The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 41

The Housekeeper’s Loyalty

Mrs. Helen stared at Alina for a long time with an expression full of internal conflict.

Twenty years.

Twenty years Mrs. Helen had worked for the Blackwood family. Twenty years of keeping secrets, following orders, not interfering in family matters that weren’t her business.

Twenty years she had endured with good pay, health benefits for her sick husband, and a secure future for both her daughters.

But the woman before her now was no longer the graceful and gentle lady of the house she once knew. No longer the woman who smiled warmly when giving Christmas bonuses to all the staff. No longer the woman who remembered her daughter’s birthday and sent handmade gifts–a knitted doll with the name “Sarah” embroidered by hand.

The woman before her now was someone cornered. Desperate. Dangerous in a quiet and calculated way. And Mrs. Helen knew–with every instinct she had–that if she refused this request, Alina would find another way. A way that might be more dangerous. More reckless.

At least this way, Mrs. Helen could ensure Alina wasn’t completely alone.

“Alright,” Mrs. Helen said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ll buy it for you.”

Relief was clearly visible on Alina’s face–brief but genuine.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Mrs. Helen, thank you so much.”

Mrs. Helen smiled thinly, stopping the thanks with a firm gesture.

“But Ma’am must promise me something,” she said in a tone she rarely used–the tone of a mother, not a servant. “Ma’am must be careful. This family has resources Ma’am can’t imagine. If they know Ma’am has a way to communicate outside their control-”

She didn’t need to finish the sentence.

They both knew the consequences.

“I’ll be careful,” Alina promised. “I promise.”

Mrs. Helen nodded–hesitant but resolved–then picked up the tray of untouched porridge.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll bring it tomorrow afternoon. When I go for the monthly shopping.”

“Thank you.” Alina’s voice was stronger now. More alive.

Mrs. Helen stopped at the door, looking back.

“Mrs. Blackwood,” she said quietly, “whatever Ma’am is planning… I hope Ma’am knows wh

Alina looked at her with eyes that were no longer empty.

know, Mrs. Helen. For the first time in five years–I truly know what I’m doing.”

That night, Mrs. Helen couldn’t sleep.

Ma’am is doing.”

She lay beside her husband who snored softly—a man with heart disease, whose medical costs were fully covered

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by the Blackwood family. A man whose life depended on the health insurance from Mrs. Helen’s job.

If she was caught helping Alina, she would be fired.

No severance package. No reference. No health insurance.

Her husband would die within six months without those expensive medications. 1

Mrs. Helen knew the risks.

But she also knew something else.

She closed her eyes, allowing the memory she had suppressed all this time to resurface.

Five years ago.

Alina had been married to Daniel for only two weeks. Still awkward in this large mansion. Still trying to find her place among the staff who had worked for decades and the Blackwood family who were cold as marble.

Mrs. Helen remembered that morning–Alina’s first morning coming down for breakfast alone because Daniel had already left for the office at five a.m. without telling her.

Alina sat at that long dining table, alone, staring at breakfast prepared for two.

Not eating. Just sitting there with eyes trying not to cry.

Mrs. Helen, who was tidying the dining room at the time, almost said nothing. Not her business. Not her place.

But then Alina turned, smiled–a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and said, “Mrs. Helen, does your daughter like dolls? I just learned to knit. Maybe I could make something for her.”

A woman who had been married only two weeks, who had just been left by her husband in the morning without a word, offering to knit a doll for a servant’s daughter she didn’t even know.

Mrs. Helen remembered the shock she felt. Remembered how she almost refused–not proper, too much–but Alina had already stood up, already smiling wider, already saying, “Please tell me her favorite color. I’ll start today.”

Three weeks later, Alina gave her a blue rabbit doll with the name “Sarah” embroidered on its ear.

Mrs. Helen’s daughter slept with that doll every night until now.

Four years ago.

Mrs. Helen was severely ill–high fever, couldn’t stand. Other staff suggested she go home, rest, but Mrs. Helen couldn’t. Not with the mansion cleaning targets that had to be completed before Margaret came to visit.

Alina found her passed out in the second–floor corridor.

She didn’t call other staff. Didn’t tell security to take Mrs. Helen home.

Alina herself helped Mrs. Helen to her room. She herself changed the sweat–soaked sheets. Alina even sat beside the bed with a cold compress, measuring temperature every hour, making sure Mrs. Helen took medicine and ate porridge.

When Mrs. Helen fully regained consciousness the next day, she found Alina asleep in the chair beside the bed, still holding the thermometer.

Margaret care that morning. Found dust on the stairs. Marble not polished perfectly.

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Alina got scolded. Alina was blamed for “not supervising the staff properly.”

Mrs. Helen tried to defend, tried to say it was her fault, she was the one who was sick-

But Alina stopped her with a small smile. “It’s okay, Mrs. Helen. Just rest. I’ll take care of it.”

Then Alina spent the entire day cleaning the mansion alone. The lady of the house cleaning toilets, mopping floors, polishing marble until her hands were blistered.

Mrs. Helen cried in her room that day.

Three years ago.

Junior’s third birthday.

Alina spent a week preparing a small party–just the three of them, as Daniel requested. Homemade chocolate cake because Junior was allergic to food coloring. Transformers robot decorations because that was Junior’s obsession that month. Carefully chosen gifts–a set of wooden blocks to train his motor skills.

That morning, Junior woke up incredibly excited. “Mama! Mama! Today is Junior’s day, right?”

Alina smiled, kissing the top of the boy’s head. “Yes, sweetheart. Today is Junior’s special day.”

“Papa coming?” Junior asked with sparkling eyes.

“Papa promised to come home early today,” Alina answered, though in her heart she wasn’t sure.

But Junior believed. Junior always believed.

The afternoon passed. Evening came. The sun began to set.

Daniel didn’t come home.

Junior sat by the window, staring out, waiting for Papa’s car that never came.

At seven p.m., Alina’s phone rang. A brief message from Daniel:

“I have an important meeting. Can’t come home tonight. Just celebrate without me.”

Alina stared at that message for a long time. Then looked at Junior who was still sitting at the window with his small hands pressed against the glass.

Mrs. Helen, who happened to pass by, saw Alina’s expression. Saw the way the young woman bit her lip to keep from crying.

“Ma’am…” Mrs. Helen didn’t know what to say.

Alina shook her head. Took a deep breath. Then walked to Junior with a forced smile.

“Junior, sweetheart,” she called gently. “Papa has important business. But Mama is here. We’ll celebrate together, okay?”

Junior turned with eyes already watering. “Papa not coming?”

Papa sent hugs for Junior. Papa said Junior must be happy today.”

Junior was silent for a moment. Then nodded slightly a three–year–old who had already learned not to be too

disappointed.

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“Okay. Junior happy with Mama only.”

They ate cake together. Sang birthday songs with voices too quiet for a room that large. Opened gifts with forced enthusiasm.

Junior fell asleep in Alina’s lap that night, still holding his new Transformers robot, with traces of dried tears on his cheeks.

Alina sat in that dark room, holding the sleeping Junior, feeling her heart break for the little boy whose birthday was ignored by his own biological father.

Mrs. Helen, who peeked from the door, saw Alina crying silently while stroking Junior’s hair.

Saw the way Alina whispered, “Mama promises to always be there for Junior. Always. Papa might be busy, but Mama will never leave Junior.”

And Mrs. Helen knew then–Alina wasn’t just a stepmother to Junior.

She was his real mother.

The only one who truly loved that boy.

Two years ago.

Junior was hospitalized for pneumonia.

High fever for three days. A cough that shook his small body. Lips that began to turn blue from lack of oxygen.

Alina panicked and took Junior to the hospital in the middle of the night. Alone. Because Daniel was out of town on a business trip and wouldn’t answer his phone

Mrs. Helen remembered that night–receiving a call from Alina at two a.m., the young woman’s voice trembling.

“Mrs. Helen, Junior is in the ICU. He–he can’t breathe properly. They said his pneumonia is severe. I’m alone here and I don’t know what to

Alina’s voice broke, replaced by sobs she couldn’t hold back anymore.

Mrs. Helen went straight to the hospital even though her shift had ended. Found Alina sitting outside the ICU with a pale face, red eyes, trembling hands.

“He’s too small to be alone in there,” Alina whispered in an empty voice. “He must be scared. He must be looking for me, but I can’t go in because the doctor won’t allow i

vit.”

Mrs. Helen hugged her. Let Alina cry on her shoulder tears that had been held back too long.

Daniel only came the next day. Noon. After his meeting was finished.

Junior was already stable by then. Already able to breathe on his own. Already smiling faintly though weak.

Daniel went in briefly. Five minutes. Stroked Junior’s head. Said, “Papa has to go back to the office. You be a strong boy, okay,”

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