Chapter 69
69:
The bodyguards, rigid and unreadable just moments before, now quaked with unease.
Aylin stepped forward, bowing to Christina. “Miss Jones, we were all assigned by Mr. Scott to serve you. If you let us go, we’ll all lose our jobs… Please, don’t turn us away! Without this job, I don’t know how my family will survive. My husband’s illness is rare—the medication costs a fortune, and it’s only available overseas. If I’m fired, my family will fall apart. My daughter’s always been devoted, and she’d never walk out on me or my husband, but I don’t want to be a burden to her…”
Tears streaming, Aylin added, “Miss Jones, I’m begging you—give me any task, no matter how hard. Just let me work for you.”
A chorus of desperate voices echoed her plea. “Please, Miss Jones, don’t dismiss us! We have nowhere to go—we’re pleading with you…”
One by one, the household staff spilled their stories, each more heartbreaking than the last. Every family seemed to be hanging by a thread. If their words held any truth, losing this job would destroy them. Still, the coincidence nagged at Christina—could every one of them truly be so desperate?
A crease formed between her brows. “That’s not going to happen. If you leave here, you won’t be out of work. Weren’t you all Scott family staff to begin with? If you go back to provide service, I’m sure the Scott family will take you back. Why would you end up unemployed?”
Aylin’s voice trembled, eyes growing glossy. “Miss Jones, it’s not that simple. Once the Scott family sends someone away to serve elsewhere, there’s no going back. If we’re not needed anymore, it’s as if we’ve been banished for good. The pay offered by the Scott family is the highest we’ll ever see, and after working here, no other rich family would trust us—they’d think we’re spies or have our own agenda. Landing another decent job just isn’t possible.”
Christina considered the Scott family’s rigid structure. She’d always known they were strict, but she hadn’t realized the rules were this unforgiving. Still, for a family wielding such influence, it fit. Even among relatives, rivalries ran deep—if siblings could turn on each other, what chance did outsiders have?
M0re detailz at g𝒶l𝓷ovels.𝓬𝓸𝓶
The Scott family’s oppressive rules were nothing new. Their relentless vigilance was likely the very reason they’d managed to maintain their power for generations. Even so, Christina had no intention of keeping so many people around—especially when she had no plans to live here for long. This mansion wasn’t truly hers, just a place she used to show Brendon and his crew that she was flourishing on her own.
“Please, Miss Jones, don’t take away our only means of survival!” Aylin pleaded, her tears spilling unchecked down her cheeks.
Moved by their desperation, Christina finally gave in. “Fine. You can stay here for now. I’ll talk to Dylan and see if something can be worked out for all of you.”
She resolved to try convincing Dylan to bring the staff back into the Scott family’s residence.
“Thank you, Miss Jones! We’ll give you our absolute best and never betray your trust!” Aylin promised, her gratitude shining through.
“We’re grateful for your generosity, Miss Jones! Our loyalty is yours!” the rest of the staff chimed in, their unified voices ringing out with a fierce, almost ceremonial resolve, as if they were reciting an oath in a period drama.
Had Christina been born in another century, she might have mistaken their devotion for the kind that sparked revolutions, ready to charge into battle at her command.
“Go on, you’re dismissed for now,” Christina said, pinching the bridge of her nose as a dull ache started to build behind her eyes.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Dylan’s number, only to be met with a dead line. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face, but she chose not to dwell on it—she’d circle back to it with Dylan when the moment felt right.
Just then, her stomach let out a loud, impatient growl, making her painfully aware she’d skipped breakfast in all the earlier chaos.
Before she could hunt down something to eat, a servant stepped forward, bowing with careful deference. “Miss Jones, there’s a visitor outside requesting to see you.”
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