I was cursed to kill him with a kiss.
Not a dagger. Not fire or spell. Just lips and breath — a kiss crafted by gods who never forgave.
The estate loomed like a modern temple, all glass and shadows, perched above the city like it knew it didn't belong here. Just like him. Just like me.
"Welcome to the Caelus residence," the butler said, not looking me in the eye. "He doesn't like noise. Or questions."
Kieran Caelus. The divine heir. Billionaire. God's blood in a three-piece suit.
I clenched the small suitcase in my hand. The sigils on my arm burned slightly under the sleeve of my uniform — a warning. A reminder. The witch clan's punishment pulsed with every step I took closer to him.
They had sealed my powers and gifted me a slow death. Only one way to survive: make him fall in love with me, steal his kiss… and destroy him.
But from what I heard, Kieran Caelus didn't believe in love anymore.
And he definitely didn't kiss maids.
I followed the butler down a long, echoing corridor lined with silver frames and walls that didn't look lived in. The silence here felt curated, like it had been purchased to replace warmth.
Everything about this place whispered power. But not the ordinary kind.
Divine blood had a scent — cold, metallic, and electric. I could feel it pulsing through the walls, even though I hadn't seen him yet.
We reached a tall, ornate door at the end of the hallway. The butler paused, straightened his suit, and knocked twice before pushing it open.
He was standing by the window, silhouetted against the skyline. Even from behind, Kieran Caelus radiated something ancient… dangerous.
"Sir," the butler said stiffly, "the new maid is here."
Kieran turned slowly, and I caught my breath.
His eyes were a deep, unnatural shade of gold — not bright, but burning. His face was sculpted like a statue, sharp angles and cold perfection. If arrogance had a form, it was this man. No warmth. No welcome.
Only power.
"I don't recall asking for a new maid," he said. His voice was low and smooth — like a blade wrapped in velvet.
"I volunteered," I said, forcing calm into my tone. "Last-minute replacement. I heard your last maid quit."
"She didn't quit," he said, walking closer. "She ran."
I held his gaze. "I don't scare easily."
"Then you're either foolish or desperate."
The sigils under my skin pulsed again — hard. A warning? Or a reaction to him?
He studied me, those golden eyes unblinking. Then, finally, he said, "Fine. You may stay. But know this, Miss…?"
"Elara," I supplied.
"Miss Elara." His voice dropped an octave. "The last person who crossed boundaries in this house found themselves forgotten by the world in less than a day."
He turned his back and walked away, his footsteps silent.
"Clean the east wing. Don't enter the north side. Ever."
And just like that, I was dismissed.
But he'd made one mistake.
He thought I was just another girl seeking employment.
He didn't know I was a curse wrapped in flesh, a kiss sharpened by fate.
And I had just stepped into the lion's den.
None of his workers reeked of power. Every soul under his roof was unmistakably human.
It puzzled me. A man like Kieran — born of gods, wrapped in divinity — chose to surround himself with mortals who would never sense what he truly was.
Or what I truly wasn't… anymore.
With my powers stripped and sealed, I had nothing but shadows beneath my skin. No aura. No glow. No scent of magic. Just scars hidden under long sleeves, and a quiet rage that I tucked behind every bow and nod.
It hid me perfectly.
I was shown to my room — surprisingly spacious and elegant, warmer than anything I had ever slept in, even as a child. The witch clan never wasted luxury on a girl marked for sacrifice.
"Are you the new maid?" a voice called from behind.
I turned. A girl with blunt bangs and a chipped mug in her hand leaned on the doorframe.
I gave a small nod.
"Another stray," a second girl chimed from deeper in the hallway. "Heard she volunteered. Said she'd rather scrub floors than sleep in the gutter."
They chuckled.
"You think she'll last longer than the last one?"
"I don't think she's got the spine."
They talked like I wasn't there. But I didn't care. Let them underestimate me.
Was I to be scared of him?
Of the man the world called the silent king?
Please. I was raised among witches who bound their own to fire and poisoned kisses. I had heard Elara whispered like a curse — a name marked for vengeance.
My mission was clear: infiltrate his world, make him fall, seal it with a kiss… and leave before the curse devoured me.
I just had to stay invincible.
Invisible.
"Elara," a firm voice called.
I turned sharply.
A woman in her mid-forties with greying curls and strict eyes stood with a clipboard in hand.
"You're assigned to Kieran's chamber," she said. "You'll handle everything concerning him directly."
My heart ticked once — not from fear, but satisfaction.
One step ahead already.
"Make sure to address him as Sir at all times. And mind this — you get only three warnings. After that, if he's displeased, not even I can protect you from his wrath."
She handed me a schedule and a keycard.
"Welcome," she added, and walked off.
—
I started my first task in silence — wiping down the glass table in his private lounge, still untouched since morning.
Everything was spotless. Even the air felt expensive. Heavy with cologne, order, and something else beneath it.
Power.
My fingers paused on a faint smudge on a crystal decanter. I bent slightly to polish it—when I heard it.
A voice.
Not loud.
But clear.
"You're not afraid of me."
My heart stalled.
I turned, slowly.
He stood at the archway — shirt unbuttoned at the top, jacket hanging off one shoulder. Golden eyes sharper than before, almost… curious.
Something ancient shimmered beneath his calm exterior.
The room shifted. Energy buzzed in the walls. My sigils pulsed like an echo to his presence.
"No," I answered quietly.
He tilted his head, a flicker of amusement — or was it warning?
"Then you should be."
For a split second — just one — I saw it.
A flicker of something raw in his eyes. Not anger.
Fear.
His own.
And just like that, he turned and walked out.
But I saw it.
The moment the divine powerhouse flinched — not at my presence…
But at something he recognized in me.
Something I had yet to understand.