A cleaning lady approached a millionaire and told him not to travel with his wife. The next morning, there was a luxury car next to her humble house…

Emily wiped her brow, her fingers trembling slightly as she gripped the rag tighter.

The scent of bleach lingered in the air, mixing with the faint perfume of luxury that seemed to be soaked into every corner of the hotel room. She’d been working here for over two years, cleaning rooms that belonged to people who probably didn’t even know she existed. They walked past her as if she were invisible, as if she were part of the background, like the marble floors or the crystal chandeliers hanging in the lobby.

That day started like any other. Emily had entered the suite of James Wilson, the well-known billionaire with her usual routine in mind, dust, vacuum, and be out of the room before anyone even noticed she’d been there. James was one of those men she had never really seen up close.

He was always coming and going, surrounded by assistants, rarely spending more than a few minutes in his room. But that day was different. As she dusted the nightstand, something caught her attention.

Voices, hushed but sharp, echoed from the adjoining room. Emily froze, rag still in hand. It wasn’t uncommon to hear conversations between guests, but something about this one felt off.

She couldn’t help but lean closer to the door. The voice on the other side, a woman’s, was familiar. Amanda, James Wilson’s wife, whom she had seen in passing on several occasions.

Emily could hear Amanda’s voice, but it wasn’t the loving tone one might expect from a wife. He’ll never see it coming, Amanda whispered, her words dripping with malice. Emily’s heart skipped a beat.

We’ll make sure the trip is the last one he ever takes, a man responded, his voice low and cold. Emily didn’t recognize the man, but the tension in the air was unmistakable. It wasn’t just a casual conversation.

This was a plan, a plan to kill. Her pulse quickened. She was suddenly very aware of her surroundings.

The quiet hum of the air conditioner, the muffled noise from the hallway, and the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. Every part of her body screamed to leave, to pretend she hadn’t heard anything, to go back to her life of scrubbing floors and changing sheets without getting involved. But her feet wouldn’t move.

Ryan, we need to be careful. One slip up and everything’s ruined. Amanda’s voice cut through the air again, colder this time.

Ryan, Emily didn’t know much about Amanda, but she definitely knew Amanda wasn’t married to anyone named Ryan. This was more than a murder plot. This was betrayal at its core.

The weight of what she had just heard settled in her chest like a stone. Amanda and her lover were planning to kill James Wilson during his next business trip. And no one knew.

Emily backed away from the door, her breath coming in shallow gasps. What was she supposed to do, call the police, tell someone? But who would believe her? She was a maid, just the help. People like Amanda didn’t even notice people like her…