Serving My Ex's Engagement Party - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

By the time my shift ended at Seraphine Manors, the clock had long since passed ten. The night air was thick with silence, broken only by the faint hum of distant traffic.
Under the flickering glow of the streetlamp, Randell stood waiting—just as he had hours before. The pavement beneath him was littered with crushed cigarette butts, a testament to his impatience.
I approached cautiously, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why are you still here?"
His jaw tightened. "Where's the father of your kid? Just lets you work this late?"
"He's gone."
Randell's fist collided with the trunk of a nearby tree, knuckles splitting open on impact. Blood dripped down his fingers, stark against his pale skin.
"Randell, what the hell?!" I gasped.
He cursed under his breath, his voice raw with fury. "You left me for a million dollars, and this is what you chose? Some deadbeat who leaves you slaving away as a maid? With me, you could've had everything—money, comfort, respect."
I didn't argue. There was no point.
"But I don't regret it," I murmured.
Even now, if I could go back, I'd take that check without hesitation.
Randell's expression darkened. "Eleanore. Fine. You're really something else."
That night, I was sure I'd never see him again.
But fate had other plans.
Life fell back into its usual rhythm—cooking dinner for Alistair, then heading to Seraphine Manors for my night shift.
Then, one evening, as I changed in the storage room, Randell walked in.
Our eyes met.
For a heartbeat, time froze.
Then he looked away, cold and dismissive, as if I were a stranger.
I served the snacks without a word, keeping my gaze lowered.
Randell's voice cut through the silence. "Mrs. Ruiz, I don't recognize this maid."
Gerda Ruiz glanced at me. "Oh, that's Eleanore. She comes in nights to prepare late-night snacks. One of our former maids recommended her."
"Really?" His tone was unreadable.
Lesly Ruiz descended the stairs, her laughter light. "Randell, were you just flirting with my maid?"
He smirked, pulling her close. "Jealous?" His finger tapped her nose playfully.
The sight of them—so intimate, so effortless—sent a sharp pang through me. I hurried back to the kitchen, desperate for distance.
Somehow, Randell's presence made the night pass faster.
When my shift ended, I gathered my things, eager to leave.
Then he found me again.
In the shadows of Lesly's garden, his hand clamped over my mouth, his body pressing me against a tree stump.
I froze.
"Randell?" Lesly's voice carried through the darkness. "Where'd you go?"
Panic surged through me. If she saw us like this—
Randell's teeth grazed my earlobe, his tongue tracing the curve of my neck.
Damn him.
He knew exactly where I was weakest.
A shudder wracked my body, my knees buckling. His arms tightened around me, holding me up as he chuckled darkly.
"Still remember me, Eleanore? After all this time, your body hasn't forgotten."
This was revenge. Pure and simple.
He hated me for choosing money over him, and now he wanted me to feel it.
My nails dug into my palms until the pain grounded me.
Only when Lesly's footsteps faded did I shove him away.
But Randell wasn't done.
His hand gripped my chin, forcing my lips to his. The kiss was brutal, punishing—his teeth catching my lip until I tasted blood.
The metallic tang only seemed to spur him on.
I fought, but it was useless.
Tears burned my cheeks, hot and furious.
Finally, feeling them, he pulled back.
My palm cracked across his face.
"Randell, you bastard."