Maid’s Daughter Novels & Stories

If only I could enjoy it, immerse myself in it, rather than wonder how the hell to get Winston on our side. Suddenly, I caught sight of a young maid hurrying through the kitchen with a small bundle in her arms. It took me a moment to realize it was a baby, but the girl couldn’t have been older than eighteen. Curiosity got the better of me, and I called out to her as she passed by. “Excuse me,” I said, “is that your baby?” The maid paused, looking startled. “Oh, no. This is Alpha Winston’s daughter, Estella.”

Amber hesitated - unsure if the question demanded a reply or was simply a grumble to herself. "A girl," she answered softly. The woman's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Smart mouth," she sneered. "Too bad that'll be humbled here." Amber frowned, puzzled by the bitterness, but said nothing more. The woman stepped aside and opened the door wide. Amber noticed a packed box standing just inside, an unspoken farewell to the role about to be passed on. "I'm Cressida," the woman said flatly, "ex-maid as of today." Amber blinked. "Wait, you lived here?"

but Aubrey remained silent, her gaze fixed on the ground. "You didn't listen to your mother. Apologize to my wife," Mrs. Davis demanded. Aubrey raised her eyes, met Davis's gaze, and stammered, "I-I-I am..." Interrupting her, Evan's voice resonated through the room. "My wife will not apologize to anyone," he declared, surprising everyone, including Mrs. Jane, who looked at Evan in disbelief. "Your wife?" Mr. Davis questioned, shocked. "Yes, both you and your mistress were berating my wife," Evan affirmed. "So, you married a maid," Mr. Davis sneered. Evan laughed and responded, "She is not a maid. She chooses to work because she enjoys it. Besides, you can marry any random woman off the stre

“Do not worry, Aunt. I will make sure she is placed where she belongs. Cain must pay. All his loved ones will pay for the lives he took. Ares must be avenged.” Ava allowed herself a satisfied smile. With Midas on her side, her plan was falling into place. Then Midas called a woman standing nearby, dressed like one of the servants. “This is the one,” Midas announced, tone low. “She is called Maera. She is older than most remember and answers to no house. She can break bonds other women cannot touch.” Wilma’s lips curled into a hard smile.

Murmurs rippled through the hall: “Precisely. A rogue’s bastard daughter—what is she doing here?” Mason’s grandmother regarded me with disdain. “Evelyn, you were a rogue Mason took in. We extended our hospitality out of kindness, but henceforth, you are merely a maid—your duty is to clean.” “And that little girl? She is simply an orphan we took in. If you do not accept these terms, then depart.” “I am not an orphan! I am not!” My daughter cried, her small voice trembling. She could not understand why everyone held her in such hate…

Because this is a lie and I refuse to go through with it. "Uh, no. I'm not. There's a burger joint down the road that has a help wanted sign," I state. Well, I don't know that for sure, but I'm sure I can find a McD's that needs someone to flip burgers somewhere other than here. "Oh, no. That won't do at all. You see, my daughter wants you. Hell knows why. But she insists you are her new maid, and being the gracious mother I am, I'm giving you to her," she explains.

one of them asked, before throwing a bag at me that I didn't bother to catch, so it landed ungracefully on the floor and Se stretched like her dog had just died. “How dare you lowly maid--” she yelled, storming towards me in her pretty hot pink boots and attempting to hit me but her form was weak and she barely had any strength, accompanying that hit so I was able to easily catch her hand midair and just stared at her with a uninterested and bored look. “Are you seeing this Reya?” she turned around t see Reya just looking at us with a slight frown. “She's not a maid Cassidy.* she sighed, rubbing her temples. “She's the adopted daughter of my father.”

Of course she does, I muttered to myself as we exited the car. The front door opened , and two maids ushered us in. The interior was breathtaking, from the floors, to the walls, everything screamed luxury . I knew I didn't belong here the second my eye saw the chandelier. An elegant lady descended the staircase in a gracious, straight-backed, polite yet formal expression of her face. "Ryan," she said sweetly, a wide smile on her face . Ryan's smile widened. "Mom, this is Sophie, and this is Claire Lawson, her mom. Claire, Sophie, this is my mother, Margaret, Margaret Hale.”

Maybe she only ate what served a purpose. Steak, then. I made a mental note to ensure it was served again. The camera switched automatically as she moved into the hallway. She slowed slightly, head turning just enough to scan her surroundings. Not wandering. Assessing. I leaned forward, phone closer now. She looked… lost. Or rather, she was pretending to be. The difference mattered. She paused near an intersection of corridors, then continued until she spotted a maid. She approached her calmly. Said something I couldn’t hear. The maid nodded and pointed down the hall.

I ask. “The Goddess. Some of us are born to serve. Some of us are born to lead.” She replies. “We were born to serve. If not our alpha and King— our mate!” “I will serve no one.” I say through gritted teeth. The meat and cheese rolls are now sitting like bricks in my belly. “Be careful, Ceres. Someone may hear that and think you are treasonous.” She cautions. “I met a girl some time ago. She is the Lady’s maid for Madame Perimeade Zhadnost. Belle is her name I think? Her mother belongs to your house.” I say to shift the conversation.