I'm on a vacation during the holidays. When I'm scheduling to buy a ticket home, I accidentally oversleep. Still, I manage to secure a train ticket home. Due to the uncomfortable ride, I reach home looking very haggard and wretched.

As soon as I step through the front door, I see someone stuffing a bunch of cleaning appliances into my arms.

A woman can be seen gazing at me haughtily. Then, she starts ordering me around.

"Hurry up! You must clean up this house by 6:00 pm tonight!"

I notice that she's wearing my mom's pajamas. Then, I retreat to the doorway just so I can study the double-storied mansion again.

This is my home! But who the hell is that woman?

Also, who does she expect to clean up this place? Me? As in the only daughter of the wealthiest man in the city?

I tap on my family's group chat and tag my dad.

"@Dad: Hey, why did your new flame order me to clean the house?"

The message had barely been sent for three seconds before the group chat exploded.

My mom, Mary Sullivan, kicked things off with a string of question marks, and Dad's father, Grandpa Anton, had the same response.

Dad's mother, Grandma Alice, then texted, "Clary, are you home? What do you mean, new flame?"

Shortly after, Granddad Bernard wrote, "Derek Bennett, you'd better not have done anything to hurt my daughter, or I'm pulling my investment tomorrow!"

Dad was utterly confused as he replied, "I've been wronged! Completely and utterly wronged! Don't go throwing accusations around, sweetheart! What new flame? Like I'd ever dare! Your mother's been staring me down so hard, I'm surprised I'm still alive! I'm in a faculty meeting right now!"

I wrote back, "Come home and see for yourself!"

I was still looking down at my phone and replying when a rough, calloused hand shot out and snatched it right out of my grip.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

I reached for it on instinct.

The woman gripped my phone tightly, her face so close to mine that our noses were practically touching.

"Did you hear a single word I just said? You come in here, skip the chores, and immediately start slacking off on your phone! Kids these days are so lazy. They can't handle a hard day's work to save their lives.

"Let me tell you something. Since you took this gig, you'd better do a proper job. Otherwise, don't think for a second I won't report you to your agency. Got it?"

A humorless laugh escaped my lips.

In all my life, the only person who'd ever dared snatch my phone was Mom.

"Give it back."

I looked at her coolly, all the earlier amusement gone from my voice, replaced by a chilling undertone.

My grandparents had raised me to be humble and to treat everyone as an equal, so I'd never thought of myself as better than anyone else.

But that didn't mean I was just going to stand there and let a housekeeper walk all over me.

"Give it back? What if I don't?"

Not only did she not hand it over, but she also raised it higher above her head, her expression dripping with contempt.

"What are you going to do, call the police? Go crying to your supervisor? I'll have you know that Professor Bennett, the man of this house, thinks very highly of me. One word from me and you'll be out on your ear!"

"He thinks highly of you?"

I crossed my arms and looked at her with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "What exactly does he think highly of? Your age, or the fact that you don't shower?"

Her expression shifted instantly, like I'd hit a nerve. Her face went red with fury.

"Watch your mouth, you little brat! You're just jealous that I've got it good and that I'm the lady of this house! Take a good look at yourself before you speak. You're dressed like a total bum, and you think you can talk back to me?"

I looked down at myself.

For the sake of comfort on the long ride over, I'd thrown on a gray fleece tracksuit. My hair was a mess from sleeping on the bus, and a few days in the sun had left me noticeably tanner than usual.

Without any makeup, I knew I looked rough.

But apparently, in this woman's eyes, that was all the proof she needed to assume that I was the cleaning lady.

"I'm Professor Bennett's daughter," I said.

Having wasted enough breath on her already, I decided to reveal my identity.

"That robe you're wearing belongs to my mother. Take it off and get out. Now."

The air went still for a beat.

Then, the woman erupted into a piercing, grating cackle.

"Hahaha! Oh, that's rich! You're his daughter? Yeah, and if you're his daughter, then I'm the Queen of Eldura!"

She doubled over, then pointed a finger right at my face. "Listen here, kid. You're too young to be showing off like this.

"I've never met Professor Bennett's daughter, but he talks about her all the time. She's practically royalty, and she's studying abroad. There's no way she'd be caught dead in cheap bargain-bin clothes like that!

"I've seen this act before. You couldn't stand that I've got more going for me, so you decided to puff yourself up to feel better."

Her smile vanished, replaced by a malicious glare.

"I was trying to cut you some slack since you're young and making an honest living is tough. If you just shut up and do your chores, I'll pretend I never heard any of that.

"But if you keep this up, not only do you walk out of here without a dime, you're paying me for emotional damages."

I took a deep breath, feeling my patience running thin.

"I'm going to say this one last time. This is my home. I'm Claire Bennett. If you don't believe me, call Professor Bennett yourself."

"Why would I do that? Professor Bennett is a busy man. He doesn't have time to deal with a little fraud like you!"

The woman seemed utterly convinced that I was a scammer. Or maybe, deep down, she just didn't want to believe me.

"Give me back my phone."

I stepped forward and reached for it.

"Don't push your luck!"

Without any warning, she hurled my phone at the floor with everything she had.

The crack of it hitting the floor echoed through the living room.

The top-of-the-line phone that I'd bought less than a month ago was shattered into pieces, the screen splintered into a web of cracks.

I froze.

I honestly hadn't expected her to have the nerve to destroy my property.

"You—"

Before I could speak, she grabbed the plastic bucket sitting near her feet. It had apparently been prepared for me and was filled to the brim with ice-cold water.

She lifted it and flung it straight at me.

A biting chill instantly soaked through my tracksuit, feeling like a ton of icy needles piercing into my skin.

It was absolutely freezing.

It was the dead of winter outside, the snow coming down heavily. Even though the house had underfloor heating, the water had come straight from the tap and was bone-chillingly cold.

I was completely stunned, my body shivering uncontrollably.

My hair was plastered to my face, and water dripped from my chin onto the expensive marble floor below.

"Feeling a little more clear-headed now?"

The woman stood over me, swinging the empty bucket by her side, a twisted satisfaction flickering across her face.

"Weren't you supposed to be Ms. Bennett? Wasn't this your home? Looked to me like you needed to be taken down a peg. If you want to act up under my roof, you'd better think twice about who you're dealing with!"

"Y-You're insane…"

I tried to speak, but my teeth were chattering so hard that my voice shook.

"I'm insane? Maybe you ought to look in the mirror!"

She threw the bucket aside and came at me, seizing a fistful of my soaking wet hair.

A sharp pain tore across my scalp. She wrenched my head back, and I found myself staring up into her vicious eyes.

"The houses around here are spread far apart. You could scream your lungs out, and no one would come to help you," she snarled. "Want to call the police? Your phone's in pieces. Good luck with that!"

It was true.

This neighborhood was built for privacy. Every house sat behind its own garden and a stretch of trees. Unless I made it outside, whatever happened in here would never reach another living soul.

And right now, I was freezing and exhausted.

My legs were sore from standing for six hours straight, and the shock of the icy water had drained me.

I couldn't fight back against a woman who'd spent years doing hard physical labor.

"What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? I'm teaching you a lesson you won't forget!"

The woman dragged me by the hair, hauling me kicking and screaming toward the downstairs bathroom.

"Let go of me! Let go!"

I struggled with everything I had, clawing at her wrists and leaving bloody scratches down her arms.

"Ouch! You little bitch! How dare you scratch me?"

She sucked in a sharp breath, then backhanded me hard across the face.

The sheer impact made my head spin. My left ear rang instantly, and my vision went white for a second.

Before I could recover, I was shoved against the bathroom sink. She turned the faucet on full blast, letting the freezing water pour out.

"Let's see if this cools you down!"

She pressed her hand to the back of my head and forced me into the sink that was now filled with ice-cold water.

The freezing water rushed into my nose and mouth instantly. The suffocating pressure and the biting cold merged into a terrifying, near-death panic.

I thrashed wildly, arms flailing in the air, knocking the soap dispenser and a reed diffuser bottle off the counter.

A few seconds later, she yanked my head back up.

I wheezed violently, my lungs feeling as if they were on fire. Water streamed down my face, an indistinguishable mix of tears and tap water.

"Have you learned your lesson yet?"

She kept her fist knotted in my hair, staring me down. "Still feel like playing princess?"

I looked her dead in the eye. If looks could kill, she'd have been dead a hundred times over.

"You're going to regret this," I said, biting down hard on every word. "I promise you that."

She scoffed and let her eyes drop to my soaked clothes. "Look at you, tracking water all over my floors! What a filthy, miserable mess!"

Without warning, she released me, then jabbed a finger toward a rag bunched up in the corner.

"Take them off."

I froze. "What?"

"I said take your clothes off!" the woman hissed, her eyes gleaming with malice. "How are you supposed to work in wet clothes? Strip out of those filthy rags so you don't ruin my couch and carpets. You're cleaning these floors naked. You don't get to leave until every single inch is spotless!"

"Not a chance," I said, wrapping my arms tightly around myself.

"We can do this the hard way, then!"

The woman completely snapped. She lunged at me like a lunatic, clawing wildly at my clothes.

"Get your hands off me! My dad is on his way home right now, and if you know what's good for you, you'll stop! Or my family will make you pay for this!"

I fought back as hard as I could, but the sheer difference in physical strength left me at an absolute disadvantage.

The journey home had already exhausted me. I'd only wanted to come home and get some rest.

My soaked clothes were heavy and clung uncomfortably to my skin. As she violently ripped at them, the zipper snapped, and the sound of tearing fabric echoed through the cramped bathroom.

Two more slaps cracked across my face.

My mouth was flooded with the metallic taste of blood, and I could feel that my lip had split.

My jacket hit the floor first, followed by my hoodie.

In the end, I was left shivering in the corner, stripped down to nothing but my underwear.

I could feel the chill in my bones, and the agony wasn't just physical. It was psychological, too.

I'd been pampered and protected my entire life. My grandparents cherished me deeply, and Mom and Dad had never once raised their voices at me.

My life had been smooth sailing up until this moment. I'd never once imagined that a person could be this utterly vile.

Nonetheless, the woman looked thoroughly pleased with her handiwork.

Clutching my torn clothes like trophies, she looked down at me with smug satisfaction.

"That's more like it. If you'd just listened to me from the start, you wouldn't have had to suffer through that."

She kicked my clothes aside like they were garbage, then turned and walked back out to the living room.

She tidied her slightly disheveled hair, adjusted the silk robe that was stretched taut against her heavy frame, and sank back into the couch.

Picking up her half-finished glass of red wine, she took a slow, unhurried sip.

"Pick up the pace," she barked toward the bathroom. "And don't even think about making a run for it. I've locked the front door. If you're not done by 6:00 pm, I'll get a nice photo of you and put it all over the internet so everyone can see what exactly happens to scammers."

My head was spinning badly, and my limbs felt like they belonged to someone else.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Standing outside was a middle-aged woman in a blue utility uniform, carrying a professional toolbox. Her forehead was damp with sweat, and she looked utterly apologetic.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so, so sorry!"

She bowed repeatedly. "The highway was completely backed up, and there was nothing I could do. I'm Carol Baker from the housekeeping agency. Professor Bennett booked a window cleaning and deep clean for this afternoon. I'm really sorry for being late!"

In that instant, the air in the room seemed to freeze, and the woman on the couch stiffened.