Service with a smirk
Posted: Sun Feb 01, 2026 6:21 pm
https://www.deviantart.com/knuddel76g/a ... =published
Diana Van Cartier had always prided herself on running a tight ship at the Cartier estate. Security was paramount, and staff were vetted with the utmost scrutiny. Yet, as she sat bound to her favorite gilded armchair in the drawing room, the rough ropes biting into her elegant navy evening gown, she realized a wolf had walked right through the front door.
Beside her sat the humiliating evidence of the security breach. Her loyal personal maid, usually impeccably dressed, was currently shivering and bound to a matching chair, stripped down to her black lingerie.
Standing over them was the "new hire" from the agency—or so Diana had thought. The impostor smoothed down the front of the crisp white apron she was wearing, which looked suspiciously like the one that belonged to the woman tied up next to Diana. In her hand, she clutched a heavy velvet bag that Diana knew contained the contents of the master suite's wall safe.
The thief caught Diana’s furious glare and let out a cold, amused laugh. She pirouetted in the stolen uniform, mocking the situation.
"Don't look so sour, Mrs. Van Cartier," the intruder teased, adjusting the white headpiece. She glanced over at the shivering maid. "And my apologies to you, dear. I needed something to wear to get past the gate security, and yours was just my size."
She strolled toward the double doors, pausing to look back at her handiwork—two helpless women in a room full of priceless antiques.
"You can scowl at me all you want," she said with a malicious grin, echoing the words that would haunt Diana for weeks. "I’ll return your maid's uniform on my way out. Though I must say... I think I wore it better."
Diana Van Cartier had always prided herself on running a tight ship at the Cartier estate. Security was paramount, and staff were vetted with the utmost scrutiny. Yet, as she sat bound to her favorite gilded armchair in the drawing room, the rough ropes biting into her elegant navy evening gown, she realized a wolf had walked right through the front door.
Beside her sat the humiliating evidence of the security breach. Her loyal personal maid, usually impeccably dressed, was currently shivering and bound to a matching chair, stripped down to her black lingerie.
Standing over them was the "new hire" from the agency—or so Diana had thought. The impostor smoothed down the front of the crisp white apron she was wearing, which looked suspiciously like the one that belonged to the woman tied up next to Diana. In her hand, she clutched a heavy velvet bag that Diana knew contained the contents of the master suite's wall safe.
The thief caught Diana’s furious glare and let out a cold, amused laugh. She pirouetted in the stolen uniform, mocking the situation.
"Don't look so sour, Mrs. Van Cartier," the intruder teased, adjusting the white headpiece. She glanced over at the shivering maid. "And my apologies to you, dear. I needed something to wear to get past the gate security, and yours was just my size."
She strolled toward the double doors, pausing to look back at her handiwork—two helpless women in a room full of priceless antiques.
"You can scowl at me all you want," she said with a malicious grin, echoing the words that would haunt Diana for weeks. "I’ll return your maid's uniform on my way out. Though I must say... I think I wore it better."