Everyone at the mansion treated me like I was invisible—just the quiet girl who cleaned their floors and served their tea. But when the richest man in the city walked into that ballroom with me on his arm, introducing me as his wife, their jaws dropped to the floor.
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I still remember the first time I walked through those massive golden gates. The Wellington mansion stood before me like something out of a fairy tale, with its towering columns and perfectly manicured gardens. I was 23, fresh out of college with a degree I couldn’t afford to use, and desperately needed work. The job posting was simple: live-in housekeeper for a wealthy family, good pay, room and board included. It seemed like a…..Read Full Story Here………………….
