The Billionaire’s Daughter They Treated Like A Maid

Days before Christmas, I quietly wired fifty thousand dollars to my daughter, Liv, who was pregnant and living far away. I told her to take a solo trip, clear her head, and enjoy the peace.

Liv sounded grateful and promised to go.

It wasn't until a few days later that my old college friend, Sandy Miller, sent me a message.

Sandy had recently moved to Liv's city for retirement. Just last month, shed mentioned meeting a particularly boastful woman at her community center fitness class.

The womans name was Joyce. She constantly bragged that her son had married a wealthy city girl whose family was so loaded, theyd practically paid for the marriage.

Id dismissed it as harmless chatter.

Now, Sandy's text popped up: Cate, didnt you say your son-in-law's last name was Cole?

Following that were several screenshots.

They showed a grid of selfies taken by Joyce on a tropical beach, palms swaying in the background. The caption was a slap in the face:

My darling son took the whole family to the Caribbean for the holidays! My amazing daughter-in-law was sweet enough to stay home to watch the house so we could relax!

#FamilyFirst #Blessed

I stared at the screen and booked the soonest available flight.

Some answers you cant get over the phone. I had to see for myself the life my daughter was truly living.

The silence in the apartment was unnerving when I unlocked the front door.

A haphazard pile of shoes lay scattered by the entrance: men's running shoes, chunky walking sneakers, a child's brightly colored Crocs...

But the pair of faded beige flats my daughter always wore was missing.

I dragged my suitcase over the pile, and the scene in the living room made me freeze.

The sofa was buried under a heap of garish kids' toys. Dirty clothes were strewn across the area rug. On the dining table, unwashed plates and silverware sat beside congealed grease on leftover takeout containers.

Liv? I called out.

No answer.

I dropped my bag and walked toward the master bedroom. The door was ajar. Pushing it open, I was hit by a complex stench: stale air, unwashed fabric, and the faint, sour smell of old food.

A frumpy, floral housecoat belonging to the mother-in-law was thrown on the pillow. On the nightstand sat Ryan Cole's smartwatch charger.

The delicate jewelry box Id painstakingly picked out for Liv was gone from the vanity, replaced by a stack of prescription bottles and an open bag of sunflower seeds.

I backed out and opened the door to the spare room. Cartoon stickers covered the walls, and a childs play mat was on the floor. A queen bed was piled high with strangers clothesclearly a young couples.

Finally, I opened the door to what used to be Livs office.

In the cramped ten-by-ten space, Liv's laptop sat on a folding table, surrounded by her professional textbooks. Her packed suitcase stood unopened in the corner, draped with a few of her familiar, wash-faded sleep shirts.

A small pull-out sofa was covered in an old, faded sheetthe same one shed used in her college dorm room.

My breath started to come heavy and fast.

I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. It rang for an agonizingly long time before she picked up.

Mom? Livs voice was strained and low, the background noise a muffled cacophony.

Where are you? I heard the tension in my own voice.

Oh, Mom, I... Im just out! The scenery here is gorgeous

Her tone was instantly panicked: Mom, why did you call so suddenly?

Liv, I looked at the offending floral housecoat tossed on the master bed. My voice was eerily flat. Tell me the truth. Did you ever go on that trip?

Silence hung on the line for two seconds, broken only by the background sound. I heard what sounded like an announcement, but it was too unclear to make out the words.

Mom, I... Im just taking a walk nearby. Going on a solo trip felt lonely and exhausting, so I thought... Id just stay close to home.

Her words rushed out: Ill be back soon. Just sit down, Mom, Ill just

Just then, a clear, automated female voice cut through the background noise:

Dr. Rodriguez, Physical Therapy, report to Exam Room Three. Dr. Rodriguez

Physical Therapy?

Liv, the hand gripping my phone started to shake. Where exactly are you?

Mom, Im Her voice started to tremble.

In the background, a loud, gruff voice yelled: Family of Bed Three! Get some hot water! Wheres the aide?

My brain went numb. All the blood in my body seemed to rush to my head.

The hospital? My voice was a choked whisper. Are you at the hospital? What happened? Are you okay?

By the time I rushed into St. Judes Regional Medical Center, the elevator was just ascending. I couldnt wait. I turned and took the stairs, two at a time.

The seventh-floor hallway reeked of disinfectant. Doors were open, giving me glimpses of various patients lying in their beds.

Outside Room 704, Liv had her back to the hall, bent over, sorting something by the bed. She wore a faded gray sweater and was carefully holding a plastic urinal.

I walked up quietly. She didn't hear me.

Lying in the bed was Ryans father, George Cole. Three months ago, when Ryan called to say his dad had a stroke and was paralyzed, Id wired him the fifty thousand dollars, explicitly for a home health aide.

Now the old man lay with tubes in his nose, eyes closed. Liv was gently wiping his arm with a damp washcloth.

The woman in the adjacent bed saw me first. She paused: Are you?

Liv spun around. The washcloth slipped from her hand and splashed into the basin.

Mom Her face instantly went white.

I didn't answer her. I just nodded to the woman: Im her mother.

Oh, thank God youre here! the woman exclaimed, standing up. You need to talk to your daughter! Shes pregnant, and shes here every single day, scrubbing, changing him, helping him use the bathroomday and night! We all feel terrible for her!

I looked at Liv. Where is their family?

Liv kept her head down.

The neighbor woman jumped in: Ive only seen two of them twice! One old woman, the mother, she just sits in the chair and barks orders at your daughter. And one man, the son, he stood here for less than ten minutes and said he had to leave for work. We thought they were distant relatives just visiting!

A knot of ice formed in my chest. I grabbed Livs arm and pulled her into the hall.

Look at me, I said. Where is the fifty thousand dollars I gave you? You said you were taking a trip. Did you take a trip to the hospital?

My mother-in-law said that flying while pregnant was too dangerous. She said we could go as a family after the baby was born. Liv sniffled. She said shed worked hard all year and deserved a break, so she just took... took the whole family.

What about the money for the health aide? I pressed, my voice low and dangerous. The extra money I send every month was for professional help!

Liv's voice was a mere whisper: She said a stranger wouldnt do a good job, and it was a waste of money. She kept the money, for now, to save for the babys college fund

My hands were shaking with rage. So you came yourself? Youre four months pregnant, Liv! Youre here holding a bedpan for a man who isnt your father!

I gripped her shoulders. My sweet, stupid girl! Does Ryan know about this?

She silently nodded.

Just then, her phone rang. The screen flashed the name: Joyce.

She tried to hit the ignore button, but I snatched the phone and hit speaker.

Liv! Where the hell are you? A sharp, grating voice exploded from the speaker. We made it to the duty-free shop! Hurry up and transfer another twenty thousand! What good is that little bit of money your mother gave you? Its not even enough for a decent designer bag!

Joyce was still talking: And listen up! The house needs to be immaculate by noon tomorrow! The floors need three passes, and the windows need to be sparkling! Well be home at twelve sharp, and dinner needs to be on the table! Seven dishes and one soup, nothing less! If you dare to slack off again

I slammed the hang-up button.

Walking out of the hospital building, the cold winter air hit us. Liv shivered. I opened the car door. Get in.

The drive was silent. Liv leaned against the passenger window, staring out.

While stopped at a red light, I noticed her left hand resting gently on her belly.

How have you been spending the past few months? I broke the silence. Tell me everything.

She was quiet for a long time.

Seven in the morning, I go to the hospital. Come back for a quick lunch, then go back in the afternoon.

Her voice was flat, as if describing someone elses routine.

I get home around eight or nine at night, clean the house. Ryans brothers family is also staying here. Joyce said they were moving in to help me when the baby comes.

The light turned green. I pressed the accelerator, my grip on the steering wheel tight.

What does Ryan say? I asked. Does he just watch his mother treat you like this?

Liv didn't answer.

It wasnt until Id pulled into the buildings underground garage that she spoke, her voice small: He said... to just hold on. He said it would get better after the baby came.

I turned off the engine but didn't move to get out.

Liv, I turned to face her. Look at me.

She slowly turned her face. Her eyes were red and swollen.

You married him, not his entire family, I said, each word distinct. You are pregnant. This is the time you are supposed to be cared for. Instead, they take your money and turn you into a free health aide and maid. Does that sound normal to you?

You are my only daughter, my darling girl. When have you ever had to suffer such indignity?

Her tears finally came. Her shoulders began to shake.

Mom Im sorry, she sobbed. I shouldnt have hidden it from you I was just afraid youd be angry, afraid youd be disappointed in me

I reached over and pulled her into my arms. She cried hard against my shoulder, her whole body convulsing.

Oh, sweetheart. I rubbed her back. How could I ever be disappointed in you? Im heartbroken for you.

When her sobs subsided, I let go and wiped her tears away.

Come on, lets go home.

Inside, I didn't turn on the lights. I walked straight into the master bedroom. Joyces clothes were still piled on the bed, and Ryans clutter was on the vanity.

I pulled open the closet, which was crammed with things that didnt belong to Liv. I grabbed a large plastic garbage bag and began tossing everything inside: the floral housecoat, mens sleepwear, piles of socks and underwear. I dumped the full bag into the bathroom.

Liv stood at the door, staring. Mom, what are you doing

I took her by the hand and led her into the master bedroom, making her sit on the edge of the bed.

You are sleeping here tonight. You will rest. Dont think about anything.

But the Coles are coming back tomorrow

Well worry about tomorrow, tomorrow, I cut her off. Tonight, you just sleep.

The rest is up to me.

The next day, it was four-thirty in the afternoon when I placed the last bowl on the dining table.

There was only one meal and one drink .

A burger meal and a simple vanilla milk shake. A stark, aggressive simplicity.

Liv came out of the kitchen, holding a dust rag, looking anxiously at the table: Mom, is is this okay? Joyce is going to

Go to the office and stay there, I took the rag from her hand. No matter what you hear, dont come out.

But

Listen to me.

I ushered her into the small office, closed the door, and locked it.

Then I walked into the master bedroom and locked that door behind me.

Time crawled by.

At twelve-ten, the sound of keys turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. Then came a cacophony of voices, the rattle of luggage wheels, and a child's shrieking.

Im exhausted! That horrible flight made my back ache! That was Joyces loud voice.

Mom, slow down, A young mans voice, probably Ryans brother, Mark.

Liv! Where the hell is Liv? Get out here and grab the bags! Joyce yelled.

Footsteps stopped in the living room.

Then, Ryans sister-in-law, Jessica, shrieked: Mom! Look at the table!

A moment of silence.

Then, Joyces voice spiked: Liv! Get your sorry butt out here!

The office door opened. I heard Liv's hesitant footsteps.

Mom, youre back Livs voice was tiny.

What is this trash? Joyce roared. I told you seven dishes and one soup! Look at this! A plate of old vegetables and a bowl of dirty water? Are you mocking me?

I I wasnt feeling well today

Not feeling well? I think you need a good slap! A sharp crack echoed. It was the sound of a hand hitting a face.

My hand tightened on the doorknob.

Then the little boy screamed: My toys! My toys are broken!

A crash, like toys being swept to the floor.

Liv! Did you touch my sons toys? Jessica's voice was sharp.

I didnt, it was already

You dare talk back! Another slap, louder this time.

The little boy was crying: Bad Auntie! Pay for my toys! Hit her!

Then came the sound of punching and kicking, followed by Livs muffled cry of pain.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I wrenched the doorknob open and walked out.

In the living room, Joyce was yanking Livs hair, Jessica was screaming insults, and the five- or six-year-old boy was raising his foot to kick Liv in the stomach. Ryans brother, Mark, stood by the entrance, still holding a suitcase, watching the scene with a faint, amused smile.

I walked over and shoved the little boy aside. He stumbled, fell, and wailed loudly.

I brought my hand across the childs face, a quick, hard slap.

Joyce froze, releasing Livs hair. Who are you? How dare you touch my grandson?

She didn't wait for my answer. She whipped her head toward Liv, who was now huddled against the wall, and screamed: Liv! We dont need any more maids in this house! Youre enough. Who do you think you are? We leave for one week and you bring home a beggar?

I ignored her first insult, and with a swift, backhanded motion, I slapped Joyce across the face.

CRACK.

The sound was sharp and deafening. Joyce stumbled back two steps, clutching her face, her eyes wide with shock.

Jessica shrieked: Assault! Call the police! A maniac is attacking us!

Mark finally lifted his head, dropped his phone, and charged at me: What are you doing!

Just then, the front door was pushed open again.

Ryan Cole, a few steps behind the others, stood in the doorway with his suitcase, taking in the chaotic scene. His eyes landed on my face.

...Mom? What are you doing here?

His mouth hung open. He was completely frozen.