All Chapters of THE MAID OF MADRID: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

My mother always told me that I was a ghost. She said that in a house like the Alarcón mansion, the best thing a girl like me could be was invisible."Don't let the Patron see you," she would whisper while she tied my hair back in the tiny room we shared. "Don't let the boys see you. Just clean the dust and stay out of the light."But I was six years old, and I did not want to be a ghost. I wanted to be real. And there was only one person in that whole cold, stone castle who made me feel like I actually existed.That was Mateo.Mateo was ten. He was the oldest son, the golden boy. He was everything I was not. He was rich. He was the sun, and I was just a shadow. But every afternoon, when my mother was busy scrubbing the master bathtub, I would sneak out to the back of the garden.I would hide behind the red rose bushes. The thorns would scratch my arms, but I did not care. I would wait on the old mossy bench, my heart beating fast, listening for the sound of his footsteps."Valeria?"

The peace of our small room did not last long. I was still sitting on my cot, my heart still racing from the garden, when the door exploded open. It hit the wall with a sound like a gunshot.Three men in black suits stormed inside. These were the Patron’s personal bodyguards. They were big, they smelled like old leather, and their faces were made of stone. My mother, Rosa, jumped up from the small table where she was folding laundry. Her face went white."What is this? What is happening?" my mother cried out."Where is it, Rosa?" the biggest guard shouted. He did not look at her like a person. "The Patron said your brat stole a precious possession from his study. A blue glass bird. He said she has been sneaking around his sons. Give it back now!""I did not steal anything! ¡Lo juro! I swear!" my mother screamed.The guard did not listen. He reached out and shoved my mother. He pushed her so hard that she hit the floor with a heavy thud."¡Mamá!" I screamed, but another guard pointed a

The sun had not even fully climbed over the stone walls of the Alarcón mansion when my mother’s voice ripped through my sleep. I sat up on my thin cot, my muscles aching from the long hours at the club. I reached over and touched the old, dusty coat hanging on the nail. Inside the lining, my money was safe. I could feel the thick stack of bills. It was a lot, but I needed more. I needed enough to change my life forever."Get up, Valeria! The laundry does not wash itself!" my mother shouted, banging a metal pot against the doorframe.I stood up and pulled on my faded maid’s uniform. My mind was already making a plan. "Mamá," I said, looking her in the eye. "There is a free study class in the village for two days. They are teaching about the law. I need to go. It will help me get that degree in the US."My mother stopped scrubbing the table. She looked at me like I was crazy. "We are broke, Valeria. You are a maid. Why do you keep dreaming?""Please, Mamá. Just two days. I will work twi

The ice in Mateo’s glass had completely melted by the time he picked up his phone. The heavy silence of the Alarcón library was pressing against his chest like a lead weight. His father’s talk about corporate inheritance and family duty was a cage, and Mateo had never been a man who liked bars.He dialed a familiar number. "Julian," Mateo said, his voice dropping into a low, rough register. "Get Santi and Leo. I am suffocating in this house. Let's go out.""¡Coño, finally!" Julian laughed through the speaker. "The king wants to play. Where are we going? The usual spots downtown?""No," Mateo said, adjusting the collar of his shirt. "Nowhere where my father’s partners can see me. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere quiet.""I know just the place," Julian said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Club Máscara. It’s in the old sector, near the docks. No paparazzi, no corporate bosses. Just pure dark.""Don't bring the SUVs," Mateo ordered. "We go low profile. I am not driving the Mercedes."An hou

The old blue bus rattled violently as it hit the pothole outside the village gate. Every bump sent a jolt straight to my ribs, but I barely felt it. My hand was clamped tight over the zipper of my bag, where five thousand euros were stuffed deep into the lining. Five thousand. I was so close. The image of the man in the charcoal suit kept flashing behind my eyes, the smell of his expensive tobacco lingering on my skin despite the heavy layer of sweat from the bus ride. I shook my head, trying to erase the memory of his heavy hands on my waist. He was gone. He was just a ghost who paid for a night, and I was finally back to reality.I snuck through the back gate of the Alarcón mansion, slipping past the towering stone pillars. The air here was tense. Servants were scurrying across the courtyard like ants in a panic.The moment I stepped into the laundry room, my mother lunged at me. She didn't ask how my study class went. She didn't even look at my tired face. She grabbed my arm, her na