Chapter 27: [Volu One Finale] Welco to the Family
I was being hired to do the impossible.
"Zay."
Iris’s voice pulled
back. She was leaning over, her ran forgotten, trying to read the screen.
"What is it? You’ve been staring at that thing for like five minutes."
I didn’t answer. She leaned closer, her chin nearly resting on my shoulder as she scanned the docunt.
Her eyes went wide.
"Ten thousand dollars a month?!"
"Keep reading."
She did. Her expression shifted as she absorbed the details. The car. The weekends. The performance clause.
"They’re giving you a Lexus?" she asked.
"Loaning. Not giving. Big difference."
"What kind of Lexus?"
I was already typing into my phone’s search bar. An image filled the screen. Sleek black sedan. Curved lines. LED headlights that looked like sothing out of a science fiction movie. The interior shots showed leather seats, a digital dashboard, technology that belonged in a different universe from our battered apartnt.
Iris made a sound that was half gasp, half whisper.
"That’s... that’s a real car. Like, a grown-up car."
"Apparently."
I closed the laptop.
The screen went dark. The glow from the TV beca the only light source again. The YouTuber had started a new ga, but neither of us was paying attention anymore.
"That’s the offer," I said. "The money is life-changing. I’d be ho by ten on weeknights instead of two in the morning."
"But?" Iris asked. She always knew when a ’but’ was coming.
"Two weekends a month. I’d be gone Friday evening through Sunday evening. And the job isn’t just... running errands. I have to tutor one of the daughters. Improve her grades by the end of the sester or I’m out."
"Can you do that?"
"Seven people have already tried and failed."
Iris processed this. Her expression shifted into sothing serious.
"Two weekends a month," she repeated. "So... four days total?"
"Technically six since I’ll be gone Friday."
"But you’d be ho every weeknight?"
"By ten, theoretically."
"And you wouldn’t have to take the train anymore?"
"I’d have the car."
"And we’d have..." She paused, doing the math in her head. "Ten thousand a month instead of three?"
"Before taxes, but essentially yes."
The silence stretched between us. On the screen, the YouTuber encountered another jump scare. Neither of us flinched.
"I could stay at Sarah’s house on those weekends," Iris said finally. "Her mom loves . She’s always asking if I want to co over for dinner."
"Iris..."
"Or I could stay here. I’m fourteen, Zay, not four. I know how to lock a door and use a microwave."
"This neighborhood..."
"Is the sa neighborhood it’s always been. And Mrs. Delgado checks on
every day anyway. Mr. Kowalski too. They’re like backup parents I didn’t ask for."
I opened my mouth to argue. She cut
off.
"We could call. And FaceTi. Every night if you want." She looked at , her dark eyes clear, her expression certain. "And you’d be here. Really here. For dinner on weeknights. We haven’t had that since... forever."
My chest tightened.
She was right.
When was the last ti we’d eaten dinner together on a weekday? When was the last ti I’d been ho before midnight, before she’d already fallen asleep with her sketchbook open on her chest?
Years.
It had been years.
Iris reached over and put her hand on the closed laptop. Her fingers were small against the worn plastic surface, her nails painted a chipped purple that was already starting to peel.
"Take the job, Zay. It’s a no-brainer." She smiled, and for a mont she looked exactly like mom. The good version of mom. "I’ll be fine. We’ll be better."
I looked at Iris.
She was willing to give up eight days a month with
so that I could be present for the other twenty-two.
She was willing to sacrifice so I wouldn’t have to sacrifice everything.
For her, I thought. I’d sign anything.
I opened the laptop again.
The docunt was still there. The e-sign button glowed at the bottom of the page, waiting for my decision.
"You’re sure?" I asked.
"Positive."
"If anything happens while I’m gone..."
"I’ll call you imdiately. And Mrs. Delgado. And probably the fire departnt, the police, and the national guard, in that order."
"I’m serious, Iris."
"So am I." She punched my shoulder lightly. "Stop treating
like a baby. I’ve been basically running this apartnt while you work yourself to death for three years. I think I can handle two weekends a month."
I clicked the signature box. A keypad appeared, asking for my legal na.
I typed: Isaiah Marcus Angelo
The docunt processed. A confirmation ssage appeared.
Signature complete. Docunt has been sent to all parties.
"Done," I said.
Iris whooped and threw her arms around my neck, nearly knocking the laptop off my lap. Her ran cup tumbled to the floor, spilling broth across the worn carpet.
"We’re getting a car!" she yelled. "A real car! Zay, we’re going to be like actual people!"
"We were already actual people."
"You know what I an! Rich people! Normal people! People who don’t have to count coins for laundry!"
I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight. She slled like instant noodles and the cheap shampoo we bought in bulk from the dollar store.
"It’s just a job," I said.
"It’s a fancy job with a fancy car and fancy money."
"The money’s not fancy. It’s just... more."
"More is fancy when you’re starting from less than nothing." She pulled back, grinning. "I can’t wait to tell Sarah. She’s going to flip. Her family has a Honda Civic and she acts like it’s a Rolls-Royce."
"Don’t tell anyone about the job specifics."
"Why not?"
"Because the people I’m working for are... complicated. And I signed an NDA."
"A what?"
"A non-disclosure agreent. It ans I can’t talk about them publicly."
Iris’s eyes went wide. "Are they famous? Are they criminals? Are they famous criminals?"
"No, they’re... they’re the Valentine family."
Silence.
"Wait." Iris sat up straighter. "Valentine? Like Valentine costics? Like the makeup brand?"
"Yes."
"Zay. That’s like... they’re on billboards. They’re in magazines. They’re on the sides of buses."
"I know."
"You’re going to work for the Valentine family?"
"For their daughters, specifically."
Iris stared at . Then she grabbed her phone and started typing furiously.
"What are you doing?"
"Googling."
"Iris..."
"Oh my god, they’re gorgeous. Like, unfairly gorgeous. All four of them." She held up her phone, showing
an image of the Valentine sisters at so charity gala. Wine-red hair, purple eyes, designer dresses, perfect smiles. "You’re going to be working with them? Living in their house on weekends?"
"Apparently."
"Zay." She lowered her phone, her expression shifting to sothing between awe and concern. "These girls are way out of your league."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"I’m serious. They look like ani characters co to life. And you look like..." She gestured vaguely at . "You."
"Again. Thanks."
"Just... be careful, okay? Rich people are weird. They have different rules."
You have no idea, I thought. But I just nodded.
"I’ll be careful."
"And text . Every day. Even when you’re at the mansion."
"I will."
"And eat real food, not just whatever fancy stuff they probably serve."
"Iris, rich people have excellent food. That’s like the whole point of being rich."
"You know what I an. Don’t forget about us normal folk just because you’re rubbing elbows with billionaires."
I ruffled her hair. She swatted my hand away.
"Never," I said. "You’re the reason I’m doing this, rember?"
She softened at that. The playful annoyance faded from her expression, replaced by sothing gentler.
"I know," she said quietly. "And I love you for it. Even if you are an idiot who works too hard."
"Love you too, brat."
She stuck her tongue out at . I stuck mine out back.
My phone buzzed. A new email notification.
From:
Subject: Welco to the Valentine Household
Mr. Angelo,
Your signed agreent has been received. You will report to the Valentine Estate on Monday at 3:30 PM to begin your one month probationary period. A vehicle will be delivered to your residence Sunday evening for your use beginning Monday morning.
Welco to the family.
Regards,
Miranda
Personal Assistant to Mrs. Camille Valentine
***
END OF VOLU ONE: The Cards I Was Dealt
===
Author’s Note
Hey everyone, Riki here.
So you made it to the end of Volu One. Twenty-six Chapters of Isaiah Angelo getting thrown headfirst into the Valentine family chaos, and you stuck around for the whole ride. That ans sothing to . Genuinely.
When I started writing this story, I had a simple idea. What happens when you take a guy who has absolutely nothing except his brain and his work ethic, and you drop him into a world where money flows like water and four gorgeous sisters treat personal assistants like disposable tissues? Seven assistants quit before Isaiah even walked through those ridiculous golden gates. Seven people looked at the Valentine household and said "absolutely not."
Isaiah looked at ten thousand dollars a month and said "absolutely yes."
That’s the difference between soone who has options and soone who doesn’t. And that tension, that gap between worlds, is what makes this story tick for .
I want to take a second to thank you for reading. Not the generic "thanks for your support" that every author slaps at the end of their work. I an actually thank you. You chose to spend your ti with these characters. You could have read anything else. You could have watched a show or played a ga or doom-scrolled through social dia until your eyes glazed over. Instead you chose this.
Now, here’s where I have to put on my business hat for a second. Starting with Volu Two, Chapters will be available through Webnovel’s premium system. I know, I know. Nobody likes paywalls. But here’s the reality of my situation: writing is my job. Not my hobby, not my side hustle, my actual job.
The one that pays my rent and keeps instant ran on my table. And the only way I can keep producing content at the pace you deserve is if the story generates enough support to justify the ti investnt.
The good news? For dedicated readers, you can get up to twenty Chapters ahead by unlocking the Privilege tiers. That’s right. Twenty Chapters. While everyone else is watching Isaiah survive his first week at the mansion, you could already be deep into the chaos that cos later. And trust , it gets chaotic.
Your support does more than just keep
writing. The more engagent this story gets, the more Webnovel pushes it to new readers. The more new readers discover it, the more motivation I have to write faster. The more I write, the more content you get. It’s a win-win-win situation. Everybody benefits.
So if you’ve enjoyed Volu One, consider dropping a power stone or golden ticket. Leave a comnt. Write a review. Unlock those Privilege Chapters if you can. Every bit of support helps, and I genuinely read all the feedback you leave.
Volu Two starts Monday. Isaiah’s first official day as the Valentine family’s newest employee. His first real test of whether he can survive where seven others failed.
The Valentine sisters are waiting.
And they’re not known for being patient.
See you soon.
Riki out
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