/0/81439/coverbig.jpg?v=a70808596e1cdc625cee7f9d850b70d8)
The job interview at Kingsley Empire was a week ago, and I still hadn't started preparing. That needed to change. I pulled out my old computer, wiped off the dust, and began my research.
What I discovered shouldn't have scared me–but it did.
Kingsley Empire had a reputation. A fierce one.
It was called a "no-mistake zone." One misstep and you'd be punished. No pardon. No second chance. The rules were clear. The only upside was the pay–exceptionally high, especially for a maid. But competition was brutal. The job might sound like just being a maid, but within the Kingsley Empire, that role carried intense responsibility. Over 100 workers served under the organization, yet they all worked beneath one name, one power–Sebastian Kingsley, the only son of the Kingsley family.
They called him many things:
The Lion.
The Ice Prince.
The No-Nonsense Heir.
The Man Who Makes No Mistakes.
The Punisher.
The Untouchable.
I stared at his photo. He looked familiar. I couldn't quite place where I had seen him before, or if I was just imagining it. After all, how could someone like me have ever met someone like him?
After doing my research, I rolled out my mat and lay beside my mother on the hospital bed. We had been evicted from our home and had nowhere else to stay. No friends. No family. Just each other.
Even with a heavy heart, I managed to sleep.
---
In the morning, we received an unexpected visitor-Natalie, my mom's childhood friend. I stepped out to give them privacy for nearly two hours. I wondered what they could possibly be discussing. Natalie wasn't particularly a good or bad friend. She was an orphan like my mom and had helped us out once with a little money. Since then, she only called once in a while-never visited, not even when mom was hospitalized last year.
So her showing up now? Strange.
After their long talk, Natalie finally left, and mom turned to me.
"Go dress well. We have somewhere important to go."
I frowned. "Where? And mom, you're still not well. You shouldn't be moving around yet."
"I'm fine now. Enough questions. Just go and get dressed."
Her tone wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
Still confused, I got ready and returned to her.
"Mom, seriously, where are we going? I'm not a child."
She looked at me with a seriousness I hadn't seen in a long time.
"We're going to your father's house. He needs to be reminded that he has a beautiful daughter."
I scoffed. "Mom, to him, we're dead. He doesn't even remember we exist."
"We'll take that risk," she insisted. "If he accepts you, it could change everything. For both of us."
"Mom, this is more than a risk. This man abandoned you! Let me guess-Natalie told you to do this?"
"I'm your mother. You'll listen to me."
---
We arrived at Charles Whittemore's mansion.
Calling it a house would be insulting. It was a wealth incarnate. The kind of property that could buy fifty other mansions. Grandeur dripped from every corner. This wasn't just luxury-it was royalty.
At the gate, the bodyguard stopped us.
"Who do you want to see?"
"Charles Whittemore," my mom answered.
"From where? And what's your business with him?"
"My name is Diana Serene. I have a gift for him."
The guard disappeared inside. When he returned, it wasn't Charles he brought–but a woman and a girl.
"That's his wife and daughter," my mom whispered to me.
The woman looked us over with a mix of curiosity and disdain.
"So... what are you here for?" she asked, arms crossed.
"My name is Serena. Ma'am Regina. I'd like to speak to Mr. Charles privately."
"This is his wife," Regina snapped. "Anything you have to say, say it here."
Mom hesitated, visibly nervous. "This girl... she's his daughter. Her real name is Lily Whittemore. I'm here to request a DNA test."
Regina laughed. But it wasn't the kind of laugh that eases tension. It was cold. Dark. Mocking.
"Oh... I remember now. You're the prostitute who tried to trap Charles. You think he'd fall for someone like you? And now you've brought this... this bastard?"
"I'm not a bastard, ma'am," I said softly, my voice trembling. Inside, I was breaking. A fire of pain and shame rising in my chest.
Regina smirked. "What did I expect from a whore's daughter? You must be another mistake–just like your mother."
Her daughter chimed in with venom. "You're not bad-looking. Probably make more money than your mother if you tried. Who knows how many men you've slept with already?"
"You can't speak to my daughter like that!" my mother shouted.
"She has every right!" Regina barked. "And if you ever come here again with this bastard, I'll make sure you lose her!"
The argument was still raging when Charles Whittemore himself drove in.
"There he is. My king," Regina said, clinging to his arm.
Charles looked at us with disgust. "You again? What the hell are you doing here?"
"You may hate me," my mom said, standing tall, "but your daughter is here. This is Lily. She deserves to know you."
He turned to me. No softness in his gaze. No curiosity. Nothing.
"I don't have a daughter. My only daughter is Victoria." He touched his other daughter's hand gently. "This girl? She's a mistake. A lowlife. I want nothing to do with either of you."
Then he turned away. "Lovely wife. Beautiful daughter. I'm sorry you had to deal with this trash."
He walked inside. Not a word to me. Not a glance.
That hurt more than any insult.
But it didn't end there. The guards attacked us.
They beat us.
They threw us out.
My mom got the worst of it–shielding me from their fists, taking the blows meant for me. Her body was bruised and battered by the time we reached the nearby hospital.
Tears stung my eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, barely able to talk. "I should have listened to you... we shouldn't have gone..."
"It's okay, Mom," I said, fighting my tears. "You need to rest. I need to prepare. Tomorrow is the Kingsley Empire interview."
---
Morning came too fast.
I dressed in a fitted office gown, pulled my hair into a neat bun, and wore my only pair of decent heels. I applied light makeup-just enough to enhance my features. I looked professional, elegant, and slightly more confident than I felt.
I was nervous. But maybe that was normal. It was my first job interview.
It took me two hours to reach Kingsley Empire. The place was a palace in its own right- massive and packed with people.
There were over 40 of us there. All hoping for a chance.
"Wow. We're so many," I muttered.
"Of course," a voice beside me replied. "Just pray you get selected."
I turned and saw a girl in a long gown, round-faced, confident.
"I'm Emmay," she said. "Nice to meet you."
"I'm Lily. Nice to meet you too."
Emmay smirked. "Let's save the pleasantries for when we actually get the job."
I laughed. She was blunt, but I liked her.
After we filled out forms and answered the interview questions, I was done in about two hours. The results would be sent to our emails in three days.
While we waited, I learned more about the Kingsley Empire. It wasn't just a
company–it was a dynasty. A kingdom. Workers were divided into departments: kitchen, service, guest management, and those directly assigned to the royal family.
I left even though I wanted to keep talking to Emmay. She was cheerful, outspoken, and funny. For the short time I knew her, I liked her already. Maybe she'd become my first real friend.
––
Back at the hospital, I was met by a nurse with a stern look.
"Hi Lily. You've been staying here for almost a month now. That's not allowed. I'll give you till this weekend. After that, you'll have to leave or start paying for space."
Another bomb dropped.
No home. No money. Nowhere to go.
All I had was hope – and Kingsley Empire.
The interviewer's face didn't show much during my session. People say you can tell if you'll get hired by how they react to you... and honestly, I wasn't sure. Some seemed uninterested. Others were polite but cold.
But I believe in myself.
I have to.
If I get this job, it comes with free food, free clothing (uniform), and free accommodation.
It's my only shot.
But will someone like me -- an undergraduate, from a broken background -- be accepted into such a prestigious empire?
Only time, and maybe God, will tell.