The morning sun reflected softly off the villa’s imposing facade, and a light breeze carried the scent of jasmine blossoms wafting from the perfectly manicured garden. Carlos, the wealthy businessman, stood in front of his house, watching with a mixture of pride and affection the young maid about to step out of the car. Esther, twenty-two years old, was touchingly shy, her eyes wide and shining with respect for her employer, whom she admired for his kindness and benevolence. Every day, she performed her duties with meticulous care, ensuring that every corner of the house was spotless, every meal prepared with care. But today was not like any other day.

“Ready, Esther?” Carlos asked in a soft but warm voice.

Esther blinked, half-incredulous.

“Shopping for me, sir?”

Carlos nodded, a genuine smile lighting up his face.

“Yes. You’ve worked so hard… Everything is always in order in this house. And today… it’s your birthday.”

Esther’s face lit up with wonder and gratitude.

“Thank you, sir… God bless you,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion.

She rushed inside to grab her bag, but from the balcony, Dara, Carlos’s wife, had watched everything. Anger was etched on her face like a storm about to break. Without wasting a second, she stormed down the stairs, her dress billowing behind her like a cape, her fiery gaze fixed on Esther.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she shouted.

Esther stopped by the car door, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Ma’am… I’m just getting started…”

Before she could finish her sentence, Dara grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her away from the car.

“Get out of here, you shameless girl!” Dara yelled. “My husband is your boss, not your boyfriend!”

Carlos frowned, trying to remain calm.

“Dara, stop it. You’re humiliating him,” he said in a firm but measured voice.

But Dara wasn’t listening.

“You think I don’t know your plans? You’re just waiting for me to make a mistake so you can replace me in this house!”

Esther lowered her head sharply, terrified.

“No, ma’am… never,” she whispered, but Dara cut her off abruptly.

“Shut up!”

Esther clutched her bag and stepped back, tears welling in her eyes. Carlos sighed deeply, his heart heavy with frustration and sadness, and turned to his wife.

“Dara… did we really have to do that? Do you even know what day it is?”

“I don’t care about the day,” Dara replied bitterly. “She’s a maid, Carlos.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“A maid? And you want to drive her around like a queen? It’s her birthday, Dara!” he responded firmly. “She works harder than anyone else in this house. Is it a crime to show kindness?”

“Kindness?” Dara sneered. “What boss takes his maid shopping?”

Carlos shook his head and walked away, his face etched with the injustice he had just witnessed. A few moments later, he knocked softly on Esther’s door.

“Come in, sir,” she murmured hesitantly, her eyes red with tears.

Carlos came in and, in a soft voice, said:

“I’m sorry about what just happened. You don’t deserve to be treated like this.”

Esther lowered her eyes, intimidated.

“It’s nothing, sir,” she replied weakly.

He then approached and handed her a wad of bills.

“Fifty thousand Nas. Buy yourself some clothes. Happy birthday.”

Esther’s eyes widened, her hands trembling.

“Sir… that’s too much…”

“Take it and don’t let what happened outside ruin your day,” Carlos said, giving her a slight smile, then left for work.

Esther remained sitting on her bed, staring at the money in her hands.

“Fifty thousand… My God… thank you…” she murmured, overwhelmed.

But at that moment, Dara passed by her half-open door. Curiosity got the better of her, and she burst in, catching Esther counting the bills.

“So that’s what I suspected!” Dara cried.

Esther sat bolt upright, panicked.

“Ma’am, no… please…”

Dara flung the bills from her hands, scattering them on the floor.

“So you took my husband’s money? You’re counting fifty thousand like you’re some kind of grande dame!”

“Ma’am, please… it’s my birthday present…” Esther begged, bending down to pick up the money.

“Birthday present? Don’t make me laugh!” Dara retorted furiously. “You won’t be using my husband’s money to make yourself beautiful while I’m here!”

She stormed out, leaving Esther trembling and silently weeping.

That evening, Carlos returned home for dinner. The table was lavishly set, but Esther stood discreetly to the side.

— Ast

“Did you buy any new clothes today?” Carlos asked casually, setting down his ladle.

Esther froze, her hand trembling.

“No, sir…”

“Why not?” Carlos insisted, frowning.

“I… I don’t have the money anymore, sir…” she stammered, glancing at Dara, who was calmly sipping her drink, her expression impassive.

“Madame took it,” Esther murmured in a low voice.

Carlos dropped his fork noisily onto the plate, stunned. He slowly turned his head toward Dara.

“Dara!… Is it true? Did you take the money I gave her?”

Dara leaned forward, feigning innocence.

“Yes… so what?”

“It was a birthday present… Why humiliate her like this?” “So, what about Carlos?” his voice tinged with reproach.

“A good one?” Dara replied sarcastically. “Perhaps I should let you marry her, since you care so much about her happiness!”

Carlos slammed his fist on the table, making all the silverware jump.

“Don’t you ever speak like that again!” he thundered.

Esther murmured timidly,

“Sir, madam… may I clear the kitchen?”

Suddenly, a car horn blared at the front door. The doorman let in a sleek Toyota Corolla and a teenage girl in tight jeans stepped out, pulling a small suitcase behind her.

“Tommy!” Carlos exclaimed, rushing toward his daughter.

Tommy, fifteen years old and Carlos’s daughter from his first marriage, smiled and hugged him.

“Surprise! Mom said I could spend two weeks with you.”

Carlos’s face lit up, but when he met Dara’s gaze, he immediately perceived a forced smile, a mask of icy politeness.

“Welcome, Tommy,” Dara said in a neutral voice.

Later that evening, Tommy was unpacking her things in her room. She turned to Esther, whom Carlos had sent to help her.

“You’re the right one, aren’t you?” she asked softly.

“Yes, miss,” Esther replied, bowing slightly.

“Call me Tommy,” the young woman corrected, frowning.

Esther hesitated for a moment before nodding:

“Okay… I’ll call you Tommy.”

Tommy stared at her for a moment, his penetrating eyes betraying his perspicacity.

“I don’t like the way your stepmother talks to you… Did she really take the money Dad gave you?”

Esther’s eyes widened.

“Yes… but please don’t tell my father. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“It’s not fair… You work so hard in this house, and she treats you like you’re nothing…” Tommy said firmly.

The following days, the situation didn’t improve. While Carlos was at work, Dara entertained her friends, and Esther was forced to serve them. Mocking laughter and hurtful remarks flew.

“She’s even trembling!” one of the women exclaimed when she saw Esther.

Tommy, who was passing by in the hallway, watched the scene, his fists clenched in anger. She realized that this house wasn’t as perfect as she had thought.

That evening, she explained everything to her father.

“Dad… My mother-in-law and her friends humiliated Esther today… They made fun of her and ridiculed her…”

Carlos, his face hardening, listened attentively, then immediately went upstairs to find Esther.

“Is that true?” he asked softly.

“Sir… it’s nothing… I’m used to it…” Esther murmured.

“Don’t say that! No one should get used to being humiliated…”

Dara then appeared, arms crossed, glaring at her husband.

“You’re here defending her instead of putting her in her place,” she said with a contemptuous smile.

“Why did you humiliate her in front of your friends today?” Carlos asked, his voice trembling but commanding.

“I… I’m fed up with this marriage,” Dara snapped, heading towards the bedroom and beginning to stuff clothes into a travel bag.

“Stop this madness!” Carlos exclaimed. “We can talk!”

“Talk? You always want to talk about yourself, but when it concerns her, you defend her!” “I’m tired, Carlos, tired of having to compete with a maid in my own home,” Dara shouted, slamming her bag shut before storming out of the house.

Carlos stood frozen, torn between anger, despair, and incomprehension. Dara’s storm receded behind the door. Esther, trembling, silently gazed at the wreckage of what was supposed to be a peaceful home.

And in the silence of the villa, only the whisper of the breeze seemed to carry the promise of a better day…