Chapter 3
The very first day Sophia moved in, she took over like she owned the place.
“This couch is way too dark,” she said lightly, running a perfectly manicured finger along the edge of the leather. Then, flashing a soft smile at Ethan, she added, “Don’t you think something in ivory would brighten up the space?”
Ethan didn’t even blink.
He turned to the housekeeper. “Get it replaced. Whatever Miss Bennett wants.”
At the top of the stairs, Emily watched in silence as the workers carried out the sofa she’d painstakingly picked out just six months ago.
Lucas and Lily trailed after Sophia like two giddy shadows, pointing at pillows and laughing.
“Auntie Sophia, this throw pillow is so ugly! Mommy bought it. Can we toss it too?”
Sophia smiled sweetly and tousled their hair. “Of course. Let’s swap everything out.”
Emily’s hands clenched into fists at her sides—but only for a second. Then she let go.
Those throw pillows? She had sewn them by hand while pregnant, every stitch filled with care. They were hypoallergenic, made with special down,
because the children had sensitive skin as babies.
Now they were lying at the bottom of the trash bin. Like they’d never mattered.
In the days that followed, the house grew more and more unfamiliar.
At dinner, Sophia sat in what used to be Emily’s seat, gently filling the kids‘ plates.
Ethan, who once treated Emily like she was invisible, now poured Sophia coffee himself–long fingers nudging the cup toward her with a soft warmth Emily had never known.
At night, the lights in the living room dimmed to a soft glow, and the four of them would huddle on the couch for movie nights.
Lily curled up in Sophia’s arms. Lucas leaned against Ethan’s shoulder.
Laughter echoed from the living room like a cruel joke.
When Emily passed by, none of them even looked up.
She might as well have been a ghost.
What made it worse?
They used to be picky–insufferably picky.
Now?
Now she watched Sophia carelessly drop Ethan’s million–dollar Patek Philippe face–down on the coffee table… and he just smiled and put it on.
The kids ran off to school in uniforms Sophia had casually thrown in the washer–stains still visible on the collars from yesterday’s lunch.
And her so–called “home–cooked” dinners?
Takeout dumped on plates–yet Ethan and the kids still ate them like it was five–star cuisine.
Worse still, they treated Sophia like royalty.
“Don’t touch those dishes, Sophia.” Ethan reached out and gently stopped her hand. “Your hands were made to play piano, not clean up.”
“Auntie Sophia, let me carry your purse!” Lucas grabbed her limited–edition designer bag like a little knight offering his sword.
“Miss Sophia only needs to rest,” the housekeeper said, bowing as she offered her a pair of handmade Italian slippers. “We’ll take care of everything else.”
How ironic.
Emily had been the “live–in maid” for six years, and no one gave a damn.
Yet Sophia shows up for a week and they’re all falling over themselves to serve her like she’s some fairy–tale princess.
Chapter 3
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The staff whispered behind her back.
“Mr. Caldwell’s never treated Mrs. Caldwell like this.”
“Those kids are glued to her. Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if the mistress of this house changes real soon.”
Emily had nothing left to say. Nothing left to feel.
She stopped fighting, stopped caring.
Just quietly packed her things, one box at a time.
Until that afternoon, when her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
“Mrs. Caldwell! It’s the school–the kids had an allergic reaction! They’ve been taken to the hospital!”
By the time she rushed into the ER, both kids had already been wheeled into the trauma bay.
Ethan stood in the hallway, his suit jacket slung over one arm, tie half–undone, eyes blazing with barely contained rage.
“Emily,” he said, voice low and tight, “what the hell were you thinking?”
She blinked, confused. “What?”
“They’re allergic to mango. You knew that. So why the hell did they drink mango juice?”
Emily stared back, unwavering. “I didn’t give them mango. I never even keep it in the house.”
She’d been careful–painfully careful–ever since the first time the children had been hospitalized.
She had warned every staff member. Checked school menus personally.
She would never risk something like this.
“Oh, right.” Ethan let out a bitter laugh. “So what, it just magically appeared? The housekeeper did it? The kids poisoned themselves?”
Emily opened her mouth to argue, but just then the nurse stepped out.
“They’re awake.”
Inside the room, both kids lay pale and groggy in their hospital beds.
As Ethan entered, they exchanged a quick glance–then pointed straight at Emily.
“It was Mom!” they said in unison.
“She gave us the snack. It had mango in it!”
Emily froze. Her heart plummeted.
She stared at them, stunned.
“You… what did you just say?”
Chapter 3
