I’M NOT LEAVING

The dining room was so large that it could probably fit my entire apartment inside it.

That thought crossed my mind as I arranged the last plate on the polished dining table.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting golden rays across the expensive furniture. Everything looked perfect.

The pancakes, the eggs, the toast, and the orange juice.

Everything.

Or at least, I hoped so.

After the humiliating encounter in Jason’s bedroom earlier that morning, I desperately needed something to go right.

Max sat beside me, his tail thumping against the floor.

“He better appreciate this,” I told him.

He barked once.

I smiled. “At least somebody does.”

The memory of Jason stepping out of the bathroom flashed through my mind.

Immediately, my cheeks warmed. Why was I even thinking about that?

I groaned and quickly pushed the thought away.

The last thing I needed was to start obsessing over the most irritating man I had ever met.

A few moments later, footsteps echoed through the hallway.

My shoulders stiffened. Of course it was Jason.

Trying to appear calm, I focused on arranging the cutlery.

The footsteps grew closer, and then he entered the dining room. My heart betrayed me by skipping a beat.

He looked annoyingly handsome.

Freshly dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark trousers, he looked like he had stepped straight out of a magazine cover.

It was not fair that some people had entirely too much luck.

Jason’s gaze landed on me and for a brief second, neither of us spoke. Then he looked away and pulled out a chair. Without a word, he sat down.

Silence settled between us.

It was an awkward silence, the kind that made every second feel painfully long.

I busied myself pouring the orange juice while Jason remained quiet.

His expression revealed nothing. No annoyance, no amusement, just nothing.

The silence somehow felt worse than an argument.

At least during an argument, I would know what he was thinking.

But now? He looked completely unreadable.

I placed a plate in front of him.

“Breakfast is served.” I said.

He didn’t respond, or said not even a thank you.

I bit back a sigh. He was what I would describe as a typical spoilt billionaire child.

Taking my own seat across from him, I reached for my fork. The room remained silent except for the occasional clink of cutlery.

Jason examined the food, then he picked up his fork.

I found myself watching him despite not wanting to. For some reason, I suddenly cared about his opinion.

Not because I liked him, absolutely not. But because I’d worked hard preparing the breakfast.

Even arrogant billionaires had taste buds so surely he could appreciate the effort.

Jason cut a piece of pancake, placed it into his mouth, and chewed slowly.

My stomach tightened.

I watched him swallow and then finally spoke.

“I’ve had better.” He snorted.

My smile disappeared just like that. Of course he would say that. Was I even expecting him to praise me?

I put down my fork. “What?”

Jason took another bite. “This isn’t very good.”

I stared, waiting for him to laugh or for him to reveal it was a joke but he didn’t. The man was completely serious.

“You don’t like it?” I asked.

He looked up. “Would I be criticizing it if I did?”

I was flabbergasted.

I knew I shouldn’t care, or even care to, but I did because despite everything, I had genuinely tried. My mom always praised my cooking at home, so his opinion shouldn’t really matter to me.

Jason took another sip of orange juice, then casually delivered another blow.

“If you’re going to take on jobs, you should probably learn the necessary skills first.”

I blinked. “What does that mean?”

His gaze met mine.

“It means that instead of taking jobs you’re clearly bad at, you should spend that time improving your culinary skills.”

The words landed like a slap. For several seconds, I couldn’t speak, so I simply stared at him trying to decide whether he was intentionally cruel or simply incapable of being nice.

The worst part? His expression remained completely calm as though insulting people over breakfast was perfectly normal, and like he hadn’t just spent the last few minutes tearing apart something I’d worked hard on.

My appetite vanished instantly as a lump formed in my throat.

I hated that feeling and how easily he could affect my mood. I hated how his words somehow carried weight.

“You know what?” I said quietly.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You don’t have to eat it.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to.”

That was the final straw. I pushed my chair back, the sound echoed across the dining room.

Jason watched me, looking completely unbothered which somehow made everything worse.

I stood. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

My voice dripped with sarcasm, then I turned and walked away.

If I stayed another second, I was going to say something I might regret, or worse even cry.

And there was absolutely no way I was crying in front of Jason Wilberg.

Not today, not ever.

As soon as I stepped into the hallway, I heard familiar paws behind me.

I glanced down and saw Max. The golden retriever hurried after me as his tail wagged anxiously.

At least somebody cared.

I forced a smile. “Hey, buddy.”

Behind us, Jason’s voice suddenly rang out. “Max! ”

The dog paused, his ears twitching. For a brief moment, I expected him to run back. After all, Jason was his owner.

Instead, Max looked toward the dining room, then looked back at me and continued walking.

My eyes widened as Jason called again.

“Max!!”

The dog ignored him completely, I nearly laughed.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only person annoyed with Jason this morning.

Max pressed himself against my leg, his tail wagging furiously.

The sight eased some of the hurt lingering inside my chest.

“Aren’t you supposed to listen to him?” I asked.

Max barked, and I chose to interpret that as a no. Together, we continued down the hallway.

Behind us, the dining room fell silent once more.

**********

A few minutes later, I found myself sitting in the garden because the fresh air helped a little.

It was not much, but enough.

The estate gardens were beautiful with flowers blooming in every direction.

A fountain sparkled nearby while birds sang from the trees.

Everything looked peaceful, but unfortunately, my thoughts were anything but peaceful.

I hugged my knees while Max settled beside me.

The events of breakfast replayed inside my head again and again and again.

Maybe I was being overly sensitive, or Jason genuinely hated the food.

People were allowed to dislike things and that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was the way he’d said it.

The complete lack of kindness, the casual cruelty, and the assumption that because I came from a different world, I somehow wasn’t good enough.

A sigh escaped my lips.

Why did his opinion matter so much? I barely knew him, In fact, I disliked him a lot. Yet somehow his words had managed to ruin my entire morning.

“That’s ridiculous,” I muttered.

Max looked at me and barked. I scratched behind his ears, and the dog immediately leaned closer.

His loyalty made me smile.

At least I had one friend in this giant mansion. The smile faded as another thought surfaced.

There were still thirteen days left. Thirteen long days.

I glanced toward the mansion.

The enormous building looked less welcoming than it had yesterday. It was now less magical and less exciting.

The reality was beginning to settle in.

This wasn’t going to be a dream job, not with Jason around.

The next two weeks were going to test every ounce of my patience and judging by breakfast, Jason seemed determined to make them as difficult as possible.

Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t planning on backing down either.

If he thought a few cruel comments would send me running home, he was about to be disappointed because his parents employed me and not him.

No matter how arrogant Jason Wilberg was…I needed this job and I wasn’t leaving just because of him or anyone.