A Housekeeper's Daughter Stole My Daughter's Identity

I nearly crushed my phone in my hand.

Me? A housekeeper?

Someone had dared to replace both me and my daughter!

Furious, I let out a bitter laugh and immediately booked a flight back to America.

I needed to see for myself—what the hell had happened to my home?

By six in the evening, I stepped out of the airport, with a suitcase in hand.

Let’s see just who this so-called “President Wilson” was.

When I arrived at the company, everyone stared at me in shock.

“President Wilson... why are you back so suddenly?”

They all knew the truth—the real power behind Wilson Holdings wasn’t Bennett, no matter how commanding he pretended to be.

It was me—the iron-blooded woman who had built the company from the ground up.

No one dared forget that.

“Darling, what brings you back so suddenly?” Bennett rushed over, his expression full of guilt.

It looked like he had just come from somewhere in a hurry. His usual polished appearance was off—his shirt was wrinkled, and he reeked of discomfort.

I smiled sweetly and reached up to straighten his collar, pretending not to see the faint red lipstick stain on it.

“New perfume?” I asked, my tone laced with irony.

Panic flickered in his eyes. Ralph Lauren's latest fragrance—it was the top-selling women's scent this season.

He chuckled awkwardly. “It’s our daughter. She’s grown up and cares about how she looks now. Dropped her perfume on her way out and it spilled all over me. That girl’s been so spoiled.”

He smiled dotingly, putting on the act of a devoted father.

“Oh really?” I gave a mocking laugh as I casually scrolled through Demi's social media page.

Every single piece of limited-edition jewelry I had bought for my daughter overseas—she was wearing all of them.

“Bennett,” I said coldly, “would you care to explain how the things I personally picked out for our daughter ended up on Emma's granddaughter instead?”

“Don’t bother telling me it’s a coincidence. Every one of those pieces is one-of-a-kind.”

The sarcasm in my voice cut like a blade.

My assistant had just confirmed the girl’s identity—Emma's granddaughter, Demi.

What a good job Emma had done raising her. No wonder everyone just assumed she was the Wilson family heiress.

When I showed Bennett the photos, panic returned to his eyes—but he quickly forced calm over his expression and spoke disapprovingly, as if I were overreacting.

“Well, Emma is getting older and has trouble with housework. Demi came to help out. She and Frances hit it off—they’re like sisters. They’ve been living and eating together these past two years.”

“Sharing between girls is normal, isn’t it?”

I let out a cold, mirthless laugh.

Normal?

Just then, his phone rang. He stepped aside to answer, and as the call ended, his face turned pale.

He looked at me with disbelief in his eyes.

“You froze my bank cards?”

I stared him down, hiding my true thoughts behind a calm expression.

“Bennett, where exactly did my daughter’s tuition money go?”

“She’s the one who didn’t want to study! She was constantly breaking school rules. If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself!”

“I will,” I said, turning to leave. “And I’ll get to the bottom of all of it.”

I knew my daughter better than anyone else. Her character, her dreams, her determination.

When she was little, she’d begged me to sign her up for piano, dance, painting—she said those were musts for a princess.

Now, in her final year of high school, she was just steps away from getting into the university of her dreams.