Eurydice Santiago had one job.
One simple job: Serve drinks. Stay out of trouble. Do not make a scene.
And yet, here she was—standing frozen in the middle of the Montague Hotel’s grand ballroom, holding an empty tray, staring in absolute horror at the disaster she had just created.
A deep, crimson stain spread across Conrad Montague’s tailored black suit, the unmistakable scent of rich red wine hanging between them like an execution sentence.
The room, which had been buzzing with conversation just moments ago, now felt painfully silent.
Oh. Oh no.
Five Minutes Earlier....
Eurydice had been doing so well.
For the first thirty minutes of the gala, she had successfully avoided disaster. No broken glasses, no spilled drinks, no accidentally bumping into a guest and ruining their thousand-dollar gowns.
She had even started to relax.
Until Amelia nudged her. “Heads up. Boss Man is coming this way.”
Eurydice tensed. “Who?”
Amelia subtly tilted her chin toward the approaching figure.
Conrad Montague.
The CEO of the Montague Hotel. The most powerful man in the room. The man Eurydice had been doing her best to avoid.
Unfortunately, fate had other ideas.
As Conrad walked past, another guest gestured animatedly while speaking. A single careless movement—a sharp flick of the hand—knocked into Eurydice’s tray.
Her fingers slipped. The glasses tipped.
And just like that, an entire glass of expensive red wine went soaring through the air—
—And landed directly on Conrad Montague.
Eurydice’s entire life flashed before her eyes.
The deep red stain spread across Conrad’s crisp black suit, stark against the expensive fabric. Droplets clung to his white dress shirt, trailing down in slow, damning streaks.
For a long moment, he simply stood there, his posture unnervingly calm.
Too calm.
Oh no. He’s the silent, scary type.
Eurydice scrambled for words—any words—but her brain was stuck somewhere between fight, flight, and playing dead.
“I—um—”
Beside her, Amelia Vasquez made a choked noise that sounded suspiciously like she was trying not to laugh.
Eurydice sent her a betrayed look. Not helping.
The guest who had caused the mess—an older man in an expensive suit—cleared his throat, stepping back as if to remove himself from the crime scene. “Ah—my apologies, Conrad. I didn’t see her there.”
Oh great. Now she was getting blamed for this.
Conrad exhaled slowly, a muscle in his jaw tightening.
Eurydice finally found her voice.
“I—um—I can fix this?” she blurted out.
Conrad’s cold blue eyes flicked to her. “Can you?”
His voice was dangerously calm.
Eurydice’s panic skyrocketed. “N-no. Not really. I mean, I could, but I don’t think you’d want me to try because I don’t actually know how to—”
Amelia, no longer even pretending to be helpful, elbowed her. “Shut up.”
Eurydice snapped her mouth shut.
The air around them was suffocating. Every nearby guest was watching. Some looked scandalized, others amused.
And then—Conrad Montague sighed.
Not a heavy, dramatic sigh. Not an angry, explosive one. Just... a slow, measured breath, like a man who had decided, in real-time, that this was not the thing he would let ruin his evening.
He plucked a napkin from a passing waiter’s tray and dabbed at his suit, barely making a difference.
Then, he turned to Eurydice.
“What’s your name?”
She nearly jumped. “E-Eurydice. Eurydice Santiago.”
His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze sharpened.
“Eurydice Santiago,” he repeated, as if committing it to memory.
Why does he need to remember my name?! That can’t be good.
Finally, Conrad turned back to her. “Go get another tray,” he said evenly. “And try not to spill it this time.”
Wait.
That was it?
He wasn’t firing her on the spot?
Eurydice blinked, mouth opening, then closing. “You—you’re not going to throw me out?”
His brow arched slightly. “Would it help?”
“…No?”
“Then go.”
Eurydice didn’t need to be told twice. She turned so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet, Amelia grabbing her arm to steady her.
Eurydice had barely made it through the kitchen doors when a voice snapped—
“Santiago.”
She flinched. Manager Philip Gaines stood near the staff lockers, arms crossed, his expression a mix of frustration and barely restrained exhaustion.
Oh, she was so fired.
Philip took a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me I did not just watch you spill wine on Conrad Montague.”
Eurydice winced. “Uh. You might have seen that.”
He groaned. “Santiago, do you have any idea who that man is?”
“I do now.”
Philip gave her a look that could kill. “Conrad Montague is not just a guest. He owns this hotel. If he wanted, he could blacklist you from every high-end event in the city. Hell, he could make sure you never work in the service industry again.”
Eurydice swallowed. “So… should I just leave now?”
Philip rubbed his temples. “The strangest part is—he didn’t even react.”
Eurydice blinked. “I know, right? That was way scarier than if he had yelled at me.”
Philip shot her a glare. “This is not a joke.”
“I know,” Eurydice said quickly. “I swear, it was an accident. I didn’t even touch him! Some guy bumped my tray.”
Philip exhaled slowly, muttering something about needing a vacation. “Look. The only reason you’re not out of here is because Montague himself didn’t push for it. But I swear, Santiago—if you so much as sneeze in the wrong direction tonight, I will personally throw you out.”
Eurydice nodded rapidly. “Understood. No sneezing. No spilling. I will become invisible.”
Philip eyed her, then sighed. “Get back out there. And for the love of all things holy, do not get near Montague again.”
Eurydice saluted half-heartedly before making a quick escape.
As she re-entered the ballroom, she caught sight of Conrad once again, standing near the lounge area, now holding a new glass of wine.
This time, he wasn’t looking at her.
But she had the strangest feeling…
That he knew exactly where she was.
And that?
That was more terrifying than anything Philip could have threatened.