behind the counter, chopping fruit. Dustin walked to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He glanced at the empty table, then at me. “My tie,” he said. I put down my knife, dried my hands, and walked over to him. But instead of taking his tie, I pulled out my phone and displayed a QR code for payment. “Tie-tying service, two thousand per instance.” I held the screen to him. “Mr. Hayes, please scan first.” Dustin’s movements halted. He stared at the QR code, his chest rising and falling slightly. “Aurora Miller,” he used my full name, “are you obsessed with money?” “Professionalism,” I replied, expressionless. “No credit.” Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Scarlett came down in silk pajamas, her face flushed with sleep. “Dustin, are you arguing so early?” She walked to Dustin’s side, naturally taking the tie from his hand. “Let me help you. Aurora used to be a socialite too; she’s not used to these servant tasks.” She stood on tiptoes, clumsily fumbling with the tie around Dustin’s neck. Dustin didn’t push her away, his eyes fixed on me. Scarlett tried three times, the tie knot crooked and loose around Dustin’s neck. “Oh, it’s so hard,” Scarlett pouted. “Dustin, am I very clumsy?” Dustin finally tore his gaze from me, looking down at Scarlett. “It’s fine. I’m not in a hurry.” He gently held Scarlett’s hands, teaching her how to tie the knot. They were close, their breaths mingling. I stood beside them, checking my watch. Seven forty-five. “Mr. Hayes, Ms. Vance,” I began. “According to the agreement, my work hours begin when you both start your meal. Since this is currently a teaching session, I’ll return to my room.” I turned to leave. “Stop.” Dustin’s voice was cold. I paused. “Come here.” Dustin pointed at the bird’s nest soup on the table. “Scarlett’s hands are sensitive to heat. You feed her.” Scarlett’s face reddened. “No need, Dustin, I can manage myself…” “Let her feed you.” Dustin looked at me, his eyes chilling. “She’s getting paid, so she should do the work.” I walked to the table and picked up the steaming bowl of bird’s nest soup. I stirred it with the spoon, a wisp of steam rising. I scooped a spoonful and brought it to Scarlett’s lips. Scarlett glanced at Dustin, then opened her mouth. The moment the spoon touched her lips, she suddenly flinched, leaning her head back and wildly swinging her hand. “It’s so hot!” she cried. The porcelain bowl crashed to the floor. The scalding bird’s nest soup splattered, a large portion hitting the back of my hand and wrist. My skin immediately turned red. Scarlett clutched her chest, her eyes welling up. “I’m sorry, Aurora, I didn’t mean to, it was really too hot…” Dustin immediately pulled Scarlett closer, checking her face and neck. “Did you get burned?” he asked, his voice anxious. After confirming Scarlett was fine, he turned to look at me. Two shiny blisters had formed on the back of my hand. Dustin’s gaze lingered on my hand for a second, then moved away. “You can’t even do such a simple task.” Dustin said. “Clean it up.” I lowered my hand, the blisters stinging as they brushed against my sleeve. “Understood,” I said. I bent down, picking up the shattered porcelain pieces from the floor. My hands pricked with blood, but I didn’t say a word. At eight PM, there was a private dinner at the Hayes mansion. It was to celebrate Scarlett’s return. Dustin had given me a black uniform, assigning me the task of serving drinks and guiding guests. I, the former partner, was now a server. Everyone in the elite circle found it amusing, eager to see the fallen socialite Aurora Miller made a spectacle of. I changed into my uniform and moved through the crowd with a tray. Someone deliberately bumped my shoulder, spilling wine. “Well, well, isn’t that Aurora Miller?” a woman in a red dress giggled, covering her mouth. “What, did Mr. Hayes not give you a severance package?” I recognized her. In the past, to curry favor with Dustin, I’d been forced to drink three shots of hard liquor for her. “Ms. Sterling,” I took out a cloth and wiped the tray. “Champagne is ten thousand a bottle. You spilled half a glass, so that’s five thousand for the damage. Card or transfer?” The woman’s face changed. “Are you crazy?” “If you don’t want to pay,” I pointed to Dustin not far away, “that’s my employer. You can complain to him and have him deduct it from my salary, but he usually demands ten times the compensation from the person who caused the damage.” The woman glared at me and left. In the center of the hall, Dustin, arm in arm with Scarlett, was toasting guests. Scarlett wore a couture gown, a sapphire necklace adorning her neck. I had seen that necklace before. It was my late mother’s heirloom, and the most valuable item I’d pawned to Dustin. I stood in the shadows, watching the necklace sparkle under the lights. Dustin seemed to sense my gaze and turned his head. He raised his wine glass, toasting vaguely in my direction. A hint of mockery played on his lips. Scarlett followed his gaze, then leaned in and whispered something to Dustin. Dustin nodded. Scarlett gracefully walked towards me. She stood before me, her fingers caressing the necklace. “Aurora, Dustin said this necklace was your mother’s,” Scarlett said with a smile. “It’s beautiful, I really love it. He said he gave it to me, you don’t mind, do you?” I looked at the sapphire. “It’s his property,” I said, my voice low. “It has nothing to do with me.” “As long as you don’t mind.” Scarlett took a glass of red wine from a waiter’s tray. “To show my gratitude, I’d like to toast you.” She held out the glass to me. I reached out to take it. Scarlett’s hand suddenly released its grip. The glass didn’t land in my hand; instead, it dropped directly onto her skirt. Red wine splattered, staining the white fabric. “Ah!” Scarlett shrieked, stepping back two paces, even stumbling and falling to the floor. The surroundings instantly fell silent. Dustin pushed through the crowd, rushing over to help Scarlett up. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dark as he looked at Scarlett’s disheveled state. Scarlett’s tears fell. “It’s not Aurora’s fault… I just didn’t hold it steady… maybe Aurora just didn’t want me to have the necklace…” Dustin’s head snapped up to look at me. I looked back at him. I offered no defense, because defending myself was not within my service scope. “Apologize,” Dustin said. I didn’t move. “Aurora Miller, I told you to apologize.” Dustin stood up, taking a step closer to me. “You’re a server here now. You soiled a guest’s dress; shouldn’t you apologize?” Everyone around us was watching the drama unfold. I calculated. If I didn’t apologize, he might deduct all my outstanding payments, or even use it as an excuse to keep the necklace. If I apologized, my dignity would be compromised, but I’d get the money. Dignity wasn’t worth anything. I bent at the waist, a ninety-degree bow. “I’m sorry, Ms. Vance,” my voice was steady. “My hand slipped and soiled your dress. I will cover the cleaning fee.” Dustin looked at me, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Compensation? Can you afford it?” He grabbed a bottle of red wine from the table. He pulled out the cork. Red liquid poured over my head. It was icy cold, sticky, and smelled of alcohol, running over my eyes, into my mouth. “This is compensation.” Dustin placed the empty bottle on the table. I closed my eyes, enduring the flow of liquid. “Understood, Mr. Hayes,” I said, wiping wine from my face. “Are we even now?” Scarlett, seemingly "shocked," developed a high fever that night. Dustin summoned the entire team of family doctors to the villa. I also had a fever. The wine poured on me hadn’t been washed off in time, coupled with days of non-stop work, and I too had fallen ill. But I was in the maid’s quarters; no one knew. At 10 PM. My phone suddenly vibrated. It was the hospital. “Ms. Miller, your father has suffered a sudden heart attack and is in critical condition. He needs surgery immediately, costing fifty thousand dollars. If payment isn’t received within half an hour, we can’t proceed.” I sat up in bed, my head spinning. I checked my balance. Only thirty thousand. All my previous money had gone to debt, and my salary hadn’t been processed yet. I stumbled out of the room and rushed upstairs to the second floor. The master bedroom door was ajar. Dustin was sitting by the bed, feeding Scarlett water. I pushed the door open. Dustin frowned, turning back. “Who let you in? Get out.” I clutched the doorframe, supporting myself. “Dustin,” my voice was hoarse, “pay me my wages. Now.” “Are you insane?” Dustin put down the water glass, lowering his voice. “Quiet down, Scarlett just fell asleep.” “My dad is in the hospital, fighting for his life.” I stared at him. “I need money. It’s what I’m owed.” Dustin stood up, walked to the door, pushed me out, and then closed the door behind him. In the hallway, he looked down at me. “Your dad’s fighting for his life?” Dustin sneered. “Aurora Miller, to get money, you’d even tell such a lie? Didn’t you say last month your dad was recovering?” “It’s true.” I grabbed his sleeve. “Please. Give me the remaining payment. Even twenty thousand would help.” Dustin shook off my hand. I hit the wall, sliding to the floor. “No.” Dustin straightened his cuff. “If you want money, kneel here. Kneel until morning, and I’ll believe you.” With that, he turned to go back into the room. “Dustin!” I called out to him. “That’s a human life!” Dustin stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Scarlett had a nightmare just now; she needs company,” he said. “Don’t make any more noise, or you won’t get a single penny.” The door closed. The hallway was utterly silent. I pulled out my phone, sending messages to everyone in my contacts, begging for money. No one replied. Old friends had long since blocked me. Time ticked by, second by second. Until midnight. My phone vibrated again. It was a text message, from the hospital. [Patient John Miller, despite all efforts, passed away at eleven fifty-eight PM. Please come to the hospital as soon as possible to handle the arrangements.] I stared at the words on the screen. I knew each one, but I couldn’t grasp what they meant together. From inside the room, Scarlett’s soft voice reached me: “Dustin, I’m scared…” Then Dustin’s gentle whisper: “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” I pushed myself up against the wall, slowly standing. The fever seemed to have broken. My body felt strangely cold, and strangely light. I turned, and went downstairs. Back in the maid’s room, I opened my suitcase. Inside were only a few old clothes. I took out the “Service Itemized Bill” I’d kept for three years and placed it on the table. Picking up a pen, I wrote a line on the last page. [Funeral expenses: Priceless.] [Status: Paid by Aurora Miller herself.] [Balance: We’re even.] I tore off this page and taped it to the door. Then, dragging my suitcase, I walked out of the Hayes mansion. Outside, it was raining heavily. I didn’t have an umbrella. The rain washed away the lingering smell of red wine on me. I pulled the SIM card from my phone and threw it into a roadside drain. This time, no calculator was needed. Our accounts were settled.
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