Cherise felt a warm flush creep into her cheeks as she nced at the scattered clothes, memories of


    the previous night flooding her mind like a rushing tide.


    Quietly, she retreated to the bathroom for a shower, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon


    her. She couldn’t help but me Mr. Whitlock for the predicament they found themselves in.


    Why had he insisted on them listening to that recorder together?


    In the end…


    Ultimately, she found herself gravitating towards Damien of her own volition.


    Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this entire debacle was not entirely her fault–Mr. Whitlock’s


    meddling had set this chain of events into motion.


    After her shower, Cherise’s phone rang, signaling an iing call from Mr. Whitlock.


    “Mrs. Lenoir,” inquired Mr. Whitlock with a tone that held a tinge of apprehension, “Have you and Mr.


    Lenoir had the chance to peruse the recording I provided together, as I suggested?”


    With a sardonic curve gracing her lips, Cherise responded, “Indeed, we have, Mr. Whitlock.”


    “Mr. Whitlock,” Cherise continued, her voice tinged with a knowing edge, “It appears your spouse and


    Mr. Samson share a rather peculiar rapport; would you not agree?”


    Taken aback by the revtion, Mr. Whitlock stammered, “How did youe to learn of my wife’s


    association with Samson…”


    Before he could finish, Cherise interjected sharply, “The recording you submitted, was it not their voices


    that resonated within its confines? I would advise against such jests in the future, sir!”


    With that admonition, Cherise swiftly terminated the conversation, leaving Mr. Whitlock in a state of


    bewildered contemtion.


    Seated in his office, Mr. Whitlock grappled with the unsettling revtion.


    Did the audio recording Cherise received feature his wife and Samson?


    Then, the one he had entrusted to Samson only the day prior…


    In a flurry of realization, he hastily dialed a familiar number. “Hello, Samson…”


    “Good day, sir.”


    But instead of Samson’s voice, a woman’s somber tones echoed through the receiver,den with grief.


    “I am his spouse. Sammy was involved in a vehicr ident this morning he didn’t survive…


    Mr. Whitlock’s world crumbled around him as he slumped in his chair, the weight of his actions crashing


    down upon him.


    It was the end in more ways than one.


    After ending the call, Cherise busied herself by gathering the scattered clothes and starting the


    washing machine before making her way downstairs.


    Frances greeted her with a warm smile.


    “Madam, Sir mentioned that you were tiredst night, so I prepared a nutritious breakfast for you,”


    Frances chirped. “What would you like to have?”


    Cherise furrowed her brows, ncing at the array of breakfast options spread out on the table behind


    Frances–Italian, Western, meat, vegetarian… it was a veritable feast.


    She was taken aback by the extravagance and struggled to find her words.


    “Is all of this for me?” she finally managed to ask, a hint of disbelief coloring her tone.


    Wasn’t this a tad extravagant?


    “Yes,” Frances replied, her smile unwavering. “If you want anything else, just let me know. As long as


    I’m capable, I’ll make it for you!”


    Cherise fell silent, feeling overwhelmed by the abundance of food before her.


    With such an abundance of foodid before her, what more could she conceivably desire?


    She took a deep breath, partaking in a modest portion before urging Frances and the other servants to


    help themselves. “Please, don’t let it go to waste,” she insisted.


    Frances nodded appreciatively. “As long as you’re satisfied, madam,” she replied. “We, the servants,


    won’t partake in these.”


    Cherise frowned, puzzled by their reluctance. “Why not?” she inquired.


    “Because when you first arrived at the Lenoir Residence, a servant was dismissed for eating your food


    without permission,” Frances exined solemnly.


    Cherise was rendered speechless by the revtion.


    “Was there such a thing?” she murmured in disbelief.


    “Yes,” Frances confirmed, her expression tinged with reminiscence.All text ? N?velD(r)a''ma.Org.


    “I remember that incident clearly. But rx, June got the boot because she disrespected and belittled


    you, and Mr. Lenoir had your back,” Frances reassured.


    Cherise was moved by Frances’s words.


    She nervously bit her lip before asking, “Has Damien done anything else noteworthy for me?”