Chapter 1: The Bucket at My Feet
My Mother-in-Law Ordered Me to Wash a Bucket of the Family's Underwear While I Was Still Wearing My Wedding Dress: "If You Want to Be Part of This House, Learn Your Place"
"In this family, a wife takes care of the men.
If you can't handle that, you still have time to leave."
Those were the first words my mother-in-law said to me when we were finally alone, only a few hours after my wedding.
I was still wearing my white bridal gown when Rosalind stepped into the bedroom without knocking, dragging a blue plastic bucket behind her and dropping it at my feet.
Inside was murky gray water, cheap laundry soap, and the underwear belonging to my husband, my father-in-law, and my husband's brother.
"Wash these by hand," she ordered.
"We don't waste electricity on stupid things in this house.
And tomorrow morning, you'll be up early making breakfast."
For a moment, I honestly thought she was joking.
"Mrs.
Rosalind, I married Grant today.
Nobody hired me to be the family maid."
For the past two years, the Ashworth family had believed I was Isabelle Cole, an orphaned administrative assistant renting a modest apartment in Brooklyn.
What they didn't know was that I was actually the chairwoman of Voss Capital, a private investment firm managing billions of dollars in assets.
I had deliberately hidden that part of my life because I wanted to know whether someone could love me without seeing my bank account first.
Grant had passed that test.
At least, I had believed he had.
He walked into the room after hearing his mother raise her voice.
"Tell your wife to stop behaving like some spoiled princess," Rosalind snapped.
"Isabelle, just do what my mom asked.
Don't start a fight on our first night as husband and wife."
"You seriously expect me to wash your father's and your brother's underwear?"
"My mother did it for years.
Now it's your responsibility."
"Then wash it yourself."
Rosalind gasped in outrage.
"Did you hear how she just spoke to you?
Put her in her place!"
Grant had been drinking.
He grabbed my arm hard enough to throw me off balance.
"Don't ever disrespect my mother like that again."
"Let go of me."
Instead, he sl@pped me across the face.
I tasted bl00d where my lip had split.
I didn't cry.
I bent toward the bucket.
Rosalind smiled, convinced I was finally surrendering.
Instead, I lifted it with both hands and dumped every drop of filthy water over Grant.
"That will be the last time you ever put your hands on me."
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Grant just sl@pped Isabelle on their wedding night — but he has no idea who she really is.
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What happens when the Ashworths find out the truth about Isabelle Cole?
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