# Chapter 58: Wendy Takes Control
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 58 of "The Housemaid's Secret" — and oh, what a breathtaking, nerve-shredding chapter this is. We finally see the woman behind the curtain take matters into her own hands, and the consequences are absolutely chilling. If you thought this story was already twisted, just wait. This chapter changes everything.
Let’s dive right into the unforgettable night.
Wendy stands at her door, surprised by the man before her. Douglas, her husband, looks absolutely terrible. He’s lost weight, dark purple circles are embedded under his eyes, and there’s at least two days’ worth of beard stubble on his chin. She blurts out, “You look awful.” Douglas looks up sharply and replies, “Nice to see you too, Wendy.” She tries to soften it, saying he seems tired. He lets out a long, tortured sigh and explains he’s been working around the clock on a new software update. Then he reminds her that she practically begged him to come over in the middle of the night.
But Wendy didn’t call him over for a friendly chat, no. She asks if he brought it, and Douglas holds up that tattered leather briefcase he always carries. The divorce papers. “I hope you’re ready to sign,” he mutters.
Except Wendy isn’t ready to sign. Not exactly. That’s the opposite of why she wanted him there. She leads him into the living room, her body tense, waiting for Russell to emerge from the kitchen and shoot her husband point-blank in the chest. That’s the plan. He’s supposed to do it right when they walk into the room. Right now.
But Douglas manages to make it all the way to the sectional sofa without being murdered. Wendy is quite disappointed.
Douglas sinks into the cushion and puts his briefcase on the coffee table. “Let’s get this over with,” he mutters. But Wendy doesn’t want that. She needs something else to happen. She offers him a drink, quickly volunteers water, and darts into the kitchen before he can protest. She is absolutely furious. Everything has gone exactly as planned up to this moment, except for one crucial detail: Russell needs to kill Douglas, and Russell is nowhere to be seen.
When she gets into the kitchen, she finds him cowering in the corner. The gun is on the counter, and Russell looks like he’s having a full-blown panic attack. He’s clutching the counter with his leather gloves, breathing too quickly, his face pale as a sheet. Wendy hisses at him, “Russell, what the hell are you waiting for?”
But Russell is a mess. He’s been difficult all night. Before Millie even came over, he was threatening to back out with a laundry list of concerns. Is it safe to be shot with a blank? Isn’t that how Brandon Lee died? What if she stabs me instead? Wendy had to talk him through pretending to strangle her during the staged scene with Millie. And after she shot him with the blank, he didn’t die. Wendy thought the hardest part was over. But now he can barely breathe.
“I can’t do it,” Russell gulps. His brow is sweaty, his powerful eyebrows merging together in the center of his forehead. “I can’t shoot him, Wendy. Please don’t make me do it.”
Wendy is incredulous. They spent months setting this up together. They were so careful to come in through the back entrance, to set the scene exactly right. She barely leaves the apartment because she can’t risk running into Millie. She dedicated all her energy to making it look like Douglas still lives there. She even bought a bunch of men’s clothing for Millie to wash, though she stupidly forgot to unfold it all the first day, making them look like psychopaths who fold dirty laundry. She has sacrificed so much. Now Russell is about to ruin everything.
“You are absolutely ridiculous,” she clenches her teeth. “What is wrong with you? This was the plan from the beginning! This is how we’re going to get everything we want.”
But Russell whimpers, “I don’t want this! I just want to be with you.” He crosses the kitchen and tries to wrap his hands around her waist. “We can leave right now. You leave Douglas, I leave Marybeth, and we can be together. We don’t have to kill him.”
Wendy shrugs away from his embrace, furious. If Russell really wanted the same things she did, her husband would have a bullet in his chest by now. “This is the only way, Russell.” But he keeps begging, whimpering like a child, pleading with her not to make him do it.
Oh Lord. Wendy has been in the kitchen far too long. Douglas will start wondering what’s taking so long. She doesn’t have time for a pep talk. She has to take care of this herself.
She grabs a pair of disposable rubber gloves from under the sink, the ones Millie uses when she cleans. She slides them on, then pours her husband one last glass of water. She picks up the gun, hesitates for a moment, then slips it into the pocket of her cardigan. The pocket is large, and the gun fits perfectly. As if she knew she would have to do this all along, because Russell was going to be a big baby and almost ruin everything.
Back in the living room, Douglas is rifling through the divorce settlement papers. He’s been asking her to sign for a long time, and she always refused. She knew agreeing to sign would finally get him to come over. With her free hand, she feels the gun in her cardigan pocket. It’s heavy, straining the fabric slightly. There’s no reason to wait. She could pull it out right now and shoot him dead. But no. She needs to do it right to his face, so it looks like Millie shot him head-on. And part of her wants to watch his face when she does it. She wants him to understand the consequences of messing with her. He tried to take everything from her and leave her destitute. Now he will get what he deserves.
She sets the glass of water on the table before he can notice she’s wearing rubber gloves, then shoves her hands back into her pockets. Millie put away this set of dishes, so her fingerprints will be all over the glass. It’s too perfect.
Douglas mutters that he has a pen in his briefcase. After a moment, he retrieves a ballpoint pen. “Here it is.” Wendy’s fingers are wrapped around the revolver in her pocket. “Okay then. Let’s get this over with, like you said.”
But then Douglas stops. His shoulders sag. “I don’t want it to be this way, Wendy.” She frowns. He tosses the divorce papers onto the coffee table and says, “I love you, Wendy. I don’t want to get divorced—I’ve been sick over it. I don’t care what happened in the past... I’d like to make a fresh start. Just the two of us.”
There’s a hopeful expression on his face. And for a moment, Wendy is tempted. As much as they’ve planned tonight, there’s no guarantee that she and Russell will get away with murder. Her original plan was to spend her life with Douglas. And while she failed to mold him into what she wanted, he’s not entirely objectionable. Most importantly, they will have unspeakable amounts of money. You can be happy with anyone if you have enough money.
“Maybe...” she says. A smile touches Douglas’s lips, and the purple circles around his eyes seem a bit lighter. He explains that he wants to make a completely fresh start. First, he wants to get rid of everything. They don’t need the gigantic apartment or the huge house on Long Island. All that money got in the way of their marriage. He’s spoken to Joe about starting a charity foundation with most of his money. If they’re not having children, there’s so much good they can do. Maybe she can be part of the foundation. They could do it together.
Is he out of his everloving mind? How could he possibly think that’s what she wants? Wendy grits her teeth. “Douglas, I don’t want that. I want to go back to our lives the way it was before.”
But Douglas shakes his head. “But you weren’t happy before. You cheated on me. We were completely disconnected.”
And that’s when it all comes rushing back. Wendy remembers being laughed at by other girls who asked if she found her coat in the garbage bin. She remembers her father hurting his back and going on disability, the payments not enough to keep the lights on, so they had to do everything in the dark with flashlights. Her sisters acted like it was an adventure, but it wasn’t. It was being dirt poor and having nothing.
Douglas will never understand that. He wants to give away all the money she dreamed of when she did her homework by flashlight. It makes her so angry she wants to strangle him with her bare hands, the way Russell pretended to strangle her earlier. Except for real this time.
But she doesn’t need to strangle him. She has a gun in her pocket.
Wendy pulls out the gun, her hand surprisingly steady, and points it at her husband’s chest. His slightly bloodshot eyes widen. He knew things were bad, but not this bad. “Wendy,” he croaks. “What are you doing?” “I think you know,” she replies.
Douglas stares down the barrel of the gun, and his body seems to shrink. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. She thought he might beg for his life, but he doesn’t. There’s a look of resignation in his eyes. “Did you ever actually love me?” he finally asks.
The truth would hurt his feelings. Despite everything, she doesn’t want to destroy him in his last moments. So she simply says, “It’s not about that.”
She’s never fired a gun before, but it seemed self-explanatory. Russell was supposed to do it, but he’s still cowering in the kitchen. So it’s up to her.
The gunshot is much louder than she expected. A powerful bang that echoes through the room long after the gun has fired. The force travels through her arms, into her shoulders, whipping back her neck and head. But her hands stay steady.
The bullet hits Douglas square in the chest. A perfect shot, especially for a first attempt. For a second or two, he looks down at the blood rapidly spreading across his white shirt, realizing what’s about to happen. Then the color drains from his face, and he collapses against the couch. His eyes are still cracked open, rolled up in their sockets. His chest is not moving.
“I’m sorry,” Wendy says softly. “I truly am. I wish we could have made it work.”
Her ears are still ringing when Russell comes running out. The first thing he does is clasp a hand over his mouth. Wendy hopes he doesn’t vomit all over the floor—that would really mess things up when the police get here. “You did it,” he gasps. “I can’t believe you did it.” “I did,” Wendy rises from the sofa and drops the gun on the coffee table. She peels the rubber gloves off her hands. “And if you don’t want to go to jail, I would suggest you get out of here right this minute.” Russell looks like he’s still trying to control his breathing. “You really think you can pin all this on Millie?” A cold, dangerous smile curls across Wendy’s lips. “Watch me.”
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Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating:
Wow. Just wow. This chapter is absolutely explosive. Wendy’s transformation from manipulative wife to cold-blooded killer is chilling to witness. The tension in the kitchen with Russell’s panic attack is almost unbearable, and the moment Wendy pulls the trigger is shocking even when you know it’s coming. Douglas’s desperate attempt to reconcile, his offer of a fresh start and charity, only sealed his fate — and it makes his death all the more tragic. Wendy is terrifyingly calculating, and that final line, “Watch me,” sends a shiver down your spine. This is peak psychological thriller material, and I loved every second of it.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
Next Chapter Prediction:
With Douglas dead and Wendy determined to frame Millie, the next chapter is bound to be pure chaos. Millie has already seen the news report and realized the man on television isn’t the Douglas she knew — which means she’s about to uncover the truth. The pieces are falling into place for an epic confrontation. I predict Millie will connect the dots, realize Wendy is the mastermind, and find a way to turn the tables before the police arrest her for a murder she didn’t commit. Wendy may think she’s won, but Millie is far from finished.
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