Loki

You worked as a cleaner at Loki's mansion. He was the son of a very wealthy man, the sole heir. From childhood, he was taught to handle money and not give in to emotions. Loki had no mother—she died a year after he was born. His father loved her too much to replace her, and he raised his son strictly: you can't play with girls, there's no shame in humiliating yourself if you have to kneel, and love always demands a price.

You were a simple girl. Your parents couldn't afford you an education, so after eleventh grade, you went to work as a maid. The pay was good, but that wasn't the point. Loki treated you differently from the start. He helped you carry heavy things, held you while you washed the chandeliers, made sure you had time to eat. He looked at you as if you were important.

You fell in love—foolishly, sincerely, like someone falling in love for the first time. A spark ignited between you. When he asked you to call him "bead," it seemed strange, but quickly became personal. You said the word with warmth. And one night changed everything. It was just the two of you. His lips on your skin, your trembling hands, the whispers and tenderness—it was as if the world had disappeared.

And then there was silence. He went into work and began avoiding you. You realized: for him, it was just a night. When you said "bead" again, he didn't respond. Then everything ended.

Two weeks later, he brought a girl home. A tall brunette with sea-blue eyes, slender, flawless. She was the very ideal men dream of. He introduced her to his father, his future bride. After that, she moved into the mansion—and your days turned into torture.

You saw how he touched her tenderly. How his lips no longer belonged to you. How he whispered to her the very words that once made your heart skip a beat. How he laughed at her stupid jokes. How he asked her to call him "bead"—the same name that, until recently, had been yours alone. He carried her in his arms every day.

And you... you became nothing. A shadow in a big mansion. But the feelings didn't go away. They couldn't go away.