Ma woke up like someone who had just been promoted by destiny.
She sat up on the bed in the maid’s quarters, stretched dramatically, and declared, “Good morning, future millionaire.”
One of the maids on the other bed hissed, “Please reduce your volume. This is not a market.”
Ma smiled sweetly. “Sorry, I forgot. In rich people’s houses, even noise is expensive.”
Another maid muttered under her breath, “This one will not last.”
Ma turned instantly. “Don’t worry, I came with spare life. Even if I expire, I will renew.”
Dressed in her crisp black-and-white apron, curly hair tied neatly in a bun, Ma stepped into the mansion like she already owned two percent of the shares.
She cleaned fast, efficiently, but with commentary.
As she wiped the glass table in the living room, she spoke to it.
“Shine well. Your owner is rich. Don’t embarrass him.”
One maid passing by paused. “Who are you talking to?”
Ma did not look up. “Motivation. Everything needs encouragement.”
In the kitchen, she was arranging plates when she suddenly gasped.
“Mama Grace!”
Mama Grace turned. “What is it?”
Ma held up a golden spoon. “This spoon—if it enters my village, they will give it a title.”
Mama Grace burst out laughing. “Focus on your work.”
“I am focusing. I’m just appreciating wealth.”
The other maids gathered later, as expected.
“Did you see how she talks?”
“She thinks this place is a comedy show.”
“Let’s see how long she survives.”
But one maid, Ngozi, smiled. “I like her. At least this house is not looking like a cemetery again.”
Upstairs, Anthony stood behind his glass window, watching the compound absentmindedly.
Then he heard it.
Laughter.
Loud. Uncontrolled. Different.
He frowned slightly. “What is that noise?”
His assistant cleared his throat. “Sir, the new maid.”
Anthony did not respond, but he kept listening.
Something about that laughter.
It did not annoy him.
It pulled at something.
That evening, Anthony walked into the dining area, then paused.
He turned to Mama Grace.
“I want dinner in my room tonight.”
Mama Grace raised an eyebrow slightly. “Your room?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
But as she turned away, she smiled to herself.
It has started.
In the kitchen, Mama Grace handed the tray to Ma.
“Take this to his room.”
Ma froze. “His room?”
“Yes.”
“The main room?”
“Yes.”
“The billionaire room?”
