At exactly eight o’clock that morning, Emily Carter was polishing the glass coffee table in the Harrington mansion’s living room when she heard the rumble of engines outside the gate.
She glanced through the window and froze for a moment.
Five luxury cars were pulling into the driveway one after another, their glossy bodies reflecting the pale morning sunlight like something from a magazine advertisement.
Emily had been working at the Harrington estate for only four months, but she already understood enough about the household to know that days like this didn’t happen by accident.
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