Mia never imagined that a single shift at the hotel would change her life forever. At 24, she felt stuck in a cycle she couldn’t escape. By day she pushed a heavy cleaning cart down gleaming hallways lined with marble floors and chandeliers, scrubbing toilets and changing sheets for strangers who would never know her name. By night she worked as a waitress just to keep her rent paid. With no family support and no college degree, survival—not ambition—was her reality.
Room 805 became her daily dread. Behind that door was Daniel Williams, a wealthy guest who treated the luxury suite like his personal playground. Each morning he lounged on the bed with a cocktail in hand, smirking at her as if she were entertainment rather than staff.
“Well, well, my favorite maid,” he would say with his voice thick with fake charm.
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