When I got home, I found the maid wearing a nightgown that revealed her long, smooth legs. I didn’t think twice—I grabbed her and pulled her into the room. But when my hand slipped inside the maid’s dress… I staggered back in shock….
It was already 11 p.m.
I stumbled out of the taxi, the smell of alcohol escaping with every breath.
It had been a very successful night entertaining clients, so I was in a great mood.
But beneath that happiness lay a dark desire I had long hidden behind my respectable image.
That desire was Lizy—the new kasambahay, only 20 years old, whom my wife hired two months ago.

Chapter 1: The Mask of Perfection
Manhattan at 11 p.m. possessed a grim beauty. Chilling winds from the East River swept through the glass and steel skyscrapers, creating a whistling sound like the city’s sighs.

I – Mark Vance – staggered out of the yellow taxi, the scent of 25-year-old Macallan still lingering in my breath. Tonight was a resounding victory. I had just signed a $400 million merger deal. At 45, I had it all: a financial empire, a million-dollar penthouse on the Upper East Side, and an impeccable reputation as the “exemplary gentleman” of New York’s elite.

But as the gilded elevator doors opened, leading directly to my apartment, that mask began to crack.

Beneath the glitz and glamour of a successful businessman, beneath the tailored suit from Savile Row, lay a dark desire I had been nurturing for the past two months. That desire was named Chloe – the 20-year-old maid my wife, Eleanor, had hired from a poor rural area in Ohio.

Eleanor was in Chicago attending an art auction. This large house tonight was just me… and Chloe.

Chapter 2: Dim Light and Snow-White Skin
I opened the door and stepped inside. The apartment was eerily quiet, only the dry ticking of the pendulum clock echoing in the spacious living room. Chloe’s delicate lavender scent still lingered in the air.

I loosened my tie and walked toward the bar, but my steps faltered.

Chloe was standing on the balcony overlooking the night view of Central Park. She wore only a thin, silvery-white silk nightgown, its short hem revealing her long, smooth, and pale legs under the dim city lights. That image choked my last vestiges of reason. The alcohol flowed through my veins like a stimulant, transforming all restraint into brutality.

“Chloe,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

She startled, turning around, her large, round eyes filled with a mixture of fear and confusion. “Mr. Vance… I didn’t know you’d be home so early.”

I didn’t answer. I moved closer, feeling the warmth and pure scent emanating from the young woman’s body. The composure I’d painstakingly cultivated over two decades vanished completely. Only one thought remained in my mind: I had to possess her.

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed her wrist, a possessive grip, and pulled her forcefully toward the master bedroom. “Mr. Vance! What are you doing? Let me go!” Chloe cried out in panic, but her weak resistance only fueled my frenzied excitement.

Chapter 3: The Climax – The Truth Beneath the Silk
I pushed her down onto the luxurious silk-sheeted bed and locked the door. The drunkenness had blinded me, leaving me only to see a prey.

“For the past two months, you’ve looked at me with those eyes,” I snarled, pinning her trembling body beneath me. “I gave you everything, Chloe. Money, this place… Now it’s time for you to pay your debt.”

“Don’t… please, sir…” Chloe sobbed, her hands pushing against my chest.

In a frenzy of rage, I roughly grabbed the hem of her nightgown, intending to tear it apart to satisfy my long-held desire. But the moment my hand slipped beneath her silk dress, nearing her thigh, a strange sensation sent my entire nervous system freezing.

I wasn’t touching the smooth skin I’d imagined.

What my fingers touched was a cold, rigid, metallic object. A chilling coldness, utterly alien to the life of a 20-year-old body.

I recoiled, my breath catching in my throat. The drunkenness vanished in an instant, replaced by a bone-chilling sobriety.

Under the dim bedside lamp, I looked down. Chloe wasn’t crying anymore. She sat up, calmly adjusting her dress, revealing a complex electronic device attached to her thigh by a titanium frame – a high-tech prosthetic leg with an integrated voice recorder and satellite navigation system.

And on her remaining calf, a small tattoo appeared that made me want to vomit: “The Will of Silence – The Thorne Corporation’s Property.”

Chapter 4: The Twist – The Hunter Becomes the Hunted
“Mr. Vance,” Chloe said. Her voice no longer held the innocent tone of an Ohio girl. It was a cold, professional, and menacing tone. “For the past ten minutes, every action and word of yours has been broadcast live to the state attorney’s office and… to Mrs. Eleanor’s phone.”

I staggered back, collapsing into the armchair. “Who… who are you? You’re not Chloe.”

“My real name is Sarah Thorne,” she stood up, her figure strangely tall and authoritative. “The daughter of Elias Thorne – the man you sent to prison ten years ago with fabricated evidence to take over his company. Do you remember the ‘accidental’ accident that took my father’s life in prison?”

Sarah (whom I call Chloe) approached me, each step a dry, metallic clacking sound on the wooden floor.

“My mother had to sell her life to survive, and I lost a child.”

“I’m so sorry for the house fire you staged to cover up the evidence. For the past ten years, I’ve lived in the silence of poverty and disability, preparing for this night.”

“My wife… Eleanor… she knows nothing…” I stammered, hoping for one last glimmer of hope.

“Eleanor?” Sarah scoffed, a laugh filled with contempt. “She’s the one who contacted me. She’s known about your hidden funds and extramarital affairs for a long time. She needed the perfect excuse to strip you of all control of the corporation without the legal complications of the prenuptial agreement.” And the ‘rape of a minor’ charge was a perfect excuse.

Chapter 5: The Purge of Silence
Just then, the bedroom door burst open. Not Eleanor. Three FBI agents along with the Sterling family’s private lawyer.

“Mark Vance, you are arrested for sexual assault and financial fraud,” one agent said, while the other coldly locked my hands behind my back.

I looked toward Sarah. She was removing her high-tech prosthetic leg, revealing a tiny camera hidden in the joint. Her father’s will of silence wasn’t money, but patience to wait for the day her enemy would unmask himself.

I thought I was a hunter toying with a young prey. I didn’t know I was stepping into a grave dug ten years earlier, covered with layers of silk and artificial lavender scent.

Chapter 6: The Author’s Conclusion
The story ends as the police car leaves the Upper East Side, merging into the flow of Manhattan. Mark Vance – the exemplary billionaire – is now a criminal reviled by the world.

In the penthouse, Sarah stands alone, looking out at the park. She feels no joy, only an empty silence. The will has been executed. The silence has been broken.

In the darkness of the New York night, the truth always reveals itself in the most brutal way: That what we most desire to possess is often what will completely destroy us.

The author’s message: Never underestimate the patience of those you have trampled upon. Because when they return, they will not bring tears, but a perfect trap woven from your darkest desires.