Eight Years as His Hidden Mistress
Language: en
In the eight years my mother worked as a housekeeper for the Mercer family, I only stepped foot into their estate seven times. She always believed I hated their son, Gavin. Until the night she brought home a tote bag packed with high-end dinner leftovers. "How can a woman have so little self-respect?" my mother muttered, unpacking container after container. "The young master is getting engaged, and she's still clinging to him like a leech." She shook her head, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'll give her credit, though—she’s slippery. Mrs. Mercer has been digging for months and still hasn't…