No One Recognized Me After Beauty Treatment Chapter 1

Walking through the front doors of the estate after my medspa appointment, I noticed every single staff member stopping dead in their tracks to stare at me.

A wave of smug satisfaction washed over me. I laughed lightly.

"I just went in for a chemical peel and some laser therapy. I didn't get a face transplant. Are you all really going to stare at me like that?"

But the smile froze on my face when a heavy broom handle came swinging at my head.

"Who the hell are you? Why are you dressed in the Madam's clothes?"

The sharp crack of wood against my shoulder instantly extinguished any good mood I had left. Pain flared down my arm.

"Have you all lost your minds? You don't recognize me?"

Jessica, one of the younger maids, sneered at me with absolute disgust.

"You put on her designer clothes thinking you could seduce the boss and take her place? Keep dreaming! Mr. Wentworth wouldn't touch a cheap streetwalker like you with a ten foot pole!"

Before I could even process her words, Thomas, the head butler, rolled up his sleeves and shoved me hard in the chest.

"Crawl back to whatever gutter you came from! Get out before I have the guards break your legs!"

My head spun. I frantically dug into my purse, pulled out my compact mirror, and stared at my reflection.

I was completely stunned.

I had spent five hours and forty thousand dollars at the clinic. My face hadn't changed at all. Even the tiny blemish near my hairline was exactly where it had been this morning.

My stomach dropped. I lost all patience for whatever prank they were pulling.

"Enough! Stop messing around. Just leave me alone, I have a headache."

Even though I was the heiress who owned this entire estate, I had always treated the staff like family. I joked with them constantly. I thought this was just a tasteless gag.

But as I turned to walk up the grand staircase, a pair of rough, calloused hands violently grabbed the collar of my silk blouse.

"Speak! What is your agenda here?" Thomas demanded, his voice turning lethal. The eyes that used to look at me with grandfatherly warmth were now filled with pure venom.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

This man had worked for my family for thirty years. He watched me grow up. When I was seven, he literally threw himself over me to block a pot of boiling soup from scalding my face.

Now, he was looking at me like I was a monster.

The other servants began closing in, grabbing heavy brass bookends and fireplace pokers. The groundskeeper actually raised a pair of sharp pruning shears.

Panic seized my throat. I desperately fumbled with my designer bag and pulled out my driver's license.

"It's me! Victoria! We literally had breakfast together this morning! Thomas, stop playing games, this isn't funny anymore!"

Thomas snatched the bag from my hands. He dug through it, and his expression darkened into pure rage.

"So you not only impersonate her, but you steal her wallet too?" He spat on the marble floor. "If we don't teach you a lesson today, you'll think the Wentworth family is full of fools!"

Two massive security guards lunged forward, pinning my arms behind my back like I was a violent criminal.

The humiliation was unbearable. I thrashed wildly, fighting against their grip.

"Thomas! Have you gone senile? Who pulled you out of the cold when you were begging on the streets? It was me!" I screamed, tears of absolute frustration burning my eyes.

The only response I got was a heavy fist to my stomach.

They beat me, dragged me across the driveway, and threw me out the wrought iron gates like a bag of garbage.

I pulled myself up from the pavement, my entire body aching. Something was terribly, horrifyingly wrong.

I pulled out my compact mirror again and stared at it from every conceivable angle.

It was my face. It was undeniably me.

So why did my entire household suddenly treat me like a stranger?

Did my corporate rivals pay off my entire staff just to humiliate me on my own property?