The Nanny’s Daughter Stole My Life

The maid's daughter slapped her own face hard, then pointed a trembling finger at me, accusing me of hitting her.

My two personal bodyguards immediately turned on me, their faces twisted with righteous anger.

Blair, so what if we didn't stay to watch the stars with you last night?

How dare you lay a hand on Phoebe?

"Exactly! Get on your knees and apologize to her right now, or we are done with you!"

A cold laugh escaped my lips. These two bodyguards had been trained by my family since they were kids. They grew up alongside me.

And now, they actually thought they ran this house?

I stepped forward and delivered a vicious, backhanded slap across both of their faces. The sharp crack echoed through the massive foyer.

"Since when do two stray dogs get to bare their fangs at their master?" I asked, my voice dripping with ice.

"Arthur," I called out without looking back. "Doesn't our diamond mine in the blistering heat of the Australian Outback have a severe labor shortage?"

"Pack these two blind, ungrateful mutts onto the next cargo plane and send them straight there."

Arthur, our silver-haired butler, broke into a wide, deeply satisfied smile.

"Right away, Miss Blair!"

The two bodyguards froze, touching their stinging cheeks.

This... this wasn't how the script was supposed to go.

Seeing Carter and Jaxon get slapped, Phoebe immediately threw herself in front of them, acting like a martyr.

"Blair, it is fine if you want to hit me, but how could you strike them?"

She let out a pathetic, breathy sob. "I know this is all my fault. I twisted my ankle last night. I never should have called them away..."

Listening to Phoebe's manipulative, sugary whining, my mind rapidly processed the plot of the world I had just awakened in.

The original Blair was the sole heir to a multi-billion dollar corporate empire. Yet, she was written as a pathetic, cowardly doormat.

Last night was her birthday. Carter and Jaxon had promised to take her camping in the wilderness to watch the meteor shower. But the moment the tent was pitched, the two brothers received a frantic call from Phoebe, the live-in maid's daughter.

Hearing that Phoebe had slightly twisted her ankle, the two men panicked. They jumped into the only SUV and sped off, abandoning the heiress in the middle of a pitch-black, freezing forest.

Since Blair's parents died in a tragic car accident, this was far from the first time they had ditched her for the maid's daughter.

They had promised to take Blair to a sold-out stadium concert. She waited at the gates clutching the VIP tickets until the stadium went dark. They never answered their phones. Later, she saw their social media posts. They had spent the entire day at Universal Studios, flanking Phoebe with wide smiles. The caption read: Spending a magical day with our little princess! Always keep smiling, Phoebe! The comments beneath were filled with sickeningly sweet inside jokes.

Blair had stood in the empty, windswept plaza, freezing and entirely alone.

When Blair and Phoebe both caught severe pneumonia last winter, the two bodyguards stayed by Phoebe's hospital bed for seven days and seven nights. They never once checked on Blair.

And last night, they left her completely stranded in a dangerous, howling wilderness. Terrified of the rustling shadows and wild animal cries, she had to call the estate butler to send a rescue team.

By the time she made it back to the mansion, the sun was rising.

She walked through the doors only to be met by the smug, triumphant face of the beloved heroine, Phoebe. Without a word, Phoebe slapped herself and started crying, perfectly framing Blair just as the bodyguards walked in.

Which led to this exact moment.

Carter and Jaxon were technically employees, but Blair had always treated them like family. She never spoke a harsh word to them.

Now, her palm had left bright red welts on their jaws.

They stared at me, their eyes wide with utter disbelief.

"Blair, you actually hit us?"

Jaxon's voice trembled with absolute fury.

"All because we went to take care of Phoebe last night?"

Carter's eyes darkened, stepping forward aggressively. "It seems we have spoiled you too much, Blair. It has made you arrogant and utterly toxic!"

Seeing the tension, Phoebe immediately dropped to her knees on the marble floor, her tears falling perfectly on cue.

"It is all my fault! Blair, please! I know I do not deserve their attention. Please do not take your anger out on them..."

Before anyone could stop her, she raised her hands and slapped her own cheeks, creating a loud, dramatic smacking sound.

The two brothers looked like their hearts were being ripped out. They rushed to her sides, desperately grabbing her wrists.

Carter pulled her into his chest, glaring at me. "Stop it, Phoebe! It is not your fault! Blair is just an entitled brat who thinks she owns the world."

"You are just too kind and pure," Carter whispered, brushing a tear from her cheek. "That is why she always gets away with bullying you."

Jaxon turned to me, his jaw clenched so hard a vein popped in his neck.

"Blair, get on your knees and apologize to Phoebe right now, or we will never speak to you again!"

Phoebe's eyes were red and swollen. She weakly tugged at their sleeves.

"Jaxon, Carter, please do not ruin your relationship with Blair over me. It is my fault... I am just the daughter of a maid..."

Jaxon shushed her gently, then shot me a look of pure venom.

"Are you deaf, Blair? I said get on your knees!"

Peeking out from Carter's embrace, Phoebe shot me a fleeting, arrogant smirk.

I looked at these two ungrateful parasites, and the rest of the novel's plot flashed through my mind.

In the original story, these two exact bodyguards teamed up with Blair's adopted brother and her fianc to murder her. The day after her wedding, the four men locked her in a pitch-black basement and tortured her to death.

After she died, her fianc inherited her billion-dollar empire as her widower and happily married Phoebe. The adopted brother and the bodyguards stood at the altar, smiling and clapping. A perfect happy ending.

When I read that trash ending in my past life, I cursed the author for being a sociopath.

And then I woke up in Blair's body.

Watching the two brothers continue to bark at me like rabid dogs, a dark, dangerous smile spread across my face.

"Jaxon. Carter. You two are nothing but leeches."

"You eat my food. You live in my house. My family paid for your education and your clothes. And now, you want me, your employer, to kneel to a maid's daughter?"

I turned my gaze to the silver-haired man standing quietly by the door.

"Arthur. Back in the old days, what happened to disloyal servants who forgot who owned the house?"

Arthur was a veteran of the estate. He had watched Blair grow up and had always secretly despised her tragic weakness.

Hearing my cold, authoritative tone, his eyes lit up with a dangerous spark. His posture straightened instantly.

"Miss Blair, a betrayal like this would normally result in them being beaten to a bloody pulp."

I let out a soft, regretful sigh. "Shame we live in modern times. I suppose a severe lesson in respect will have to do."

"Slap them. Do not stop until they finally remember their place."

A deeply satisfied grin stretched across Arthur's weathered face.

"With pleasure, Miss."

He had loathed these two arrogant brats for years. They constantly paraded around the estate, treating the actual staff like garbage, never showing him an ounce of respect. He had always wanted to put them in their place, but the old Blair would have just cried and forgiven them.

Now, the true heiress was finally awake.

Arthur raised his hand.

Instantly, eight massive, heavily muscled security guards stepped out from the shadows. They grabbed Jaxon and Carter, pinning their arms behind their backs with bone-crushing force.

"What are you doing?! Get your hands off us!"

Jaxon thrashed wildly, but he could not move an inch.

Carter glared at me, his eyes burning with defiance. "Blair! Have you lost your damn mind?! You wouldn't dare touch us!"

A sharp, explosive SMACK echoed through the room.

Arthur stood directly in front of them, lowering his stinging palm.

"You do not address the young miss by her first name," Arthur said, his voice dropping to a lethal gravel. "You lack basic manners."

"Miss Blair was kind enough to treat you well, and you confused her grace for weakness. You forgot who the master is, and who the servant is."

Arthur stepped back and looked at the guards. "Hit them. Keep hitting them until they learn the rules of this house."

Smack! Smack! Smack!

The heavy hands of the estate's elite security detail swung without mercy.

These two had never experienced an ounce of physical discipline in their lives.

At first, they were just stunned. Then, sheer humiliation and rage boiled over.

"Blair, you are going to regret this! We will never forgive you!"

"Ah! You psycho!"

"Make them stop! When your brother gets home, he is going to destroy you for this!"

Oh, Preston? The adopted charity case?

I am the true bloodline of this family. I hold the keys to the empire.

No matter how loud they cursed or struggled, it only earned them a harder, more brutal strike across the mouth.

Soon, the pain finally broke through their massive egos. Their arrogant glares morphed into genuine, panicked terror.

"Blair... please, stop..."

"We won't ask you to apologize anymore, okay? Just make them stop..."

"Ah..."

Seeing their faces swell with dark purple bruises and blood trickling from the corners of their mouths, Phoebe was entirely paralyzed with shock.

This was completely wrong.

Usually, Blair would be weeping right now, desperately trying to explain herself. She would be offering them expensive watches or cars just to make them smile again.

But today, Blair was sitting in an armchair, watching them bleed with eyes as cold as dead winter.

Panic seized Phoebe's chest. She threw herself toward my feet, crying hysterically.

"Miss Blair! Please! It is all my fault! Have mercy on them, please do not hit them anymore..."

Martha, the head maid and Phoebe's mother, rushed out from the kitchen. Seeing the violence, she dropped to her knees beside her daughter, wailing.

"Miss, please stop this madness! When the young master returns, he will be furious with you..."

I ignored her crying. My eyes locked onto the glittering diamond bracelet wrapped around the maid's wrist.

That bracelet was worth ten million dollars. It was my late mother's absolute favorite piece of jewelry.

And now it was casually strapped to a servant's wrist?

It seems they really thought this mansion belonged to them.

How fascinating.

"Martha," I said slowly, letting the silence command the room. "If my memory serves me right, that bracelet is my mother's heirloom."

"I am just terribly curious. How did it end up on your arm?"

"My father fought a ruthless bidding war at Sotheby's to win that for her. It cost ten million dollars. The transaction records and certificates of authenticity are locked in the family vault. You certainly have expensive taste."

"What?"

"Ten million?"

The other maids and staff gathered in the hallway gasped, covering their mouths in shock.

"Is Martha insane?"

"Oh my god! She is a thief!"

"How dare she steal something that expensive? It belonged to the late Madam!"

Martha froze. All the color drained from her face.

She had only stepped out to play the loyal servant and beg for mercy, never expecting the fire to instantly catch her own clothes.

She desperately tried to pull her sleeve down over the diamonds, her eyes darting around in sheer terror.

She slammed her forehead against the marble, sobbing wildly.

"Miss... Miss, I am so sorry! I swear I did not know it was worth that much! I just borrowed it to feel pretty for one day."

"Please, considering how many years I have served you, please forgive me this one time!"

"I swear I will never do it again!"

I did not even blink at her. I turned my head to the butler.

"Arthur. Take a team to Martha's living quarters. Tear the place apart. Let us see what else she decided to 'borrow'."

A sharp, vindictive glint flashed in Arthur's eyes. He bowed deeply.

"Right away, Miss! I always suspected this woman had sticky fingers, but in the past..."

He let the sentence hang.

In the past, the original Blair was so desperate for love and peace that she let the servants walk all over her. If Arthur had spoken up before, Blair would have just brushed it off and made him look like the bad guy.

But seeing the new, ruthless fire in his employer's eyes, Arthur felt his spine straighten with pride.

Arthur waved his hand.

Two massive guards immediately stepped forward, ignoring Martha's screeching. They pinned her to the floor, dragging her off to the side like a sack of garbage.

Several other guards marched directly toward the servant quarters.

Watching this unfold, Carter and Jaxon momentarily forgot the blinding pain in their faces. They stared at the scene, absolutely dumbfounded.

Phoebe's face turned the color of ash.

She knew her mother regularly skimmed from the grocery budget and occasionally pawned off small, unnoticeable silver trinkets to buy her designer clothes. Phoebe had even encouraged it.

But she had no idea her mother was stupid enough to steal a ten-million-dollar heirloom right after the owners died.

And she never expected Blair to publicly execute them for it.

"Blair! Please, no!"

"My mom just made a stupid mistake!"

"She has taken care of your family for years! Even if you do not respect her, she has poured her blood and sweat into this house!"

Phoebe lunged forward, trying to grab my legs, but I kicked her away with the sharp point of my heel.

"Trash," I sneered, looking down at her crumpled form.

"You think pouring some coffee and doing laundry gives her the right to steal a ten-million-dollar piece of my dead mother's soul?"

"And she raised a daughter who boldly frames the owner of the house to her face?"

Footsteps echoed down the hall. The guards returned.

They placed an exquisite velvet jewelry box on the coffee table, followed by a pile of limited-edition designer bags and silk garments.

"Miss, Arthur. We found all of this hidden inside a false bottom in her closet trunk."

A guard popped the velvet box open.

Inside sat several breathtaking pieces of fine jewelry and a vintage, one-of-a-kind Patek Philippe watch.

Arthur picked up a heavy emerald necklace, his hands trembling with rage. His face turned an alarming shade of purple.

"This... the Madam wore this all the time! And this watch was the late Master's favorite collectible!"

He glared down at Martha, his voice shaking with absolute disgust.

"You vile, wretched woman!"

"The Madam took pity on you. She allowed you to raise your daughter in this mansion, eating our food, living in luxury. And this is how you repay them? You are worse than a stray rat!"

With the undeniable evidence displayed on the table, the entire room erupted.

The other maids had hated Martha for years. After the parents died, Martha acted like she was the new lady of the house because her daughter was surrounded by wealthy men. She refused to do chores and treated the junior staff like slaves.

Seeing her finally fall was sweeter than honey.

"My god! Look at how much she took!"

"She is a complete sociopath. A leech!"

"The Madam treated her like family. She treated Phoebe like her own niece, and this woman robs her grave?!"

Martha collapsed completely, her eyes vacant and filled with doom.

I glanced at the pile of stolen luxury goods.

I sneered internally. The original Blair was so blindingly stupid to let these two manipulate her into an early grave.

"Arthur, call the police."

My voice was dead calm and freezing cold.

"Hand all the evidence to the detectives. Press maximum charges. I want her in a federal cell."

"No! Please, do not call the cops, Miss!"

"I was wrong! I know I was wrong!"

"Please... for the sake of all the years I spent brushing your hair and making your meals, spare me!"

"I will give it all back to you! It is all right here, I swear there is nothing else!"

Martha finally realized her life was over. She crawled toward me, smashing her forehead into the marble floor, leaving smears of blood.

Phoebe was hyperventilating.

If they called the cops, her mother would be a convicted felon! Phoebe's reputation in high society would be permanently destroyed.

She frantically joined her mother, slamming her head against the floor.

"Blair, it is my fault! I never should have made you mad!"

"Punish me! Beat me! Do whatever you want, but please do not call the police!"

I stared down at them from my chair, my lips curling in disgust.

"Do not call me by my first name. You are a maid's daughter. Learn your place."

"Now you want to beg and bleed on my floor?"

"Where was this regret when your mother was looting my dead parents' bedroom? Where was this regret when you were smiling while setting me up to be attacked?"

"It is too late."

"Arthur, drag them out to the driveway. They are staining my floors."

Arthur waved his hand.

The guards grabbed the two women by their hair and clothes, dragging them toward the heavy oak doors.

Martha shrieked like a slaughtered pig. A guard finally slapped her hard across the mouth, and the screaming stopped.

Phoebe thrashed wildly, trying to grab onto her mother's hand, but a guard yanked her back effortlessly.

Just as the chaos reached its peak, the front doors flew open, and a furious voice thundered through the hall.

"Stop this right now!"

I looked up. A young man in a sharp, bespoke Italian suit stormed into the foyer. His jaw was tight, his face dark with rage.

It was Preston. The adopted son. My so-called brother.

He was supposed to be at a critical corporate summit today. Clearly, someone had tipped him off, and he had abandoned his duties to rush back.

The moment he stepped inside, he saw Martha being dragged by her hair, Jaxon and Carter kneeling with bloody, swollen faces, and the entire staff watching in silence.

His eyes locked onto me, burning with hatred.

"Blair! What the hell is going on here?!"

He pointed a harsh finger at my face.

"I leave for one morning, and you turn the house into a slaughterhouse?!"

"It seems my leniency has turned you into a complete monster!"

"Release Martha and Phoebe instantly!"

The guards hesitated. They looked at Preston, then looked back at me, unsure of whose orders to follow.

Seeing their savior arrive, Phoebe and the bodyguards felt a surge of hope.

Phoebe sobbed dramatically. "Preston! Save us!"

They immediately began wailing, twisting the story to make me look like a tyrant.

"Release them?"

I laughed out loud. The sound was sharp and mocking.

"One is a thief who stole tens of millions of dollars from my parents. The other is a manipulative liar who tried to turn my own security against me."

"You want me to let them go? Who gave you the authority to make demands in my house?"

Preston paused. He clearly hadn't grasped the full situation yet.

"What nonsense are you spewing?!"

Arthur stepped forward smoothly, bowing his head but keeping his voice rock solid.

"Sir, the young miss is telling the absolute truth. The evidence is right there."

"We found roughly twenty million dollars worth of the late Master and Madam's personal jewelry and watches hidden inside a false floorboard in Martha's closet."

"The young miss was simply handing them over to law enforcement."

Preston looked at the dazzling pile of jewels on the table. He looked at Martha's deeply guilty, terrified eyes.

His face twitched.

He was at a loss for words, but his ego refused to let him back down. He glared at me, his tone shifting from angry to condescending.

"Even... even if Martha made a mistake, we handle things internally! Do you have to destroy the family's reputation by involving the police?"

"Do you have no shame?"

He then pointed fiercely at Carter and Jaxon.

"And what about them? What crime did Carter and Jaxon commit?"

"You humiliate your own personal protection detail like this? They are practically family!"

"You are completely out of control!"

"Out of control?"

The temperature in my eyes plummeted to absolute zero.

"These two mutts eat my food and spend my money, yet their loyalty belongs entirely to a maid's daughter."

"They tried to force me, the owner of this estate, to drop to my knees and apologize to a servant."

"Am I out of control? Or did they forget who holds their leash?"

"You!"

Preston's chest heaved with rage.

"If they told you to apologize, you should have just apologized!"

"If you did not constantly bully Phoebe out of jealousy, they would not be forced to discipline you!"

"If you were even half as sweet and understanding as Phoebe, none of this would be happening!"

I stood up, walked directly up to him, and slapped him across the face with everything I had.

CRACK!

The explosive sound silenced the entire mansion.

"Preston, do not forget exactly what you are!"

"I am the eldest daughter of this family. I am the sole legal heir to the empire."

"You are just a stray dog my parents took pity on and brought inside!"

"They gave you a life of luxury, an elite education, and a respected name. They did not raise you so you could bite the hand that feeds you and disrespect their only actual child!"

"This house belongs to my bloodline!"

"It is not your place to teach me anything!"

Every word I spoke struck like lightning.

The entire room was paralyzed with shock. Preston stood frozen, his hand hovering over his stinging cheek.

His face turned a sickly pale green.

Anger, profound humiliation, and the deep, buried terror of having his adopted status thrown in his face collided in his eyes.

His biggest insecurity was that he wasn't related by blood. The old Blair was so desperate for family that she never, ever brought it up. She worshipped him.

But today, I ripped off his mask and beat him with it.

"You... you..."

His finger trembled as he pointed at me. He couldn't form a coherent sentence.

After a long, suffocating silence, he gnashed his teeth together.

"Fine. Perfect."

His eyes filled with a dark, venomous threat.

"I am the CEO of the corporation now. Since you want to play this game, do not even think about setting foot inside the company headquarters ever again!"

I actually paused. Did I hear that right?

Did the author of this trash novel lack basic legal knowledge?

Ban me from the company?

I calmly pulled out my phone, opening the digital copies of the share transfer agreements and my father's iron-clad will. I shoved the glowing screen inches from his face.

"Preston, open your dog eyes and read."

"I am the sole inheritor. I hold the absolute majority of the voting shares."

"Stripping you of your title takes exactly one phone call from me."

"You are going to ban me from my own company?"

"Are you mentally deficient, or am I?"