The Heiress and the Help

I used my status and wealth to force the housekeeper’s son, Caleb Vance, to marry me.

We’ve been married for two years. I control his life. I boss him around. I treat him like he’s still the help.

Today, he annoyed me again.

Just as I raised my hand, ready to slap that stoic look off his face, a stream of floating text boxes scrolled across my vision:

[Ugh, I hate this bratty villainess! She has such ‘Princess Syndrome.’ Why hasn’t the Male Lead divorced her yet?]

[Let her throw a tantrum. This slap is the final straw. It’s what makes him go cold. When her family goes bankrupt next week, he’s going to steal their last project.]

[Does the villainess know? Her daddy is broke!]

[Total ruin. She ends up jumping into the ocean.]

[Meanwhile, our Male Lead’s tech startup goes IPO. He’s not the poor boy she bullied anymore. He’s going to live happily ever after with the Heroine!]

I froze. My hand hovered inches from Caleb’s cheek.

He looked down at me, confused.

“Why did you stop?”

1

When Caleb walked in with the groceries, I smashed a glass on the floor.

He paused, set the bags down, and walked over to me in three long strides.

His voice was low, gentle. “What’s wrong?”

I crossed my arms, glaring. “Why did you hire that girl I hate at your company?”

Caleb looked genuinely baffled.

“Who?”

My anger spiked. He didn’t even know who I hated! I had definitely mentioned her.

I raised my hand, ready to slap him like I used to.

That’s when the weird text appeared.

I froze.

Me?

The villainess?

My family is going to go bankrupt? My dad and brother in jail? My mom dying of depression?

Me… jumping into the ocean?

And Caleb, my husband, living happily ever after with her—Emily Clarke—the “Heroine” the text mentioned?

I stared into space for too long. Caleb gently took my wrist.

“Why didn’t you hit me?”

I let out a dry, awkward laugh and pulled my hand back. “It’s your company. Obviously, you can hire whoever you want.”

The floating text popped up again:

[Why did she stop?]

[Doesn’t matter. He’s already sick of her. Wait until he meets our gentle, sweet Heroine.]

Caleb frowned. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Send me the list of all new hires from the past month.”

I sat on the sofa, panic rising in my chest. Bankruptcy? Jail?

I couldn’t afford to annoy Caleb anymore.

I watched him crouch down to pick up the glass shards. Then he went to the utility closet for the mop.

“The salesman said this glass was shatterproof,” I muttered, feeling guilty.

Caleb paused. I thought I heard a small chuckle.

“It’s better to let your temper out than keep it in.”

After cleaning the living room, he sat next to me. “HR is compiling the list. Want to tell me who it is?”

“I don’t manage your hiring,” I deflected.

But under his patient gaze, I finally cracked. “Emily Clarke.”

The comments flooded my vision:

[LMAO. Does the villainess think he’s going to fire the Heroine?]

[They have similar backgrounds! They are soulmates!]

[The Heroine isn’t bratty. She would never make the Male Lead cook instant noodles at midnight or wash her feet.]

2

My temper, which I’d just suppressed, flared up again.

I was furious.

Caleb did those things because he wanted to! I never forced him to wash my feet!

“Emily Clarke? Your college roommate?” Caleb’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t hire her. I didn’t even know she was there.”

“I’ll check tomorrow. I’ll give you an answer after work, okay?”

I pouted. “Okay. But you’re not allowed to see her.”

Caleb nodded. “I have no intention of seeing her.”

He took the groceries to the kitchen.

[Wow. The villainess is trying to stop fate?]

[Don’t worry, the official couple always meets. She can’t stop it.]

I tried to ignore the floating text.

At noon, I had texted him a menu of what I wanted for dinner. I peeked into the bags—he had bought exactly what I asked for.

“Wait,” I called out to his back. “You worked all day. Let the housekeeper cook.”

Caleb’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Are you worried about me?”

“I just… I’ll cook. You like my cooking.”

He walked into the kitchen anyway.

I stared at his back.

Does Caleb really hate me? Is all this kindness just him biding his time?

The next day, I went to my parents’ estate.

Mom, Dad, and my brother seemed normal.

“Bro,” I asked tentatively. “Is the company okay? Any financial trouble?”

My brother’s face changed for a split second before he scoffed. “We’re flourishing. Don’t jinx us.”

“We had a small cash flow issue a while back, but it’s resolved,” my mom added. “Just focus on your life with Caleb.”

My heart sank.

They were hiding it. They’ve always spoiled me. They told me I was born to enjoy life, not worry about money.

At noon, Caleb texted.

Caleb: No menu today? What do you want for dinner?

I replied: I’ll eat out.

That evening, Caleb came home and handed me a file.

It was Emily Clarke’s termination paperwork.

“I really didn’t know. Since you’re unhappy, I fired her. I gave her three months’ severance.”

[No way! Did he actually fire the Heroine?]

[The villainess doesn’t know, but the leads met at the coffee shop downstairs today! Fate is unstoppable!]

[Whatever. He’s just tolerating her for now. He’ll realize Emily’s worth soon.]

Reading the comments, I felt defeated. I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

“I overreacted yesterday. Sorry.”

Caleb didn’t look happy. He studied me closely.

“Really? No tantrum?”

“Sloane, is something going on?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

3

Since I couldn’t stop Caleb and Emily from falling in love, I decided to minimize the damage.

Maybe if I wasn’t such a witch, Caleb would help my family when we went broke.

I started liquidating my assets.

I returned all the bags, dresses, and jewelry I had just ordered.

It hurt. That limited-edition blue mermaid dress took months to secure.

After college, I opened a high-end piano studio. I barely managed it, letting hired staff run the show while I shopped and went to concerts.

Now, I sat in the studio, staring at the ledgers.

Headache. I didn’t understand any of it.

Caleb messaged again about dinner.

I replied: I sent the menu to the housekeeper. She’ll cook.

The “typing” bubble appeared for a long time.

Caleb: Is my cooking bad lately?

Caleb: Tell me what to fix.

My head throbbed harder.

Me: No. You work hard. You should rest.

Another long pause.

Caleb: I told you, I’m not tired.

I didn’t reply.

When I got home, there were three cookbooks on the coffee table.

Me: ?

Before bed, Caleb gave me a goodnight kiss.

This was a rule I made on our wedding night. He had followed it religiously for two years.

The annoying text floated by:

[Ew, gross. When does the villainess die?]

[Stop kissing her, Caleb!]

I turned my head away. Caleb paused.

He gripped my chin gently but firmly, turning my face back, and kissed me anyway.

He wasn’t as gentle as usual.

I cursed at him.

He kissed my forehead softly. “Sorry.”

But he didn’t stop.

4

On Caleb’s mother’s birthday, I tactfully didn’t mention going.

I just had my assistant send a gift.

The comments were buzzing.

[This is it! The birthday scene! This is where he falls for the Heroine!]

[Emily lives next door to Caleb’s mom. She’s going over to celebrate!]

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Caleb called me. I had just drifted off to sleep.

“Are you busy this afternoon?”

I suppressed my usual wake-up rage. “Mmhmm.”

Silence. “Okay.”

By late afternoon, I couldn’t help it. I drove to his mom’s modest apartment complex.

At 6 PM, I saw Caleb and Emily walking out of the gate together.

Just like the comments said.

Emily was holding a birthday cake box.

Tears pricked my eyes.

I don’t get it. Why am I the villain?

Aside from forcing him to marry me when he was vulnerable… I haven’t done anything evil.

Okay, I’m bossy. I have a bad temper. I’m spoiled.

But Caleb never complained.

Was his patience all an act? Was he just enduring the humiliation until he could destroy my family?

If I ask for a divorce now, will he still crush us?

5

Caleb’s mom, Mrs. Vance, was our housekeeper for as long as I can remember.

She was a single mom. My parents let her bring Caleb to live in the carriage house on our estate.

The first time I saw him, he was skinny and tan.

On my eighth birthday, I had a huge party. I was wearing a princess dress, surrounded by friends.

I went to the bathroom and heard Mrs. Vance in the utility room.

“I’m sorry, baby. I was too busy. I didn’t bake your cake.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I know you work hard.”

After using the bathroom, I cut a huge slice of my tiered cake and brought it to the utility room.

Caleb looked at the cake, then at me. “I don’t need your pity.”

I blinked. “I’m not pitying you. I’m wishing you a happy birthday.”

He froze. “Thanks.”

“We have the same birthday,” I beamed. “We’re fated.”

He smiled then—a rare, genuine smile. “Happy birthday.”

I don’t remember when I started liking him.

We didn’t interact much. Just exchanged birthday wishes once a year.

Maybe it was when he hit puberty and suddenly got hot. I am shallow, after all.

Or maybe it was when we were twelve. An earthquake hit while we were in the basement wine cellar.

We were trapped for hours.

He kept talking to me, keeping me awake.

He gave me a single piece of chocolate from his pocket.

“I can’t take it,” I said.

“Take it,” he insisted. “You gave me this chocolate originally.”

My brother had brought it back from Europe. I had given a box to Caleb.

“Because I gave it to you, you’re giving it back?”

“No,” he said in the dark. “Even if someone else gave it to me, I’d give it to you.”

“Why?”

“I… don’t want you to die.”

“Idiot,” I whispered weakly. “We can split it.”

It was a tiny piece of chocolate, but we survived.

6

Caleb grew up to be brilliant.

Even in faded jeans, he stood out. He was always top of the class.

In junior year, I confessed to him.

He rejected me. “I need to focus on my studies.”

I cried my eyes out. I was rich, beautiful, and kind(ish). We were perfect!

After high school graduation, I tried again.

“Exams are over. Will you date me now?”

He looked at me with a complex, deep gaze.

“No. I don’t like you.”

I was furious. I swore I’d move on.

For four years of college, I tried dating other guys. But none of them were Caleb.

My friends called me pathetic.

When I was twenty-two, my mom told me Mrs. Vance quit.

Trouble at home. Caleb’s deadbeat dad had returned after fifteen years, bringing a massive gambling debt. The loan sharks had taken Mrs. Vance.

I found Caleb. I put on my haughtiest pose.

“I’ll pay the debt. But you have to marry me.”

I would have paid it anyway.

But to my shock, he nodded.

So we got married.

After the wedding, Caleb treated me like a queen. He was patient with my jealousy and my tantrums.

I thought we’d grow old together.

Until the floating text appeared.