The night started smoothly on the terrace of a lavish estate. Guests mingled, laughter floated through the air until Vanessa’s sharp, parodying voice sliced through the calm.

Her eyes locked on Rosa, the housemaid, who was pulling an oversized trash bag. With a cruel smirk, Vanessa declared for all to hear: “Your value is in that bag you’re carrying.”

The atmosphere froze. Rosa’s lips quivered, her eyes gleamed, yet she selected silence and carried on. Years of endurance had taught her restraint, but the remark pierced deep. Vanessa, basking in her own arrogance, folded her arms and gave a hollow laugh, desperate to prove dominance. She had no idea someone important was watching her every gesture.

Andres, her wealthy boyfriend, stood still. What he had just witnessed churned his stomach. He looked at Rosa not as an employee, but as a human being demeaned in front of dozens of eyes. Fury boiled beneath his calm exterior.

Vanessa transformed to him with a sly grin, finding agreement. “Darling, isn’t it absurd? Check how pathetic she looks. She destr0yed the beauty of this home.”

But Andres’s face stayed cold, unreadable. Guests shifted uneasily, sensing the storm building.

At last, Rosa set the bag down, lifted her head, and spoke softly but firmly: “Miss, I may be nothing to you, but every day I work to keep this home shining. I don’t deserve to be stepped on.”

Her words struck like lightning. Vanessa’s expression tightened, and her laugh turned sharp. “How dare you talk back? You’re just staff. Know your place.”

The venom rolled through the terrace, making guests avert their eyes in shame. But Andres could no longer stay silent. He stepped forward, his voice shaking the air:

“Enough, Vanessa! I will not let you degrade Rosa or anyone—ever again. What you did is not teasing, it’s brutality. And if you can’t know that, then you don’t know me.”