JEGGSVE
Working as a maid for three of the most terrifyingly competent women alive was never part of my life plan.
Yet somehow, here I am.
Every morning I wake up in a mansion bigger than my hometown, make breakfast for women who could buy my organs as a hobby, and spend the rest of the day trying not to accidentally die in increasingly creative ways.
There's Arlecchino, a private investigator who somehow knows things she absolutely should not know. Signora, a CEO who looks like she walked out of a magazine and personally invented being intimidating. And Kafka, a psychologist and author who can somehow make me question my entire existence with one mildly concerning sentence.
My job description says maid.
Reality says maid, cook, gardener, emotional support animal, kidnapping victim, occasional hostage, and professional disaster.
Most days are simple.
I clean things.
I cook things.
I try not to get stabbed.
Sometimes I even succeed.
The mansion itself is weird. The people are weird. My life is weird.
One week I'm arguing with a chihuahua.
The next week I'm helping solve a kidnapping.
At one point I got poisoned.
Twice, technically.
Long story.
The strangest part is that I should have left a long time ago.
But somewhere between the chaos, the arguments, the near-death experiences, and the people who somehow became important to me...
This place started feeling like home.
Which is probably a terrible sign.
Because lately, things have been getting stranger.
People know things they shouldn't.
Sometimes things don't make sense.
Sometimes it feels like something is missing.
Like I've forgotten something important.
Or someone.
But that's ridiculous.
Right?
Anyway.
My name is Y/N.
I'm twenty-three years old.
I'm a maid.
My life is a complete mess.
And everything is going perfectly fine.
Perfectly.
FΜΈiΜΆnΜ·eΜ΅.
SΜ·aΜ·vΜΈeΜ΄ Μ΅mΜΆeΜΆ.