The laundry room smelled like detergent and arrogance. That sharp, clean scent of expensive fabric softener mixed with the musky cologne that clung to every piece of designer clothing.
I leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed, watching my mom fold a mountain of luxury. Burberry, Gucci, Versace—each item treated like sacred silk in her tired hands.
"They're planning a party," she said without glancing up.
"Shocker," I muttered.
"Ethan asked me to arrange extra help for the night. He even said please."
That made me blink. "He talked to you?"
"Briefly," she said. "He was… respectful."
"He's never respectful to me."
She stopped folding, looked at me with a tired expression. "That's different."
"Because I'm a target," I said quietly. "The live-in ghost girl. Easy to mock."
She didn't deny it. Just picked up a belt and began rolling it tight. "You'll be careful tonight?"
"What am I going to do, get drunk and fall into the pool?"
"I know how their parties go. How their friends act."
I shrugged. "I'll keep my head down."
But something told me it wouldn't matter.
By evening, the mansion was glowing. Every room buzzed with energy. Giant lights were rigged up in the back garden, casting blue and gold patterns across the pool. Inside, tables glittered with drinks, charcuterie boards, and desserts imported from France. A DJ spun bass-heavy music loud enough to rattle the glass.
Staff moved like clockwork, butlers in black and waitresses in heels carrying trays past people who didn't notice them. It was like being backstage at a fashion show—except I was stuck there permanently.
I'd invited Liana earlier that day. She showed up at eight, wearing ripped jeans and a silver halter top, her dark curls twisted into a cute updo.
"Wow," she said as she stepped inside. "Is this a party or a royal summit?"
"Depends who you ask," I said. "To me, it's a nightmare."
"Half the school is here," she whispered, scanning the crowd. "Westbridge people. Cheerleaders. Even the stoners."
I sighed. "Yeah, and somehow I'm still invisible."
She bumped me with her elbow. "Not to me."
The party roared to life by nine. Students piled in through the front entrance, girls in sequins and heels, boys in unbuttoned shirts smelling like booze and ambition. I passed through the crowd like a shadow, carrying a tray of napkins.
That's when I spotted them—the three Johnson brothers.
Caleb leaned against the wall near the lounge, a girl in a red dress giggling as she whispered in his ear. He smirked at something she said and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
Ryan was already shirtless in the pool, surrounded by two girls on inflatable flamingos. He splashed them, laughing loudly, his abs gleaming under the floodlights.
Ethan, as always, was calmer—standing on the balcony overlooking the living room, a glass of whiskey in hand. But even he had a girl by his side. Tall, tan, perfect. Her hand lingered on his arm.
I hated that it still hurt to look at them.
They were cruel. They always had been. And tonight, like always, they made sure I knew I didn't belong.
"Mia!" Ryan shouted across the pool. "You're not working hard enough! This punch tastes like sadness."
I didn't answer.
"Maybe she spiked it with her tears," Caleb called from inside, smirking.
Ethan didn't say anything, but he glanced at me—just briefly—and looked away.
Liana came up beside me. "They're unbelievable."
"They always are."
Near ten, the crowd thickened. Truth or dare started in the main lounge, bodies piled on cushions and couches, drinks sloshing in red cups. Someone passed out tiny candy-colored pills. I pretended not to see.
Liana and I stood by the corner, half-watching.
"Truth," a girl shouted. "Have you ever kissed Ryan Johnson?"
"Yes," another girl said proudly. "Last summer. He kissed back."
Screams. Laughter.
"Dare," a boy slurred. "Make out with the person on your left!"
More screams.
I scanned the room, feeling like an alien. That's when I spotted him.
Aaron.
My crush since sophomore year. Tall, caramel-skinned, soft curls and hazel eyes. He was across the room, arm around a blonde I didn't know. He didn't look at me once.
Of course he didn't.
I was Mia. The maid's daughter. The background noise in his spotlight.
"You okay?" Liana asked softly.
"I'm fine." But my voice cracked.
And then, as if the night couldn't get worse, a group of boys from school approached.
"Hey," one of them said, his eyes roaming me head to toe. "Didn't know help was allowed out of the basement."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You clean this place, right?" another snickered. "Wanna clean my—"
"Walk away," a sharp voice cut through the music.
It was Ethan. He stood right behind me, eyes hard, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Now," Caleb said, appearing at his side.
The boys paled. "We were just joking—"
"She's not yours to joke about," Ryan said from behind them, towel slung over his shoulder.
They scattered like rats.
I stood frozen, confused.
"You okay, House Mouse?" Ryan asked, stepping closer. His voice was teasing, but softer.
"I didn't ask for your help," I muttered.
"Too bad," Caleb said, brushing past me. "We don't like sharing our toys."
I turned on him. "I'm not your toy."
He grinned and walked away without answering.
The night only got crazier.
At midnight, the strippers arrived. Four of them—two women and two men—dressed in glitter and almost nothing. They took over the main sitting room, dancing on tables while the crowd cheered like animals.
I watched in stunned silence as one of the girls poured champagne down Caleb's chest while another boy filmed it.
Liana nudged me. "Are we still in college?"
"I'm not sure anymore."
People were kissing, grinding, smoking, laughing like this was the last night on Earth.
And through it all, I had one haunting thought:
If only they knew.
If only they knew they were partying inside a house full of werewolves. If only they knew that behind the charm and smiles and bodies, the Johnson brothers were something else entirely. Something darker. Wilder. S
omething dangerous.
They weren't just spoiled rich boys. They were predators. And I had grown up under their claws.
And still… I couldn't look away.