I Was His Wife for 8 Years, He Paid Me Like a Maid Chapter 01
Eight years as the kept woman of New York’s most eligible billionaire.
Eight years before Damon Ashford finally decided I wasn’t producing enough value for what he spent.
So he shipped me off to the Sterling Academy of Social Grace.
First day of class, the instructor asked how much our sponsors spent on us monthly.
I wrote down five thousand, honest to a fault.
My classmate glanced over my service list and went quiet.
Then she said, “You attend business dinners, manage his grandmother, maintain client relationships, and you’re on call twenty–four seven?”
“That’s not being a sugar baby. That’s being exploited.”
I thought about it all night. Then I called Damon. “I’m done.”
He paused. “Is someone at the school giving you trouble?”
“No. My instructor said my rates are so low I’m ruining the market.”
“Vivian said you pour so much money into me every month, and I’ve got nothing to show for it..”
“I think we’re both getting ripped off.”
Damon didn’t follow. “I gave you five million last month. Vivian said it wasn’t enough, so I added two million
this month.”
“And now you’re breaking up with me over five thousand dollars? How much do you actually want?”
I froze.
I pulled up my deposit history. “But I’ve only ever received five thousand.”
“Groceries and my Grandma’s medication all came out of that.”
Silence on the other end.
Then he asked, “Who transferred the money?”
I answered honestly. “Your trusted childhood friend. Vivian Price.”
A second later, I heard glass shatter behind him.
The receptionist at the Sterling Academy checked the roster first. Then she stared at my canvas tote for a
long time.
“Mr. Ashford made headlines when he bought his mystery girlfriend that limited edition bag. And you’re bringing that to etiquette class?”
“I sold it.”
“Bought something else?”
I shook my head. “My grandmother needed heart surgery last year. I was short twenty–six thousand for the
deposit.”
Her expression shifted.
I tugged self–consciously at the strap of my tote.
Damon was overseas at the time. I was afraid going through Vivian for approval would take too long, so I
sold the bag.
I’d only used it once anyway.
I’d rather it became my grandmother’s surgery deposit than sit in a closet.
The receptionist went back to her paperwork, but then she told me there was a materials fee. Six thousand
eight hundred.
“Mr. Ashford only covered tuition. Jewelry appraisal, floral arrangement, and wine tasting supplies are the
student’s responsibility.”
I checked my banking app.
Balance: one hundred seventeen dollars.
One hundred of that was set aside in a separate notebook for Lily’s meal fees.
I shielded my screen and whispered, “Can I pay next month? That hundred is my daughter’s lunch money.”
The instructor Naomi Hayes walked past.
She glanced at my balance, then at my tote. “Damon sent you here without covering materials?”
I rushed to defend him. “Vivian gives me five thousand a month. I should’ve asked about the fees upfront.”
Naomi studied me for a long moment, then told the receptionist to grab me samples.
“Start class first. The fee can wait. Don’t touch your daughter’s lunch money.”
First class was Relationship Value Assessment.
In plain terms, proving why you deserve someone else’s money.
My classmate Aria Vance presented first. Her monthly budget was four hundred thousand. Two galas. Extra
for birthdays.
When it was my turn, I went down the list.
Managing his grandmother. Handling school runs for Lily. Preparing Damon’s wardrobe and medication. Memorizing his clients‘ dietary restrictions. Buying gifts for the Ashford relatives every holiday.
The instructor finally asked, “And how much does he give you monthly for all this?”
“Five thousand.”
Someone in the back blurted out, “Is that a housekeeper’s salary or snack money?”
I panicked. “It’s living expenses. But the house belongs to Damon, so I don’t pay rent-”
Even Naomi went quiet.
My face burned. Not because five thousand felt small.
But because I was suddenly terrified they’d realize Damon sent me here because I couldn’t even spend that
five thousand properly.
Before dismissal, Naomi wrote one line on my evaluation sheet.
Labor doesn’t stop being labor just because it happens inside a relationship.
I didn’t fully understand it.
Damon always said I was terrible with money.
Vivian said I was good for nothing except my face.
So if he was willing to pay for me to learn, I should be grateful.
That evening at Ashford Estate, I brought Grandma three boxes of her favorite peaches.
But at dinner, Damon’s sister Gemma spotted the discount sticker on the packaging and laughed.
“You sold that bag for six figures, and now you’re buying Grandma fruit on clearance?”
“No, it was a bundle deal at the store–they’re perfectly fine-”
I stopped explaining.
Because mentioning the surgery deposit would mean bringing up money in front of Grandma.
She had Alzheimer’s. Her memory was stuck decades back, when the Ashfords were still struggling. The
family never discussed medical costs around her, afraid she’d think she wasn’t worth it.
Eleanor, my mother–in–law, saw I’d gone quiet and told the housekeeper to take the peaches away.
“An Ashford daughter–in–law showing up with clearance fruit? That embarrasses Damon.”
I reached for the fruit bowl, then pulled my hand back.
Lily sat beside me, staring at the white strawberries on the table.
She looked at me first.
Then she whispered, “Mommy, can I have one?”
I was about to grab her one when Gemma pushed the plate away.
“Those are for Grandma. If you want some, tell your mother to buy them.”
Lily immediately shook her head. “I was just asking. I don’t really like them.”
I lowered my head and wiped a small stain from her sleeve.
I couldn’t meet her eyes.
Then Damon’s video call came in.
Eleanor took the phone and complained about me being cheap.
Damon had just landed in London. He looked exhausted, but he didn’t scold me.
He just said, “Don’t cut corners on household things.”
“If you need money, call Vivian. Don’t let the child go without.”
My nose stung.
I opened my mouth to speak, but someone on his end was already calling him into a meeting.
After the call ended, I found Vivian in the parking lot.
She pulled out three hundred dollars and handed it to me.
“Mr. Ashford is handling billion–dollar deals. Don’t bother him with fruit and lunch money.”
“I’m giving you next month’s allowance early.”
I clutched the three bills and whispered thank you.
On the ride home, Lily leaned against my shoulder. “Mommy, can three hundred buy white strawberries?”
I paused.
“After we get Great–Grandma’s medicine, I’ll buy you some.”
