The Housekepper Novels & Stories

However, it relates to Hunter—the one person I thought was my only solace after strenuous days with the Whites. “Heidi!” Madam Kwakye's raspy voice booms from the hallway as she approaches. In the stern housekeeper's presence, no one dares to make a sound for fear of facing her wrath; often in the form of harsh words or, worse yet, a flying hot pan across the face. She won’t catch me sitting here looking devastated. That’d only be more problematic. And no one wants problems now, do they? As I quickly stand and reach for the door, it flies open, nearly knocking me out if pounds of flesh hadn’t come between us.

It was the sweet aroma wafting from the kitchen that acted as a beacon. I stepped into the kitchen and couldn't hold in my shocked gasps. This kitchen is something from a TV show. It's the kind of kitchen where you watch chefs do their culinary show. It's big and grand. Someone coughs from my left and my eyes whirl to the man Ronan had introduced as the housekeeper earlier. I think his name is Adam. “Hi! ” He said smiling at me from where he was bent over a pot on the cooker stirring what smelled like roast.

It was all perfe‌c‍t, and i‍t m⁠ade her⁠ skin cra‍wl. "Your belongi⁠ngs have been placed‌ in the closet and th‍e sitting room," Kaelan s‌aid fr⁠o‍m t⁠he doorway, not enter‌ing her space. "The k‍itchen is stocked. My‌ housekeeper, Mrs. Higgins, comes on Tuesdays and Fridays. Y‍ou'll find the Wi-Fi password‍ and other rele‍v‌ant d‌etails on the tab‌let on the desk." He was reciting a ma‍nual.

Burnt cheese. Thick. Smoky. Like someone had set fire to a dairy factory. “Oh my God.” My stomach dropped. “Shelly?” Panic shot through me. Shelly was our housekeeper and our chef and basically the only adult in this house who didn’t set something on fire. If something happened to her— I rushed toward the kitchen, ready to drag her out of danger, only to skid to a stop at the doorway. Aaron stood there. Aaron. Fanning smoke away from the gas stove with a chopping board.

HOUSEKEEPER (reluctantly) He doesn’t like it too sweet. Just a little sugar. That’s how he takes it. IMANI (nodding quickly) I remember. Don’t worry. With a last look, the housekeeper set the spoon down and hurried out of the kitchen, leaving Imani standing alone by the counter. As soon as the footsteps faded, Imani moved fast—opening a slim side pocket of her robe and retrieving a tiny foil packet. Her fingers trembled as she tore it open. Inside sat a small, chalk-white pill. No label. No markings.

"She won't be done 'til morning. Jobs are hard to come by these days—she's too scared to step out of line." With that, Mr. Gabelman started tearing at Madison's clothes. "Don't you want to know what it feels like doing it in someone else's home?" Mr. Gabelman's bloated body looked absolutely repulsive on camera. They went from the living room to the master bedroom—didn't even separate to shower. I nearly threw up watching it.

PREVIEW Chapter 1: The House That Raised Us The sun caught the edges of the grand staircase, turning dust motes into slow arcs of suspended light. Arlo’s hands moved over the polished marble with meticulous care. Each stroke of the cloth was precise, deliberate because in this house, a mistake was more than a slip. It was a reminder of where he stood: the servant’s son, the invisible shadow in a world that belonged to others. He had learned early that the house’s rules extended beyond what was spoken. Every footstep, every glance, every breath had a place and a time. He pressed his palms harder against the rail, watching his reflection ripple in the shine.

Only frigid ice remained. My name was Vedran Clarus, or rather, I just finally remembered that my name was Vedran Grant, the sole heir of the Grant family. After treating my wound, I stepped out of the bathroom. Eira Jones stood on the second-floor corridor while looking down on me. She still protectively clutched Reed Harris in her arms. His expression was twisted with hurt. “Hey, Vedran, if you’re not dead, stop playing dead!” Her voice dripped with disgust.

The act was complete, or so she thought. With his brows furrowed, the inspector said, ‘You know Jyoti, even the most poisonous cobra should be wary of the honey badger.’ He asked her to leave with an imperious wave. The glow in her eyes disappeared instantly, she turned and left the room. ‘She lied to us all the way,’ the inspector said irritably. ‘What makes you think that?’ Rishabh inquired. ‘Experience, my friend. No superstar, however big a heart they have, gifts a flat to a housekeeper.’

"What family secrets would you like to know, Miss Smith?" Keisha beat her teeth down and glared at Grace who had on the most innocent smile on her face. With a smile that was definitely forced, Keisha turned around slowly to face the housekeeper, Mrs Patterson. She was a gigantic woman with blonde tresses that were constantly tied in an impeccable bun; something they were all required to do. It had dawned on Keisha from the first day she had set her eyes on the housekeeper, that she was definitely a perfectionist and it was no use to attempt to match her knack for perfecting everything she laid her hands on.