Fighting My Cruel Father for My Mother's LegacyChapter 1
After the SATs, I started working odd jobs.
While others were getting their ears pierced, dyeing their hair, and getting manicures, I was busy making milkshakes, washing dishes, and carrying trays.
...
My father, Tyler Smith, had been working in Los Angeles for years, but the money he earned was only enough to cover my tuition fees.
To cover my living expenses, I worked part-time while attending middle and high school. On top of that, unscrupulous employers would often underpay me, claiming I was just a child worker.
Finally, I landed a job in Los Angeles as a cleaner for a wealthy family.
The job offered nearly 3,000 dollars a month and came with free room and board, so I quickly packed my bags and went for the interview.
But why was my father in this mansion?
At first, I thought it was just someone who looked like him, but then I heard Monica Smith, the woman of the house, mention his name.
"Tyler Smith! You've just gotten home for one night, and now you're heading out on another business trip? Leon didn't even get to see you! Are you planning to abandon your son and wife?"
Monica crossed her arms, pretending to be angry, while the man across from her scratched his head. They looked like a happily married couple.
"Come on now, I'm doing all this for our happy life! How about I buy you that new handbag you've been eyeing?"
Wife?
Son?
What's going on here?
The man, carrying a briefcase, had a neat hairstyle, and his suit was perfectly pressed.
The watch on his wrist was worth several hundred thousand dollars, and his thumb sported a ruby ring that symbolized power.
Everything about him was so different from the father I remembered, who wore the same few yellowed shirts every day.
But he also had a burn scar on the web of his left hand, just like my father's scar, which was caused by the hot water I accidentally spilled on him as a child.
I stood there with my luggage, staring blankly at the scene unfolding in the garden.
My clothes clashed starkly with the mansion's luxurious decor.
Monica walked over, a look of disdain on her face.
"Are you here to apply as a maid?"
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.
The blatant disgust in her eyes made me uncomfortable. Before I could enter, she covered her nose and sprayed me down from head to toe with a disinfectant.