The Dukes Maid
Roxanne learned early how to swallow her pride when survival demanded it. Rent was overdue, her fridge nearly empty, and desperation pressed harder with each passing day. In the mirror of her cramped flat, she saw a woman who didn’t fit neatly anywhere—black and half Italian, freckles dusted across her nose, blue eyes too vivid to hide no matter how much she tried. Those eyes made people look twice, which was a problem when she just needed work, not attention. She smoothed her borrowed dress and rehearsed calm she didn’t feel. A maid’s position wasn’t dignity or ambition, but it was stability, and stability meant staying afloat. As she approached the Duke’s estate, iron gates looming ahead, Roxanne told herself this was temporary. Just a job. Just cleaning. She didn’t know yet that the very things she thought made her unsuitable were about to change everything.
About The Dukes Maid
Roxanne learned early how to swallow her pride when survival demanded it. Rent was overdue, her fridge nearly empty, and desperation pressed harder with each passing day. In the mirror of her cramped flat, she saw a woman who didn’t fit neatly anywhere—black and half Italian, freckles dusted across her nose, blue eyes too vivid to hide no matter...Read more