The Sting

Jasmine knew the job would be awkward for two reasons: the tension between her and Elijah and meeting his soon-to-be bride. With her psychology background, she quickly picked up on subtle cues between the couple, sensing that things weren’t as they appeared. However, she reminded herself that it wasn’t her place to get involved.

Two weeks had passed since Elijah’s slip-up when he confessed that he wanted her. She tried to brush it off, but it was hard to ignore when a man like him expressed such desire. Jasmine had never felt desired, so she was new to navigating these feelings.

Lately, she couldn’t help but notice that the not-so-happy couple always left at the same time and returned on the same day. The maid staff would slip up and tell Jasmine the rumors of secret lives and mistresses. It honestly sounded like they were just trying to spice up their boring job of tending to an empty home.

The moment Clara crossed the grand marble foyer of the mansion, everything changed. It wasn’t just the stark contrast between Clara’s polished demeanor and Jasmine’s worn-out clothing. It wasn’t even the way Clara’s eyes flicked over Jasmine with barely concealed disdain, as though she had walked in on a stranger in her home. It was the way the air seemed to grow colder, heavier, as if the very space had become hostile.

Jasmine was scrubbing the baseboards in the hallway, trying to finish up the last few details before she could leave for the day. She always tried to be gone by the time Clara typically arrived, but today she had come home early.

She had already finished cleaning the enormous chandelier that hung above the staircase and was moving quickly to get everything done on her list. The last thing she wanted was to be seen. The staff made themselves invisible as the sound of Prada clicking on the floor echoed it’s way to the sunroom.

Jasmine tried to keep her attention on the task at hand by keeping her head down. Staying focused. This was just another cleaning job, another paycheck. But as Clara approached, Jasmine could feel her presence like a weight pressing down on her shoulders.

Clara stopped right in front of her. Tapping her black stiletto impatiently.

"You're still here?", Clara’s voice was clipped and sharp. Sounding as if she couldn't understand why someone as… unimportant as Jasmine was still in her pristine home. "I thought you’d be finished by now."

There was an edge to her tone, something condescending, like she expected Jasmine to have been quicker, more efficient, more… invisible.

Jasmine’s fingers tightened around the cleaning cloth, and she forced herself to look up.

"I’m just finishing up, Mrs. Clara.", she said. Trying to keep her voice steady, "I’ll be done in just a few minutes."

Clara’s gaze flickered dismissively over her. She took in the sight of Jasmine’s tired expression, the slightly wrinkled hoodie, the hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Jasmine felt as though she were being sized up, judged by someone who was used to power and control.

"You can call me Mrs. Daniels, make sure you're out of here soon.", Clara said. Her voice colder now, "Dinner is starting soon, and I don’t want any… distractions."

The word distractions hung in the air like a veiled insult, and Jasmine’s heart sank. She hadn’t even done anything wrong, but already she was being dismissed as if she were nothing more than an unwelcomed outsider.

Jasmine nodded quickly, not trusting herself to respond politely. She was used to people like Clara. People who looked down on her, who considered her little more than a cog in their machine of wealth and status. People who believed that money and appearance were the only things that mattered.

But as she stood up to collect her supplies, a familiar voice broke through the tension.

"Clara, we need to talk. I am going to have to miss tonight’s dinner.", Elijah's voice came from behind, firm and casual, but there was a trace of something else in it. Something Jasmine couldn’t quite place.

Clara turned toward him with an exaggerated smile, the kind that looked like it had been rehearsed in front of a mirror.

“Everything’s perfect, darling. You can’t miss this dinner. I have been slaving over the preparations for weeks.”, she said.

It was a lie. She had been gone for two weeks. The staff have been making the preparations and Jasmine had been tasked with the cleaning.

Her tone syrupy sweet, though the warmth didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’re just about to wrap things up here, and then we’ll go upstairs and get ready. This…”, she looked at Jasmine with pity, “This maid is just leaving.”

Jasmine tried to slip past them unnoticed. She was desperate to escape the tension that was quickly suffocating her, but as she passed by Elijah… something strange happened.

For a brief, fleeting moment, their eyes met. It felt like a jolt of heat shot through her chest.

It was the same electricity she had felt earlier, the same undeniable chemistry that had almost pulled her in against her will. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her pulse quicken just for a second. And yet, in that instant, it was as though the world had narrowed to the two of them. Alone in the hallway, both of them caught in the quiet current of something unspoken.

But then, before Jasmine could even register what was happening, Clara’s voice broke the moment, cold and sharp. “Girl, leave. Now.”

Jasmine froze. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Clara’s gaze had narrowed, her lips curling into a sneer as her eyes dashed between Elijah and Jasmine.

“Elijah, what do you think you are doing?” Her voice was a low hiss.

She barely contained herself, as she crossed the space between them. Stepping toward Elijah with a look of disbelief on her face. “Why the hell are you staring at the help like that? Would you like to clean the toilet with her?”

Jasmine’s body went stiff. She had never seen someone so angry, so suddenly, so completely engulfed in rage. Clara was no longer the poised woman Jasmine had seen earlier. She was a tornado, a force of fury that tore through the air taking everything with it.

Elijah’s face turned barren of emotion, his mouth pierced tightly and his glare at Clara could kill. The moment had been so brief, so innocent. Hell, they hadn’t even touched, but the way Clara was reacting made it seem as though Jasmine had just committed some unforgivable sin.

“This is my home. I can look at whoever I want. If I wanted your opinion, I would have asked. Now, like I said earlier. I will not be able to make…” Elijah started, but Clara interrupted him.

Her voice rising, “Is that so? Well, then look at me like that for once. We are soon to be married after all. You can’t just sleep with the help I hire. They are not escorts."

His eyes sharp as he stared at her and with a low, deep growl, "I look at you the way you deserve. And I don’t ever sleep with my employees, but I didn’t hire her… did I?"

Clara’s eyes were filled with venom now. The warmth she had shown earlier had evaporated, replaced with disgust. And Jasmine, standing there in the background, could do nothing but listen and feel her face burn with humiliation.

Jasmine’s heart raced in her chest, but her feet were glued to the floor. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. She knew there was something off about the relationship, but she would not have believed this… if she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

She was shocked that she was caught in the middle of a domestic storm that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the tangled mess of emotions between Elijah and Clara.

Clara choked back her rage for a brief moment to keep Jasmine from learning too much, "We can discuss this at a later time. It is time to get ready for dinner. My parents will be arriving shortly."

“I will not be attending. That is final.”, Elijah spoke again.

Clara was barley containing the demon inside of her now. He had humiliated her in front of someone she considered beneath her. And Jasmine was just waiting for them to move, so that she could leave.

“Just. Get. Out.”, Clara’s voice was a low, controlled command now. Each word was deliberate. Each syllable dripping with disdain, “I want you to leave. Now!”

Jasmine flinched as Clara’s words hit her like a slap.

“I… I’m sorry.”, Jasmine stammered, “I am not sleeping with anyone.”

She didn’t even look at Jasmine as she turned to face Elijah again.

Jasmine’s chest tightened. Every fiber of her being wanted to turn and run. To escape the ridicule, the coldness, the sheer weight of the judgment. But instead, she stood there, too stunned to move.

Elijah looked at her. His face a mask of conflict, but his lips remained tight. He didn’t step forward to intervene. He didn’t try to stop Clara or apologize. His silence burned hotter than anything he could have said.

Jasmine blinked back the tears that suddenly stung at her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to let Clara see how much her words had affected her. But everything felt wrong. It was all too much.

“I said get out! You're fired.”, Clara’s words cut her off, harsh and final.

In the end, the words that lingered in her mind were not Clara’s insults but the realization that this was the world where she was not wanted, not needed, and not even seen as worthy of a second glance. She was simply a servant, a means to an end. A ghost drifting through a house made of glass and gold.

Without a word, Jasmine turned and walked toward the door. Each step felt heavier than the last, each one a reminder of how out of place she truly was.

The door shut behind her with a soft click, and suddenly, the world outside seemed like a breath of fresh air. Familiar, unpretentious, and for once… safe. But as Jasmine stood on the sidewalk, the memory of the encounter sank deeper into her chest.

She had been humiliated, and more than that… She had been reminded, brutally reminded of the stark divide between her world and theirs. She wasn’t just a cleaner. She wasn’t just a girl trying to make ends meet.

She wasn’t even someone who, no matter how hard she tried, would ever be able to be with a man like Elijah. He would never truly want her. And that truth stung more than anything Clara had said.