Chapter 5: A Night with the Stars
Nathan Maxwell leaned against the glass wall of his office, staring down at the city below. The skyline glittered like diamonds scattered across velvet, and he couldn't help but smile with quiet satisfaction. The weight of running Maxwell Enterprise rested heavily on his shoulders, but he had grown to thrive under the pressure. Yet, despite the luxury, success, and admiration he bathed in daily, there was a void—a silence that even wealth could not fill.
As the clock struck 5 PM, Nathan pressed the intercom. "Emily, make sure the mansion is spotless tonight. I'm expecting a special guest. Someone important."
Emily, ever dutiful and calm, responded softly. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure everything is perfect."
He paused a second. "Prepare a light dinner. Something elegant but not too fussy. Just… comforting."
"Understood, sir."
Back at the mansion, Emily tied her apron and got to work. The flowers in the vases were replaced, the table settings adjusted, and the soft scent of vanilla candles wafted through the hallway. Though she didn't know who the special guest was, she suspected it was another woman. That alone made her stomach twist. Since she turned eighteen, the Maxwells had treated her like family. Mrs. Regina Maxwell entrusted her care to Nathan when she left, believing Emily was capable, loyal, and most importantly—trustworthy.
Yet in moments like this, as she polished the mahogany railing or fluffed the cushions in the guest lounge, she felt like a stranger in her own skin.
Emily paused as the sound of Nathan's Lamborghini pulled into the driveway. She smoothed her dress and stepped back just as the door swung open. Nathan entered, looking ruggedly handsome in his charcoal gray suit. His tie was slightly loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of his chiseled chest.
Trailing behind him was a woman whose presence nearly took Emily's breath away.
Brittany John.
The Brittany John.
The celebrated Hollywood actress with an illustrious career and a sultry gaze that commanded every camera. Her golden waves of hair spilled past her shoulders, and her designer heels echoed on the tiled floor as she walked in.
"Emily," Nathan said without missing a beat. "This is Brittany. She'll be joining me for dinner and staying the night. Please, make sure she's comfortable."
Emily nodded, hiding her unease behind a calm smile. "Of course, sir. Miss John, welcome."
Brittany gave a soft laugh, brushing Emily off with a nod. "Nice place," she said, twirling slowly in admiration.
Nathan led her to the plush lounge while Emily slipped into the kitchen, preparing the meal with focused precision. Her hands moved automatically, but her thoughts raced. Nathan had brought women home before—Jasmine just a few nights ago—but Brittany was on a different level. She wasn't just beautiful; she was powerful. The kind of woman magazines adored. The kind of woman men fought to impress.
In the living room, Nathan poured two glasses of red wine. Brittany walked around the space, taking in the luxury, then turned to face him.
"You didn't tell me your place was this gorgeous," she said, sipping slowly.
Nathan smirked. "You didn't ask."
They exchanged flirty banter, the kind that dripped with sensual energy and unspoken promises. Emily returned with their dinner—grilled salmon, roasted asparagus, and creamy mashed potatoes.
"Looks delicious," Brittany said with a wink. "Thanks, um…"
"Emily," Nathan answered for her.
Emily gave a courteous nod, then retreated upstairs, her heart heavy.
Back in the kitchen, she tried not to listen, but the walls seemed thinner tonight. The laughter. The clinking glasses. Then the sound of heels clicking toward the stairs.
Moments later, faint moans and muffled words filtered into the quiet night.
"I want to make sweet love to you," she heard Nathan murmur.
"Then kiss me," Brittany replied, breathless.
Emily closed her eyes. The ache in her chest deepened. She wasn't supposed to feel this way. Nathan wasn't hers. He never had been. He made it clear—he didn't want commitment. Just company. Pleasure. A night to escape.
The next morning, Emily avoided eye contact as she set the breakfast table. Nathan came down shirtless, towel slung over his neck, freshly showered.
Brittany trailed behind in one of his shirts.
They ate leisurely, laughed over coffee, and kissed before Nathan escorted her to his car. He dropped her off without a word of seriousness. He had done this before. Jasmine. Brittany. Maybe another next week.
To Nathan, women were like stars in his galaxy—beautiful, distant, fleeting.
But to Emily, he was the sun.
And he didn't even know she was orbiting him.
Later that day at the office, Kristy Bennett leaned over his desk a little too deliberately, pretending to drop a file.
Nathan didn't take the bait. "Kristy," he said sharply. "You've worked here for years—even with my father. Don't ruin that professionalism now. Focus on your job."
She stood upright, her cheeks flushed. "Yes, sir."
He didn't miss the hurt in her eyes, but he didn't care. He wasn't interested.
He had no time for workplace flirtations. No time for love.
He just wanted… company.
That night, Emily washed the dishes alone. As the lights dimmed and the house grew quiet, she whispered into the silence:
"How long can one serve love in silence… before the heart gives out?"