My Stepmother Forced Me to Scrub Floors, But My Fiancé Owned Her Mansion

The grand marble foyer of the Sterling estate was silent, save for the rhythmic, humiliating sound of a wet rag scraping against the cold stone. Emily knelt in her pastel yellow dress, her fingers raw as she scrubbed at the dark stain on the floor. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Above her stood Victoria, her stepmother, draped in black velvet and holding a crystal glass with a look of supreme satisfaction. Victoria had deliberately spilled the liquid, forcing Emily to clean it up just minutes before her fiancé, Robert, was scheduled to arrive.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors swung open. Robert stepped inside, wearing a light gray suit and carrying a leather portfolio. He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock as he took in the scene. His beautiful fiancée, whom he cherished above all else, was on her knees like a servant.

Victoria didn't even flinch. Instead, she stepped forward with a smug smile, swirling the liquid in her glass.

"She's just doing what she's good at, cleaning,"

Victoria said smoothly, her voice dripping with malice.

A dangerous silence filled the foyer. Robert's face contorted with a fury so intense it made Victoria’s smile falter. Without a word to her, he pulled out his phone, pressed it to his ear, and spoke with absolute authority.

"Cancel everything. Now!"

Victoria gasped, her smug demeanor instantly shattering.

"What?"

she stammered, taking a step back.

Robert glared at her, his voice cold as ice.

"This house is no longer yours,"

he said. Victoria's face fell in utter disbelief. Emily looked up, her tear-filled eyes wide with shock, as Robert slowly lowered his phone, his stern gaze locked onto the woman who had tormented his bride-to-be for years.