Three Years as Her Nanny My Husband's Mistress Was My Boss

To help make ends meet, my husband found me a job as a nanny.

The woman I worked for had a terrible temper. She ordered me around like a servant, and sometimes she outright insulted me.

But the pay was good, so I swallowed it all.

Every month, I handed my entire paycheck over to my husband to support his startup.

His business was just getting off the ground. We had nothing. But he was gentle with me, and even though life was hard and money was tight, I felt happy.

Until one day, my employer's son said to me：“Why do you have a picture of my dad on your phone? Are you a homewrecker?”

The woman I'd been serving for three years was my husband's mistress.

That boy was their son.

……

I was crouched on the floor picking up trash when my employer's son shoved me hard from behind.

I pitched forward into the garbage can, filth covering my hair and clothes.

I scrambled to my feet, furious：“Vincent Harding, what are you doing?!”

He was even more aggressive than I was, his voice ice-cold：“Call me Young Master!”

That title was something Anne Swanson had insisted on.

Even though I only worked during the day and didn't live in, I was still required to address Anne as "Ma'am" and her son as "Young Master."

It made me feel like an actual servant.

But the pay kept me quiet. I endured it.

Vincent held up my phone, jabbing his finger at the photo on my lock screen：“Why do you have a picture of my dad on your phone.”

“Why are you two so close together? You're a disgusting homewrecker. Get out of my house.”

I froze for a second, then almost laughed：“Are you joking? That's my husband.”

Vincent spat at me：“Bullshit. That's my dad.”

He pulled out his tablet, fuming, and shoved the screen in my face.

I glanced at it. My whole body went still.

It was my husband. Sebastian Harding.

A photo of him having dinner with Anne.

A photo of him, Anne, and Vincent, the three of them celebrating a birthday like a family.

A photo of him and Vincent building Legos together……

The room tilted. I sank into the chair behind me.

Vincent kicked me, grinning：“Let's see what you have to say now, homewrecker.”

My mind was a wreck.

So the husband I'd loved all this time had another family?

He always said the startup kept him busy, that he had to travel all over the country for work. Half the month, every month, he was gone.

Every time he came home, I felt sorry for him, working so hard.

Even when my own body ached from cleaning and scrubbing all day, I'd rub his shoulders, cook him a full dinner.

Lately he'd been short with me, impatient over nothing. I told myself it was just work stress. I tried to be understanding.

Looking at it now, I was a joke.

He could afford a house like this. He could afford a whole second family. He'd never been short on money.

He'd never been grinding through exhausting business trips. He'd been here, living his real life in luxury.

And I, like a fool, had come here to be his mistress's maid. Cleaning her floors. Serving her hand and foot.

My heart was shattering.

No wonder I'd never once met Anne's husband.

They'd kept him away from me on purpose.

I looked up at Vincent, numb.

His last name was Harding. Sebastian's last name was Harding.

How stupid was I, that I'd never once put that together.

Now that I really looked, the resemblance was unmistakable.

My phone buzzed. A message from Anne：“You can leave early tonight. Pack up and go home now. When I get back, I want the first thing I see to be my son, not the help. Don't come in for the next week. I'll let you know when to return.”