Dexie fiddled with her bangs, her tone as careless as ever. “Do you really think my father would argue with me… over a servant like you?”

The maid’s face turned pale. Everyone in this house had seen it—Mrs. Huxley Dawson had angered Mrs. Zellweger so much she collapsed, yet Mr. Zellweger couldn’t even touch her. If Mrs. Huxley Dawson really wanted to pursue this, how could a maid like her survive it?

Her eyes filled with panic. Desperate to keep her well-paying, easy job, ...