The first time my fiancée called me useless, the entire room laughed. The second time, I decided to let them keep laughing.

The aftermath of the corporate war was swift and decisive. The news of Martin’s and Daniel's arrests dominated the financial headlines for a week, but Vance Enterprises rebounded faster than the market expected. With the corrupt board members purged and the stolen patents recovered, stock prices surged to an all-time high.

Back at the Vance estate, the silence was luxurious. The fake friends, the gold-diggers, and the corporate parasites had vanished. The grand mansion, once filled with cold, shallow laughter, finally felt like a home.

I spent the next few weeks restructuring my life. I fired three-quarters of the domestic staff who had shown disrespect or disloyalty during my "illness," leaving only those who had treated me with human dignity.

And at the top of that list was Clara.

One afternoon, as the golden sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my study, I called Clara inside. She walked in holding a tray with fresh tea, wearing her standard black-and-white maid's uniform.

"Set that down, please, Clara," I said, leaning back in my leather chair.

She placed the tray on the mahogany desk and stepped back respectfully. "Is there anything else you need, sir? I mean... Ethan."

I smiled at her small slip-up. "Yes, actually. I need you to hand in your uniform."

Clara froze, her cheeks instantly losing color. She looked down at her hands, her lower lip trembling slightly. "Are... are you firing me? Did I do something wrong?"

"Firing you?" I stood up from my desk and walked around to stand in front of her. "Clara, you were the only person in a room of fifty wealthy elite who showed me kindness when you thought I was broken and powerless. You defended me against my own fiancée. You kept my secret, risked your job, and stood by my side during a federal sting operation."

I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a thick leather folder, handing it to her.

She opened it with hesitant fingers. Inside were official employment documents and a stock grant contract.

"This is an executive position," Clara gasped, reading the text. "Director of Corporate Social Responsibility and Community Outreach at Vance Enterprises?"

"You have a degree in communications and sociology that you had to put on hold when your mother got sick, correct?" I asked gently.

Clara looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. "How... how did you know that?"

"I read your file," I replied with a soft smile. "You are far too smart, far too compassionate, and far too capable to be wiping down champagne spills for arrogant people. I want you at my company, Clara. I need people beside me who have a heart, not just a ambition."

Clara wiped away a stray tear, a breathtaking smile spreading across her face. "Ethan... I don't know what to say. This is... this is life-changing."

"You earned it," I said sincerely. "Now, take the rest of the week off. Go shopping, buy yourself a wardrobe fit for an executive, and get ready. Your new office is on the top floor, right next to mine."

She looked at the contract, then back at me, before doing something unexpected. She stepped forward and threw her arms around my neck in a warm, tight embrace. "Thank you," she whispered against my shoulder. "Thank you for seeing me."

I held her close, wrapping my arms around her waist, inhaling the sweet, natural scent of jasmine that seemed to follow her everywhere. Unlike Vanessa, whose hugs always felt calculated and stiff, holding Clara felt effortless, warm, and real.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed pink, and for a brief second, neither of us moved. The air between us charged with a sudden, unspoken electricity.