Alex's POV:

As I followed Ryan out of his audi, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. He led me to the high-speed elevator, and we soared to the 20th floor in silence. The doors opened onto a spacious foyer, and I felt my jaw drop in awe.

"Welcome to my apartment," Ryan said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

As I crossed the threshold, I felt like I'd entered a different realm. The warm, soft light that filled the apartment was like a gentle embrace, enveloping me in a sense of luxury and refinement that was a far cry from the cozy, cluttered confines of my own small one-bedroom home. My eyes widened as I took in the stunning space, my gaze darting from one exquisite detail to the next.

With a subtle gesture, Ryan invited me to follow him, and I trailed behind, my eyes devouring the sleek, modern landscape of his apartment.

The living room unfolded before me like a work of art, its crowning glory a stunning, floor-to-ceiling fireplace that soared upwards, its clean lines and minimalist design evoking a sense of airy grandeur.

The overall effect was one of understated luxury, as if every element had been carefully chosen to create a sense of refined sophistication.

As I followed Ryan through the apartment, he led me to the kitchen, its sleek surfaces and modern appliances gleaming in the soft light. He gestured for me to enter, and I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the bright colors and stainless steel accents.

"Here, you'll be cooking meals," Ryan said, his voice low and smooth as he swept his arm across the kitchen, indicating the various stations. "As you can see, there are top-of-the-line appliances, and plenty of counter space to work with."

I nodded, taking in the impressive array of cookware and utensils.

"Do you need some water?" Ryan asked, his blue-grey eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

I nodded, feeling a sudden dryness in my throat. "Yes, please. Sir." I added the title out of habit, still getting used to the idea of working here for days to come.

Ryan opened the refrigerator door, revealing a chilled interior stocked with an array of drinks and fruits. He pulled out a bottle of chilled water and handed it to me, his fingers brushing against mine in the process.

"Thanks," I said, taking a refreshing sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe my parched throat.

As I drank, I noticed Ryan's gaze lingering on me, his expression inscrutable. His face was relaxed, lips parted slightly, jaw soft, but his gaze held a depth, a quiet intensity that made my skin prickle with awareness. It was as if he was seeing right through to my very soul.

I felt a shiver run down my spine, but pushed it aside, telling myself it was just my imagination.

Ryan's gaze lingered on me for a moment before he looked away, his voice breaking the silence. "Are you hungry?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Sharing my needs or feelings didn't come easily to me. My silence stretched out, and Ryan filled it again.

"You must be hungry, it's already past lunchtime," he said, glancing at his watch. His eyes roamed the kitchen before settling back on me. "Can you cook something for us? I'm hungry too."

I was caught off guard by the sudden request. Just an hour ago, I had signed the contract, and now, barely inside his apartment, Ryan was asking me to cook for him. I had expected a gradual transition into my new role, not a dive into the heart of my duties so soon. The abruptness of it all left me feeling like I was being thrust into the deep end without a chance to acclimate.

I nodded, despite my reservations. "Yes, but...I'm not familiar with your kitchen. Could you please show me where everything is?" I hesitated, unsure how to articulate my uncertainty.

Ryan gestured helpfully. "Use the vegetables from the refrigerator, and the salt and spices are over there." He pointed to a rack on the counter. "Just make something simple, whatever you like."

As I scanned the kitchen, I felt a surge of pressure. This was my first meal for Ryan, and I wanted to impress. But what did he like? I opened my mouth to ask, but Ryan had already turned away, settling onto the kitchen island with his phone in hand. His focus was intense, and my words got stuck in my throat.

I turned back to the refrigerator, taking a deep breath as I surveyed the vegetables. I would have to rely on my own instincts. I began to pull out ingredients, my mind racing with possibilities. What if he didn't like what I made? What if it wasn't good enough?

I pushed the doubts aside and focused on the task at hand. As I chopped the vegetables, the repetitive motion helped calm my nerves. I decided on a simple stir-fry, hoping the familiar dish would turn out well. With the ingredients prepared, I heated the pan and added the vegetables, the sizzling sounds filling the kitchen.

As I cooked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Ryan was still seated at the kitchen island, his presence looming in the background. I tried to ignore him, but my awareness of his gaze grew stronger with each passing minute.

Finally, I glanced over, and our eyes met. Ryan's gaze was intense, his eyes fixed on me with an unnerving scrutiny. I felt a jolt of discomfort, my heart racing as I quickly looked away.

I tried to focus on the stir-fry, but I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. I added a dash of salt and pepper, my hands moving with a stiffness that betrayed my growing unease. I sense his gaze on me, tracing the movements of my hands as I stirred the pan. What was he thinking? Was he expecting something specific from me? The questions swirled in my mind, making my movements feel even more awkward.

The kitchen was warm and cozy, filled with the aroma of sautéing vegetables and the soft hum of the refrigerator in the background. But I felt a sense of tension, a sense of being on display.

I glanced up again, catching Ryan's eye. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and I felt a flutter in my chest.

What was wrong with me? I was here to work, not to get caught up in some kind of...whatever this was. I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling, but I couldn't shake the sense that Ryan was seeing right through me.

As I finished cooking, Ryan stood up and walked over to the sleek, induction cooktop, his movements fluid and graceful. "Smells great," he said, peering into the pan. "What is it?"

"Just a simple stir-fry," I replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach.

Ryan nodded, his eyes locked on mine. "Sounds good, I'm starving. Let's eat." He gestured to the fine bone china plates on the kitchen island, with its polished granite surface.

"Okay," I nodded, my hands moving with a quiet efficiency as I retrieved two plates. I took out two plates and began serving us both, the soft clinking of the silverware on the plates filling the air.

As I set his plate before him, I hesitated, my eyes darting to the empty stool beside him at the kitchen island.

Ryan's eyes met mine, his smile warm and inviting. "What are you waiting for? Come and sit, let's eat," he said, his low tone drawing me in. It was as if he had a sixth sense for my hesitations, always knowing when to nudge me forward.

"Yeah..." I said, sliding onto the stool beside him.

As we ate, the silence between us was comfortable, punctuated only by the clinking of utensils on plates. But I couldn't shake the feeling that Ryan was studying me, trying to figure me out.

As we finished our meal, Ryan pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving mine. With his elbows resting on the arms of the chair, he said, "So, Alex," his voice low and contemplative. "Now that we've eaten, I was thinking... would you like to explore the apartment some more, or maybe take a break and rest for a bit? You must be exhausted."

As I opened my mouth to respond, Ryan's gentle yet firm tone cut through the silence, reminiscent of a soothing summer breeze. He leaned forward, his clasped hands conveying quiet determination.

"Actually, I have some work to attend to, so I'll be upstairs for the next hour or two." His eyes seemed to bore into mine, as if ensuring I understood.

With a subtle nod, he gestured toward the majestic staircase curving up to the left, its grandeur a testament to the apartment's luxury. "You're free to rest, explore, or unwind as you please." His voice hung in the air, heavy with promise.

However, his tone shifted, taking on a hint of warning. "One exception: my office." His eyes darted to a door on the right, its sleek surface blending seamlessly into the surrounding elegance. Ryan's gaze snapped back to mine, his expression unyielding.

"That room is off-limits. I mean it." His voice dropped to a low, even tone, leaving no room for debate. "Don't enter, don't touch the door. Understand?"

As soon as I nodded and said, "yes, I understand," he strode towards the stairs with purposeful strides, each step echoing through the silence. I watched, transfixed, as he ascended, his figure disappearing from view like a ghost. The soft click of a door closing and opening signaled his departure, leaving me alone in the vast, unfamiliar space.

With Ryan gone, I felt a sense of uncertainty wash over me like a wave. Relaxing here, in this new and overwhelming environment, seemed impossible. I reminded myself, as if to solidify the reality, "I'm a housekeeper for Ryan Valtor now." The words felt surreal, like a dream I might soon wake up from. Everything had unfolded with dizzying speed – the morning's unexpected call from Helping Hands, the interview, and the job offer. It all felt like a whirlwind, leaving me breathless and disoriented.

I sighed, the sound escaping my lips like a whispered secret, as I walked over to the sofa and sank into its plush, velvety depths. The softness enveloped me, a comforting embrace that soothed my frazzled nerves. The sofa's luxurious fabric, a rich charcoal gray, felt sumptuous against my skin, like a gentle caress. Its sleek, low-profile design and subtle tufting spoke of high-end craftsmanship, a testament to Ryan's refined taste. As I settled in, the cushions cradled me, providing a sense of security and tranquility, a respite from the overwhelming sensations that had been building up inside me.

Two hours ticked by, and I remained frozen on the sofa, my mind a jumble of thoughts. But there was another reason for my immobility - a pressing need to use the washroom. Yet, I had no idea where it was located, and I was too hesitant to venture into the unknown depths of Ryan's apartment without him. So, I sat there, my legs crossed and my body tense, trying to will away the growing discomfort.

Just as I thought my bladder would burst, the silence was shattered by the sound of a door opening and closing. Footsteps echoed from the staircase, growing louder with each step, and my heart skipped a beat. I turned my head, my eyes drifting towards the stairs.

Ryan appeared, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. He smiled, a hint of curiosity in his expression. "Hey, how was your break?" he asked, walking towards me.

I shrugged, feeling a bit sheepish. "It was fine, I guess. I didn't do much."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "What did you do, exactly?"
I hesitated, unsure how to respond. "Nothing, I was just sitting here."

Ryan's gaze lingered on me, as if trying to read between the lines. "You didn't, uh, get up to use the washroom or anything?"

My face grew hot as I realized he had noticed my discomfort. "N-no, I was just... waiting for you."

Ryan chuckled. "Well, I'm back now. The washroom is just over there," he said, nodding towards a door nearby.

I nodded, feeling embarrassed. "Thanks, I'll... uh... go now."

As I walked towards the washroom, Ryan called out, "Hey, Alex?"

I turned to him, hoping he wouldn't ask anything else embarrassing. "Yeah?"

Ryan's grin grew wider, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Try not to hold it in next time, okay?"

I nodded curtly, my face still ablaze with embarrassment. "Okay," I muttered, my voice barely audible.

I couldn't believe Ryan had noticed my discomfort and teased me about it. I just wanted to escape the awkwardness and find some relief. I made my way to the washroom, my eyes fixed on the door as I walked with an awkward stiffness, my feet shuffling awkwardly. I felt like I was waddling, and I couldn't help but wonder if Ryan was watching me with amusement.

I reached the door and grasped the handle like a lifeline, slipping inside with a sigh of relief. Finally, I could escape the awkwardness and find some solace in the privacy of the washroom. I leaned against the door, letting out a deep breath as I tried to shake off the embarrassment.