The Housekeeper Novels & Stories

I muttered while pulling the anklet. Suddenly the door was pushed open and I saw a woman walking inside with a trolley. “Hello,” she smiled at me like I was her guest. “Who are you?” I asked while getting up from the floor, “I’m Flora Tate,” She said while stopping in front of me, “I'm the head housekeeper of this mansion,” she added. “Oh! Nice to meet you. How can I remove this?” I asked her immediately while pointing at it, Her eyes moved to the anklet and back to me, “I don’t know, Dear,” She replied,

"And Mr Haswell. He lives here too?" "He's my husband. Of course he lives here." "So, you're not here in the role of say, a housekeeper? You say you have access to the house office?" My head's beginning to spin. "This is my home. Yes, I have access to the office. And no, there's already a housekeeper. At least…" I stumble over my words… "… there was a housekeeper." "There was a housekeeper? Where is she now?" "She was dismissed."

The light outside was fluorescent, not doing justice to the physical features of the house. The inside was all lit up, the moment we stepped inside. “Welcome sir and ma. I'm Greta, the housekeeper Mrs. Selina assigned to keep the house.” Irritation was boldly written on Ryan's face as he stared at the woman who was probably in her early fifties. He hissed, before darting inside. I saw the dismay written on the woman's face, as I moved closer to her. “Ma'am Greta, nice to meet you. Don't mind my husband. He is not a fan of housekeepers or housemaids. But I like you already.” She chuckled, as her smile brightened.

Never before has any woman affected me as she does. So I had walked out simply to prove … more to myself than to her … that I could. I never would have expected to find Sky on her hands and knees cleaning. Granted, Mrs. Barney is no spring chicken and her efforts yesterday with the parlor had been sadly lacking, but she had made the room habitable. And she is the housekeeper. It is her job to keep the house. But Sky has begun seeing to the things herself, and she had been uncomfortable with me preparing her bath.

I made my way toward the stairs, but I had barely taken a few steps when one of the housekeepers hurried toward me. "Sir?" I stopped and looked at her. Her expression was unusually worried. She was the head housekeeper and also been the one in charge of most things most of the times we were not around. "What is it?" She hesitated before speaking. "Sir, what about Madam? I hope she's fine?" My brows furrowed. "Why are you asking?" She clasped her hands together nervously, taking in a deep breath biting her lower lips. "The other day, I cleaned blood off the floor. It was quite much and it just just in one area and not splattered."

She seemed to be preparing something but she didn’t look like a maid. When the woman saw her, she offered Elena a smile and said, “Hello, Mrs. Walsh. The lunch is almost ready,” but then the woman came out of the kitchen, and gave Elena a bow. “My name is Sato and I am the head housekeeper for this house. Anything you need, please, come to me.” Elena stared at the woman as the latter straightened and smiled again before bowing a second time and making her way back towards the kitchen. Before Elena could ponder it for too long, she felt hands on her shoulders, and her whole body turned stiff.

No matter what, since heaven had given me a second chance at life, I absolutely could not allow the tragedy of my previous life to repeat itself. I returned to the bedroom and began ordering small home surveillance cameras online. In my previous life, when Megan first came to work in our home as a housekeeper, I had wanted to install cameras, but Daniel felt it would be disrespectful to someone living under our roof. Thinking back on it now, it was precisely because of our kindness that we had walked step by step into her trap.

But one thing is for sure, I can never pay Henry back for whatever he has done for me. I dragged myself to the bathroom and took a warm shower. It got rid of all the fatigue and I felt better and relaxed. After I was done cleaning up, I went to the living room. Our housekeeper, who also cooks for us, greeted me with a smile, "Good morning, Mrs. Reid." "Good morning." Even though it wasn't entirely a good one, these people made it better for me. "I heard you weren't feeling good. Are you doing alright now?" She inquired while I settled on the chair.

You know those days when you're absolutely certain you hate someone's guts? Every little thing about them drives you crazy the way they scrunch their nose at your cooking, the critical tone when they point out dust on a shelf, the cold indifference in their eyes when they walk past you like you're invisible. That's how I feel about him. Julian Blackwood. My boss. The billionaire who treats me like I'm beneath his notice unless I'm doing something wrong. And then I found out someone wanted him dead. I should have let it happen. I should have kept my mouth shut and watched the empire crumble around the man who made my life miserable. But here's the thing about hate it's dangero

“May I enter my own house now, Emelda?” The door swings open, and my housekeeper, a pretty vampire who might be thirty, or two-hundred, fades into view. Her black hair is twisted in a bun at the nape of her neck as she folds her thin arms around over her chest and follows me with ocean blue eyes as I step into the foyer and slide my bare feet into the house slippers she leaves out for me. I might be the heir to my father’s kingdom, and the owner of this house, but she is the boss.