قصص وروايات قصيرة عن Feel-Good Story وتضم Nanny وتدور في Face Slapping

The daughter of our housekeeper was pretending to be a rich girl at college, handing out my designer stuff just to keep up the act. When I called her out, she actually had the nerve to say she was "redistributing wealth to help the less fortunate." I called the cops, but then she spread this wild rumor that I made her sleep with me for three years, and that she was using my luxury items to help me "atone for my sin." Then she and her boyfriend teamed up to try and have me killed. Next thing I know, I woke up and it was the exact same day she started her whole rich-girl act.

25 years ago, a maternity nurse secretly switched me out for her daughter. Unfortunately for her, my six-year-old brother saw this and secretly switched me back. 25 years later, the maternity nurse comes knocking with her actual daughter by her side. She accuses me, the heiress of Crawford Group, of being an impostor. The company's janitor starts insulting me and insinuates that my lipstick is a cheap imitation. Even my boyfriend humiliates me with her. "And here I thought you were the heiress of the Crawford family. You can't even compare to a hair on Pammy's head!" When the DNA test results are out, everyone is stunned. "That wretch bewitched me, Lori! Please forgive me—give me another chance!" my boyfriend cries. I look at him icily. "Another chance to do what? To clean the toilets?"

The nanny, Polly Jackson, pushes me down the stairs when I'm seven months pregnant. I suffer from major blood loss and go into premature labor. Before I can question her about it, Zachary Campbell brushes me off with a lame excuse. "Polly didn't mean it. You and the baby are fine, so don't be so petty about this." I get out of bed to move around. I'm at the bathroom door when I hear Zachary and Polly's conversation. "Are you sure that wretch can stay alive, Zachary? Switching it out won't be that easy if it dies." "Don't worry about whether Daisy Jameson's baby can live, Mom. Either way, mine and Danielle's child will be the Campbell family's sole heir." I pretend I've never heard this and raise my son for 18 years. During a banquet held in honor of a share ownership transfer, Polly suddenly shows up with my mentally impaired daughter. She cries, "Mason is my grandson! It's high time he's returned to his rightful place after being raised by the wrong family for so long!" I'm unfazed. I even laugh at her words. "Fine, then!"

The male housekeeper turned our entire home upside down. Every woman in the house—my mother, my sister—fell completely under his spell. They gave him everything, even the business my dad had built from the ground up. The betrayal went deeper. My own girlfriend turned on me, stabbing me in the back to win his favor. Their schemes finally went too far. They arranged a "car accident" that took my dad's life and mine. But fate had other plans. We were reborn.

After blowing through 15 million, which was my wedding gift from the Masons, I turned myself in for marriage fraud. That was when the housekeeper's daughter, Hannah Castillo, panicked. On May 5th, Castillo Enterprise and Mason Group were set to unite through marriage. I was meant to be the bride, but instead, I was locked away in a dark storage room. By the time I fought my way to the ceremony, Hannah had already finished the wedding using my identity. I went onstage and said I was the Castillos' real daughter, only to be questioned by everyone in the company. The reason was simple: Hannah had been using my name and status openly inside the company for the past six months. Hannah kicked me to the ground and sneered, "You're the housekeeper's kid! How dare you make a scene!" Before I could pull out any proof, the bodyguards Hannah hired dragged me out and dumped me on the road. A car ran into me, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before the wedding.

The day I got back from a trip, my housekeeper filed a lawsuit against my father and me. In court, she stood with her visibly pregnant belly, her voice shaking with anguish. "Jethro Roberts and his son are nothing but monsters. They tricked me into moving into their home under the excuse of offering me a job as a housekeeper. They tied me to a bed and abused me. "The baby I am carrying belongs to Jethro Roberts." Her mother wept hard, nearly collapsing from the strain. "These two monsters destroyed my daughter's life! They should pay with their lives." As soon as she spoke, the courtroom burst into an uproar. "Shameless criminals! The dad couldn't even be bothered to appear in court. They must be punished severely!" "That's right. Look at the son. He's actually smiling. He has no conscience! They both deserve to pay for what they did." Then, I calmly stepped forward and presented my evidence. A stunned silence swept through the courtroom.

I’m the princess of the Moretti family, the Chicago Outfit. But all I ever cared about was sculpting. The day before Thanksgiving, my car died on me. I had to drive home in some beat-up, mud-caked Jeep. The second I walked into the penthouse, some strange woman shoved a pile of silver polish into my arms. She jutted her chin at me. “Get these polished before the dinner party,” she sneered. I looked at her. She was wearing my late mother’s favorite silk robe. This is my house. Who the hell was this woman? And who was supposed to polish this junk? Me? The only princess of the Moretti family? I pulled out my phone. Opened the family's encrypted app. I sent a message to my father, Vincenzo. “Your new pet wants me to polish the silver.”

I woke up at midnight to find my husband out of bed. I called his number, but there was no answer. I searched everywhere and realized he wasn't around. The young nanny had disappeared as well. I barely reached the garage when I heard muffled wanton noises inside. I stormed over, trying to catch the infidel pair in the act. When I opened the door, my husband was standing there with a surgical kit. He was about to head out in his car. He explained, "Honey, I need to catch a flight to Silverport. A patient there needs immediate surgery. You should go to bed without me." I sighed in relief, feeling ridiculous to have doubted him. Suddenly, a few comments rolled before my eyes. "That was so close! They almost got caught! Luckily, Ava had cleverly hidden in the trunk. That bitch will find nothing once Ethan drives away." "My heart is swelling just from watching them! A stoic, genius doctor and a cheery, adorable nanny are a perfect match! Tonya stands no chance against Ava!" I glanced at the shut trunk and slid into the driver's seat with a smile, offering, "Honey, why don't I give you a ride to the airport?"

Every time the housekeeper came to cook, she brought her daughter along. I felt sorry for them — single mother, no support — so I never said a word. Until one afternoon, I pulled out the chair at the head of the table and found a note taped to the back. It read: "Freeloaders aren't allowed to eat here." I tore the note off and turned to the housekeeper. "What is this supposed to mean?" The girl shot me a look of pure contempt and let out a cold laugh. "You're just a maid. You sponge off other people's homes day after day — how are you not ashamed? If you can't afford food, go beg on the street. People like you, mooching off everyone, make me sick." I stared at her, completely thrown. The housekeeper rushed over and lowered her voice. "Ms. Wolfe, my daughter doesn't know I'm the maid here. She saw how hard I work and felt sorry for me — that's why she put up the note." "And she has serious germophobia. She can't stand eating with strangers. Wait outside until she's done eating. Don't come back in." Before I could answer, she shoved me out the front door. The door slammed shut behind me with a final bang. I stood there on the steps and calmly dialed the police. "Hello. There's been a break-in at my home. Someone's locked me out. I need an officer here now."

My mom, Martha Sanders, works as a housekeeper for my girlfriend's family. On the day we make our relationship official, my girlfriend, Yara Quinn, takes me home to meet her family. My mom brought out a plate of steamed jumbo shrimp. But Yara's mother, Wendy Slade, slams the table and jabs a finger at my mom's forehead. She yells, "You ungrateful leech! The second your son shows up, you start serving him the good stuff. How shameless can you be, you bitch?" I start to stand up to stop Wendy, but Yara kicks me under the table. She speaks before I can. "Just let it go. Don't upset my mom." Then she orders my mom, "Martha, give the shrimp to Lucky." Lucky is their family dog. I stare at the face I thought I knew and hear the coldness in her voice. Suddenly, I feel like everything we have isn't as important as I thought.

I worked as the Shaw family's all-around housekeeper for 10 years, earning a monthly salary of $50,000. The very first thing Arthur Shaw's fiancée did after joining the family was make an example out of me. "A housekeeper making $50,000 a month? Who do you think you are? Did you brainwash the Shaws or something? "Starting today, your salary is being cut to $3,000. Your only job is cleaning. You won't be responsible for anything else." The Shaws stayed silent and let her humiliate me. I didn't make even a peep of protest as I smiled and signed the pay-cut agreement. A few days later, the entire Shaw family descended into chaos. Arthur's mother, Audrey Chase, was no longer receiving my nightly aromatherapy sessions. So, her migraine flared up, and she ended up smashing up the living room. Arthur's father, Frederick Shaw, no longer had the medicinal meals I prepared. So, his gout flared up, sending him straight to the emergency room. Arthur's international video conference fell apart without me providing simultaneous interpretation, costing the company projects worth hundreds of millions of dollars. His fiancée pointed at me in frustration. "Why did you stop taking care of everyone?" I waved the agreement in my hand. "A $3,000-a-month housekeeper clocks out as soon as the floors are clean."

For five years, Julian and I had been a secret. We had our own hidden apartment where, night after night, he could not get enough of me, leaving his insanely possessive marks all over my body. Tonight was no different. But the difference today was that before I could even catch my breath, he suddenly asked for the number of Essa, my family's gorgeous maid. "Darling, don't you think it is too boring to stick to just one woman for the rest of your life?" "She has a killer body. I do not want to give up all the thrills out there just for you." I stared into his eyes for a few seconds, then pushed his hand off my chest. I gave a calm nod. Later, when someone asked me who I was into, I casually dropped the name of my sworn enemy: Kian, the heir to the Santoro family. Julian's face instantly darkened, but I could not care less. However, I ended up bringing unexpected trouble to my doorstep. Kian blocked my doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he asked, "Didn't you say you were into me?" "What a coincidence. I am into you, too."

I let my housekeeper’s son, Blake Livingston, stay at my house. Instead, he went to school and stole my identity, pretending to be me. One afternoon, our housekeeper, Fanny Livingston, brought food to school. When I reached for one of the containers, Blake said sarcastically, "Finn, this is the food my family’s housekeeper made for me. I may treat you like a brother, but that doesn’t mean you can just help yourself." Listening to our classmates whisper about me, I knew that in my previous life, I would have simply walked away. I wouldn’t even have bothered explaining myself. Unfortunately for him, I’d been reborn. Right in front of everyone, I dumped his lunch over his head. "You stay in my house for a few days, and suddenly you think you’re some rich kid? And your family has a housekeeper? Your mom barely makes enough working as one herself. You think she can afford to hire a housekeeper?"