"Every Time You Leave, Your Fiancee Hurts My Mom," The Maid's Little Daughter Told The Millionaire - And The House Went Quiet
The private study was off-limits when Nathaniel was working.
The west wing stayed locked.
His coffee always had one spoonful of sugar, even though he acted like he drank it black when investors or board members came around.
Olivia, the little daughter, spent most of her days in the staff quarters.
She'd sit there drawing pictures with her teddy bear by her side.
But kids often don't understand the unspoken rules adults set.
Before long, Nathaniel started finding crayon drawings under the door of his study.
The first one was a bright yellow sun.
The second showed three people holding hands.
The third picture was of Nathaniel with a huge head, tiny legs, and a lopsided smile.
I guess this is supposed to be me, he said when Olivia showed up in the doorway.
Yes.
Why is my head so big?
Because you think too much.
And why am I smiling?
Because you never do, so I gave you one.
Against his better judgment, Nathaniel put the drawing in his desk drawer instead of throwing it away.
He'd grown up in that mansion, surrounded by employees, lawyers, and business meetings.
His mother passed away when he was eleven.
His father, Henry Reed, buried his sorrow in work and taught his son that showing feelings was a sign of weakness.
Nathaniel took over Reed Industries, modernized the factories, and made the profits soar.
He could handle billion-dollar deals without raising his voice.
But he was at a loss for words when a three-year-old asked if he'd eaten lunch or left half a piece of candy by his computer because she thought he looked tired.
Then came the millionaire's fiancee, Victoria Harris.
She stepped out of a black luxury car with four suitcases, garment bags full of designer dresses, and a smile that never reached her eyes.
The Fiancee's Cold Welcome
Victoria was 31 and came from a wealthy real-estate family.
The press had painted her marriage to Nathaniel as an ideal match.
Two well-respected names, business interests that meshed, and enough clout to be on every society page in LA.
The moment Victoria spotted Grace, she sized her up from head to toe.
"You must be the new maid," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," Grace replied.
"Unpack my luggage before dinner, "Victoria commanded.
"And keep the little daughter away from the main rooms. This mansion isn't a daycare," she added.
Emma quickly hid behind her mother.
That night, as Grace tucked Emma into bed, Emma whispered, "I don't like the shiny lady." "You have to be polite," Grace told her.
"She's going to marry Mr. Nathaniel." "She gets mean when he leaves," Emma said.
Grace stopped in her tracks.
Just a few hours earlier, Nathaniel had stepped outside to take a business call.
As soon as he was out of sight, Victoria cornered Grace in the hallway.
"Listen up," she said.
"I don't want you here. And I definitely don't want your daughter roaming around like she owns the place. After the wedding, you both are out." Grace looked down.
"I need this job," she said.
"That's not my problem," Victoria snapped.
Neither of them knew that Emma had been halfway up the stairs, listening.
"It's okay," Grace told her daughter.
"Those are adult issues." "I'm going to tell Mr. Nathaniel," Emma said.
"No, "Grace sat next to her.
"That'll just make it worse. Promise me you won't say a word." Emma agreed, though she didn't understand why telling the truth could be more harmful than staying quiet.
The next few weeks were tough.
