The Housemaid (The Housemaid, #1)

by Freida McFadden

She won’t say the words out loud, but she hates him.

What if Andy thought I was having an affair with Enzo? We are not having an affair, by the way. Not even a little bit. He thinks of me like Antonia—his sister he couldn’t save. He hasn’t touched me in a way that is anything other than brotherly. It’s the absolute last thing either of us is thinking about.

The trickiest part is that Millie’s new bedroom will be in the attic. He won’t like that at all. But it has to be that way. He has to see her up there if I want him to think of her as my replacement. I have to entice him. I set the stage before I spring her on him. I wake up every morning complaining of migraines that make it impossible for me to cook or clean. I work hard to leave the house a complete mess. Another few days and our house would be ready to be condemned. We need help. Desperately.

“So fire her if you want.” I blink at him. “I can’t stop you.” “Believe me, I will.” Except he doesn’t fire her. Because when he comes home that night, for the first time, the house is clean. And she serves him a dinner that isn’t burned. And she is young and beautiful. So Millie stays in the attic.

I do my best to pack on the pounds. Since Andy doesn’t have the option of locking me in the attic, I dare to skip my hair appointment and let the darker roots start to show. And most of all, I treat Millie like crap. It doesn’t come easily to me to treat her that way. Deep down, I’m a nice person. Or at least, I used to be before Andy wrecked me. Now everything is a means to an end. Millie might not deserve it, but I can’t do this anymore. I have to get out.

When the GPS tracker on Millie’s phone registers that she’s in Manhattan that night, I know I’ve won. I see the way they look at each other after that. It’s over. He’s in love with her now. He’s her problem. I’m free.

I don’t understand what’s going on here. Nina was always the crazy one. Andrew was the one who was reasonable, who saved me when Nina was accusing me of stealing her clothes. Are they both crazy? Are they both in on this?

I look up and study his handsome features. How could I have fallen in love with this man? He seemed nice and normal and wonderful. I hadn’t even the slightest clue what a monster he is. His goal isn’t to marry me—it’s to make me his prisoner.

I’ve already been a prisoner once—I won’t let it happen again. No way. So I reach into the pocket of my jeans. And I pull out the bottle of pepper spray I found in the bucket.

Millie seems like a sweet girl. That’s what Andrew sees when he looks at her. He won’t dig into her past the way I did. He doesn’t know what she’s capable of.

I initially wanted to hire a maid in hopes that she would become my replacement—that if Andrew fell in love with another woman, he would finally let me go. But that’s not why I hired Millie. That’s not why I gave her a copy of the key to the room. And that’s not why I left a bottle of pepper spray in the blue bucket in the closet. I hired her to kill him. She just doesn’t know it.

“I’ll let you out,” I say. “Just not yet.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The outrage in his voice is palpable. “This is my house. You can’t keep me hostage here. And you’re a criminal. All I have to do is call the police and you’re right back in jail.” “Right,” I say. “But how can you call the police when I have your phone?”

“Millie,” he says in a slow, controlled voice. “I want my phone back.” I let out a hoarse laugh. “I’m sure you do.” “Millie, give me my phone back right now.” “Hmm. I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.” “Millie.” “Just a moment.” I slip his phone into my pocket. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat. I’ll be back real soon.” “Millie!” He’s still calling my name as I walk down the hall and go downstairs. I ignore him. There’s nothing he can do when he’s stuck in that room.

“Yes. I realize now I was wrong.” “I see. So you’re sorry?” He clears his throat. “Yes.” “Say it.” He is silent for a bit. “Say what?” “Say you’re sorry that you did a terrible thing to me.” I watch his expression on the screen. He doesn’t want to tell me he’s sorry because he’s not. All he’s sorry for is that he gave me the chance to get the better of him. “I’m so sorry,” he finally says. “I was absolutely wrong. I did an awful thing to you, and I will never do it again.” He pauses. “Will you let me out now?” “Yes. I will.” “Thank you.” “Just not yet.” He inhales sharply. “Millie…” “I’m going to let you out.” My calm voice belies the pounding in my chest. “But before I do, you have to be punished for what you did to me.” “Don’t play this game,” he growls. “You don’t have the stomach for it.”

He wouldn’t talk to me that way if he knew I beat a man to death with a paperweight. He has no idea. But I’m betting that Nina knows.

I stare down at the screen of his phone, watching him. He pushes the books down his chest so they are squarely on top of his genitals. He didn’t look very uncomfortable before, but that has changed now. His face is frozen in a grimace. “Jesus Christ,” he gasps. “Good,” I say. “Now stay that way for three hours.”

All along, I believed she was the crazy one. Now I don’t know what to think. She must have left me the pepper spray in that room. She suspected what he was going to do to me. Which makes me think he’s done it to her. Maybe many times before. Was Nina ever really jealous? Or was it all just an act? I’m still not entirely sure.

After all, Kelsey never spoke to me again after I killed Duncan. I don’t understand why, because I killed him for her. He was forcing himself on her. But the next time I saw my former best friend, she looked at me with disgust. Nobody ever understood. After I got in trouble for slashing Mr. Cavanaugh’s tires, I tried to explain to my mother how he had told me I was going to fail math class unless I let him feel me up. She didn’t believe me. Nobody believed me.

And then when I finally got a decent job after getting out of prison, I had to deal with that bartender Kyle, who kept grabbing my ass every chance he got. So one day, I spun around and slammed my fist into his nose. He only didn’t press charges because he was so embarrassed that he got beat up by a girl. But they told me not to come back. And soon after that, I was living in my car. The only person I can trust is myself.

“Let. Me. Out.” He sits up on the floor, cradling his head in his hands. “I swear to God, Millie. If you don’t let me out right now, I’m going to kill you.”

“Relax,” I say. “I’m going to let you out.” “Good.” “Just not yet.” “Millie…” he growls. “I did exactly what you said. Three hours.” “Three hours?” I raise my eyebrows even though he can’t see them. “I’m sorry if you heard three hours. I actually said five hours. So I’m afraid you’re going to have to start over.” “Five…” I love that the full-color display allows me to see the way his face blanches. “I can’t do that. I can’t do five more hours. Come on. You’ve got to let me out of here. This game is over.” “This isn’t a negotiation, Andrew,” I say patiently. “If you want to get out of this room, you’re going to keep those books on your junk for the next five hours. The choice is yours.” “Millie. Millie.” His breathing is jagged. “Look, there is always room to negotiate. What do you want? I’ll give you money. I’ll give you a million dollars right now if you let me out of this room. How about that?” “No.” “Two million.” It’s easy for him to offer me money he has no intention of ever giving me. “I’m afraid not. I’m going to go to bed now, but maybe in the morning I’ll see you again.” “Millie, be reasonable!” His voice breaks. “At least I left you with some water. Can’t I have some water?” “I’m afraid not,” I say. “Maybe next time, you should leave the girl you lock in the room with more water, so some will be left for you.” With those words, I walk down the hallway as he screams my name. As soon as I get down to the bedroom, I google: How long can a person live without water?

If I had seen even the tiniest suspicious bruise on my child, I would have told Enzo to go ahead and kill him. But I never saw anything.

He’s close to breaking point. He can’t stand it. He’s willing to rip his own teeth out of his mouth just to get out of this room.

He has no idea this is just the beginning.

AHAHAHAHA FUCK YOU ANDREW

“Is Cece okay?” I ask. “She’s fine.” I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. “Is she watching TV?” “TV? No, no, no. I teach her Italian. She is a natural.” Despite everything, I laugh. Although it’s a weak sound. “Can I speak to her?” There’s a pause and Cece comes on the other line. “Ciao, Mama!” I swallow. “Hello, sweetheart. How are you?” “Bene. When are you coming to pick me up?” “Soon,” I lie. “Just keep working on your Italian, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I take a breath. “I… I love you.” “I love you too, Mom!”

“I never knew him personally,” Connors says. “But my daughter did.” “Your… daughter?” He nods. “Her name is Kathleen Connors. Actually, small world—she and your husband were engaged a long time ago.” I blink at him. Kathleen. The fiancée who Andy broke up with before the two of us got together. The one I tried to find so many times, but kept coming up empty-handed. Kathleen is this man’s daughter. But what does that mean? He lowers his voice several notches until I have to strain to hear. “The breakup was rough on her. She wouldn’t talk about it. Still won’t. She moved far away after that and she even changed her name. She hasn’t been out on a date with a man since.” My heart speeds up. “Oh. I…” “I always wondered what exactly Andrew Winchester did to my daughter.” He presses his lips together until they form a straight line. “So when I transferred out here about a year ago and started poking around, I thought it was interesting that you claimed he had been locking you up in the attic, but nobody could verify your story was real. Although truthfully, it looks like nobody did very much to try. The Winchesters used to have a lot of pull out here before they moved down to Florida, especially with some of the cops.” He pauses. “But not me.” My mouth is too dry to get any words out. I just stare at him, my jaw hanging open.

“It’s a shame that happened to your husband. I’m sure my buddy in the coroner’s office will also agree. It’ll have to be a cautionary tale, won’t it?” “Yes,” I finally manage. “A cautionary tale.” Detective Connors gives me one last long look. And then he goes back upstairs to join his colleagues. And I realize something incredible. I’m not going to walk out of here in handcuffs after all.

She still doesn’t quite understand what happened to the man she called her father and she hasn’t asked. She’s just relieved he’s gone.

“I always told him,” she says, “how important dental hygiene is. I told him he had to brush every night, and when he didn’t, there would be a punishment. There’s always a punishment when you break the rules.” What? What is she saying? “Evelyn…” “If you don’t take care of your teeth,” she continues, “then you lose the privilege to have teeth.” “Evelyn?” “Andy knew that. He knew that was my rule.” She lifts her eyes. “When I pulled out one of his baby teeth with pliers, I thought he understood.” I stare at her, too afraid to speak. Too afraid of the next words that will leave her mouth. And when they finally come, it takes my breath away: “It’s such a shame,” she says, “that he never really learned. I’m glad you stepped up and taught him a lesson.” My jaw is hanging open as Evelyn makes one last adjustment to her son’s white shirt collar. Then she walks out of the funeral home, leaving me behind.