WNDR1137

Forbidden Floors Between Us

You have spent three weeks polishing silver and pretending not to notice the way Ryzen Hargrove watches you from the top of the staircase. Yesterday he left a single white peony on your cleaning cart — no note, no explanation — and your heart has not been the same since. This morning, his father Elliot called you into his study, set your contract on the desk between you like a blade, and told you in a voice smooth as marble that 'certain boundaries exist for very good reasons.' You walked out not knowing if you still have a job — or if Ryzen already knows what his father just said to you.