The Imposter Living in My Mansion

I quickly dialed 911. The reason? I had just returned home from a month-long trip to the Maldives only to encounter an infuriating scene. Previously, the housekeeper, without my permission, had brought her daughter to live in the house. At the time, she swore the mother and daughter would only stay in the staff quarters, so I didnt press the issue further. Until that day, a lease agreement on the living room table caught my eye. Beside it was a glaring sticky note that read: Shameless, living in my house for so long for free. Starting next month, Im collecting rent, twenty thousand a month, six months deposit, three months upfront! I was holding the contract, about to confront the housekeeper, when her daughter, arms crossed, rolled her eyes at me disdainfully. She preemptively questioned, Youve lived here for so long, have you paid a single penny in rent? Now Im just claiming whats rightfully mine. What right do you have to complain? Her twisted words made me laugh in anger. It seemed I couldnt let them get away with this without teaching them a lesson.

1 911? Id like to report a trespasser. Hearing I was calling the police, Mandys face instantly changed. Are you crazy? This is my house. Why are you calling the police? I ignored her, stating the address into the phone. Yes, someone has unlawfully entered a private residence and is suspected of extortion. Theres written evidence on site. Mrs. Kinnear rushed out of the kitchen, clutching a handful of greens. Whats going on? Seeing the lease agreement in my hand and her daughters pale face, the greens in her hand dropped to the floor with a thud. Maam! Maam, this is a misunderstanding, Mandy, she doesnt know any better Mrs. Kinnear lunged forward to apologize to me, but Mandy blocked her. Mom, dont beg her! Mandy stiffened her neck, though her voice began to waver. She dares to call the police? She dares to let the police check whose house this is? Shes just a kept woman Mandy, I cut her off, say one more word, and Ill have you locked up for defamation too. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. The police arrived quickly. Two young officers, one taking notes, the other examining the scene. The lease agreement was put into an evidence bag, and the handwriting on the sticky note was photographed for evidence. Mandy stood in the corner, her phone clutched in her hand, the screen flashing repeatedly. I wondered who she was texting. Ms. Ford, the officer taking notes looked up at me, who is the owner of this house? I said, Me, Clara Ford. The property deed is in my bedroom safe. I can retrieve it if needed. No need. He closed his notebook. The on-site evidence is sufficient. However, we need to confirm the relationship between Ms. Kinnear and you? I glanced at Mandy. She still wore an arrogant, unrepentant expression. No relation. Shes my housekeepers daughter. She moved in without my permission and forged a lease agreement to charge me rent. Mandy suddenly shrieked, What forged? That contract is real! This house is mine! Mandy! Mrs. Kinnear clapped a hand over her daughters mouth, trembling all over. Stop talking, Moms begging you, stop talking The officers exchanged glances. One of them told Mandy, Ms. Kinnear, please come back to the station with us to assist with the investigation. You are suspected of unlawful entry and extortion, which requires further verification. I watched her coldly, saying nothing. Mrs. Kinnear suddenly knelt down, her forehead pressed to the floor, knocking repeatedly. Maam! Maam, I beg you! Mandys father died early, I didnt raise her well. Please, for the sake of me saving you a year ago, spare her this one time Her forehead hit the flagstone, making a dull thud. I looked at her greying temples, remembering that rainy night when she also knelt on the ground, begging the doctor to save me. A year ago, I had a miscarriage and fainted on the staircase. Mrs. Kinnear discovered me when she got up in the night. She immediately called for an ambulance and got me to the hospital, which allowed me to receive timely emergency care and saved my life. Thats why I always treated her like family, giving her a generous bonus during holidays and special occasions. Mrs. Kinnear, I knelt down, putting a hand on her shoulder. Please get up. Unless Maam agrees, I wont get up I sighed. I agree. I wont pursue this. I looked at the police officer. Were settling. No charges. The officer seemed surprised. Ms. Ford, the evidence is conclusive. Following procedure would mean at least fifteen days in detention. Are you sure? Im sure. I said. Mrs. Kinnear saved my life. Today, I wont pursue charges. Consider it repayment for her kindness. Mandy froze, as if she hadnt expected me to let her off so easily. Her expression shifted from fright to confusion, then finally to a barely concealed smugness. She thought I was afraid, that I had some secret leverage preventing me from escalating the situation. I looked at Mandy. But, if I ever see anything like this again, there wont be such an easy settlement. She pouted, saying nothing. Also, I pointed to her pajamas, take those clothes off, wash them, and leave them outside my bedroom door. I want to see them tomorrow morning. Her face flushed crimson, but with the police still present, she dared not lash out. I turned and went upstairs, hearing Mrs. Kinnears endless thanks behind me, and Mandys low murmur: Whats the big deal? Its not even her house, putting on airs Two months ago, my husband and I went on vacation to the Maldives. Only Mrs. Kinnear was left at home. To my surprise, upon returning, I found the house in disarray. My treasured red wine, my silk pajamas. All ruined by someone. I initially thought the house had been robbed and was about to call the police. Mrs. Kinnear, who had just returned from grocery shopping, saw it and tearfully begged for my forgiveness. It turned out her daughter had just come to the city for a job and had nowhere to stay. Mrs. Kinnear thought the house was empty anyway, so she let her stay for a while. She repeatedly promised. She wouldnt let Mandy touch anything in the house again, and her activities would be confined to the staff quarters. Seeing the mother and daughter, dependent on each other, seemed truly pitiful, so I reluctantly agreed. As a result, Mandy not only wandered around my villa every day but also used my bathtub without permission and stole my skincare products. I tolerated it again and again. To my surprise, a month later, Mandy tossed a lease agreement at me. The lessor on the contract was even her name! I had let her live here, eat and stay for free, yet she turned around and demanded rent from me. That evening, Mrs. Kinnear, her eyes red, knocked on my bedroom door. She handed me the envelopes of money I had given her over the years, her voice hoarse. Maam, its my daughter being foolish, causing you trouble. But Im an old woman, and I only have this one daughter Its all my fault, I didnt raise her well. I left her in the countryside since she was little, didnt look after her properly. Please, in your great generosity, dont hold it against her. Shes just a child. Ill make her move out as soon as she finds a job, okay? This money is our rent, mother and daughter. Seeing her like this, I remembered the child Id lost to miscarriage and couldnt help but soften. I stuffed the envelopes back into her pocket, ultimately not having the heart to kick them out. You can continue to stay here. But if I find her touching my things again, dont expect me to be so lenient. The next morning, as I went downstairs for coffee, Mandy was already sitting at the dining table, fully dressed. She had changed out of my silk pajamas, wearing one of Mrs. Kinnears old jackets, her hair neatly tied back, a laptop open in front of her. Morning, Ms. Ford. She greeted me with a smile, as if nothing had happened yesterday. Im looking for a job. Am I bothering you? I ignored her, heading directly to the coffee machine. Oh, right, she suddenly said, I posted a TikTok last night, accidentally filmed the living room. Netizens say this house is beautiful. My hand paused. Delete it. Why should I? She tilted her head, looking innocent. I didnt film you; I filmed my house. Oh, no, its your house now, but eventually She didnt finish, just looked at me with a meaningful smile. Mandy, I turned, articulating each word, Im saying this one last time. This house is mine. My name is on the deed. If you spread any more nonsense, I will hire a lawyer to sue you for defamation. Yours? She scoffed, her fingers typing rapidly on the keyboard. Clara Ford, do you think I dont know? This house belongs to Sterling Julian, the heir to the Sterling Group. Youre just his kept woman. You actually think youre the lady of the house? I froze. How did she know Sterling? Sterling and I had been secretly married for three years, never publicly announcing it. Even Mrs. Kinnear only knew my husbands last name was Sterling, and that he occasionally traveled for work, never asking too many questions. Dont look at me like that, Mandy said, confidently lifting her chin. I checked. This villa is registered under Sterling Julians name. Youre a woman with no official status, living here for free, eating and drinking, and you still have the nerve to put on airs with me? She stood up, leaning close to my ear, her voice soft as a serpents hiss. Clara Ford, arent you just a mistress? Why the act? I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. So that was it. She thought I was Sterlings mistress, thought she had leverage over me, which was why she dared to be so arrogant. I had intended to explain, but looking at her face, filled with greed and calculation, I suddenly felt it was unnecessary. Explaining to an idiot was a waste of breath. I poured myself a cup of coffee and returned to my room. Think what you like. I occasionally scrolled through Mandys TikTok, finding her follower count growing alarmingly fast. The video title was A Day in the Life of a Heiress. She made breakfast in my kitchen, tried on clothes in my walk-in closet, and had afternoon tea by my pool. She never showed her full face, either filming her back or wearing a mask, coupled with lazy background music and exquisite filters, creating the persona of a mysterious rich girl. The comments section was full of envious messages: [So beautiful, which mansion is this?] [Heard this is the Sterling Group heirs house. Is she Mrs. Sterling?] [Secret marriage confirmed! Someone once filmed Sterling Julian with a mysterious woman, could it be her?] She never denied it, only posted ambiguous emojis. Friday evening, as I went downstairs for water, I heard an argument from Mrs. Kinnears room. Are you crazy? Thats illegal! Mrs. Kinnears voice was tearful. Mom, what do you know? This is called monetizing traffic! Mandy said impatiently. Do you know how much I get for one ad? Fifty thousand! Fifty thousand! You wont earn that in a lifetime as a housekeeper! But this is lying Maam, she She what? Shes just a mistress! Flaunting herself in Sterlings house. Im just carrying out divine justice! I leaned against the wall, listening quietly. Mom, just stay out of it. Once I get a million followers, Ill land a big deal. Then well move out, buy our own house, and never have to suffer anyones bad temper again! Mrs. Kinnear was still crying, but her voice faded. I carried my water glass upstairs, my heart icy cold. So Mrs. Kinnear knew. But she chose to remain silent. Monday morning, I was woken by my phone vibrating frantically. Checking it, I saw dozens of missed calls, 99+ WhatsApp messages, all from friends and business partners. Clara, have you seen the trending topic? Are you okay? Do you need my help? Who is this woman? How dare she? I opened Twitter. The top trending topic glaringly read: #SterlingJulian'sSecretWife# Clicking into it, the pinned post was a long article by a marketing account, accompanied by screenshots from Mandys TikTok. The article vividly narrated: Sterling Group heir Sterling Julian, secretly married for three years, his wife turns out to be the mysterious online celebrity MandyB. It is reported that the woman lives in Sterling Julians mansion, regularly sharing her opulent lifestyle. Recently, netizens uncovered her true identity The comments section was full of blessings. The few dissenting voices were immediately attacked by fans: [Haters begone! Does the legitimate wife need to prove herself to you?] Soon after, another ID named TruthDigger jumped out and posted a tweet. He posted nine pictures: me and Sterling in a restaurant, us entering a hotel together, him picking me up at the airport. In the photos, my face was either in profile or my back was turned, but it was clearly the same person. The caption read: [Sterling Julian, secretly married for three years, his wife is discreet and virtuous, yet someone took advantage and interfered. According to insiders, the womans last name is Ford, CEO of a certain company, who approached Sterling Julian under the guise of work, repeatedly entering his private residence. Mrs. Sterling, kind and forbearing, was repeatedly provoked and insulted by the other party. Justice may be delayed, but it will not be denied.] The comments section had gone insane. [Holy sh*t! Mistress get lost!] [This woman has the face of a vixen!] [Poor Mrs. Sterling, you can tell from her face shes kind and easily bullied!] [Last name Ford? Is it that Clara Ford? I always thought she was fake!] I scrolled down and saw my photos photoshopped into various monstrous images, captioned Mistress, go die. Someone had dug up my companys address, and others were talking about sending me funeral wreaths. My phone rang again. It was my assistant, Leo, his voice tearful. Ms. Ford, the company building is surrounded by reporters, and and people are throwing things. Please dont come in today I hung up, trembling with anger. I rushed downstairs. Mandy was sitting in the living room, a tripod set up in front of her, livestreaming. She was wearing full makeup today, and my custom-made gown. Yes, my husband is Sterling Julian. Weve been married for three years. I didnt want to go public before because I was afraid it would affect his work, but I never expected to be taken advantage of She saw me, her eyes lit up, and she said to the camera, Oh dear, speak of the devil. Everyone, look, this is the mistress who has been living in my house, Clara Ford. She spoke, her voice choked with sobs, I kindly took her in, let her live in my house, but I never expected her to to be so shameless She covered her mouth, as if she couldnt continue. The comments section instantly exploded: [Holy cow! The true wife is confronting the mistress!] [This woman has such thick skin, still daring to show up!] [Go, MandyB, go! Tear down that home-wrecker!] [Took her in? A mistress living in the real wifes house?]