The Wet Nurse's Revenge

After giving birth to my son, I had an abundant supply of breast milk. To earn extra money, my husband suggested I become a wet nurse for his boss’s newborn. But I never expected the boss to make such an outrageous request…

Today was my second visit to Mr. Langley’s home to nurse his infant son. Officially, my job was simply to be a wet nurse.

What shocked me, however, was that Mr. Langley himself asked to drink my milk.

His name was Vincent Langley. My husband, Ryan Evans, worked under him as a construction laborer. Everyone at the site referred to Vincent as "the boss."

Originally, I had been staying in our hometown, caring for our six-month-old son while preparing to return to work once he was older. My mother-in-law would then take over childcare.

Ryan’s family was poor. Between our wedding and building our house, we were already over a hundred thousand dollars in debt. His parents weren’t in good health either.

With Ryan as the sole breadwinner, his construction job barely brought in four thousand a month.

Desperate to ease our financial strain, Ryan heard that Mrs. Langley—Sophia—was struggling with low milk supply after giving birth and wanted to hire a wet nurse. The moment he caught wind of it, he immediately thought of me.

He recommended me to Vincent, who was thrilled at the idea, praising rural women for being clean and reliable.

Vincent offered me ten thousand a month. My job? Visit their home every afternoon to nurse their son, Noah.

After arriving in Seattle, Vincent and Sophia took me to the hospital for a full medical checkup. Once the results confirmed I was healthy, they brought me to their home.

The first time I nursed Noah, I felt an inexplicable bond with him. He was calm in my arms, feeding eagerly.

My performance impressed both Sophia and Vincent. That same day, they rented a small apartment for Ryan and me near their gated community—close enough to the construction site for convenience.

To make things easier, Vincent even advanced me five thousand for the first month’s pay.

When I handed the cash to Ryan that night in his worksite dorm, he hugged me tightly, overwhelmed with gratitude.

We moved into the apartment immediately. Though modest—just one bedroom and a living room—it was cozy and well-kept.

Today, when I arrived at the Langleys’ home, Vincent himself answered the door. Not seeing Sophia around, I grew uneasy.

"Mr. Langley, is Mrs. Langley not home?"

His face lit up with a bright smile. "Emma, Sophia just stepped out to buy groceries."