Chapter 10
His spine went rigid, like he was trying to resist temptation, but before he could even finish his cigarette, he gave in to her touch. He quickly stubbed it out in the ashtray.
The next second, without warning, he spun around and swept Tiffany into his arms, carrying her back to the bedroom as she giggled with fake shyness.
Their passionate sounds echoed from the bed for hours, continuing well into the night.
The next morning, Tiffany’s parents had grown bored with exploring the mansion and decided to stir up some trouble.
Seeing how Ethan and Tiffany never left the master bedroom–having Martha deliver all their meals to the door–they figured they could boss the housekeeper around too.
Martha chose to keep the peace rather than cause drama, grudgingly going along with their demands. But once Tiffany’s parents got a taste of power, they quickly started acting like they owned the place. With Ethan too busy screwing their daughter, to notice, they began throwing their weight around.
Tiffany’s father slept until noon, then plopped his feet up on the expensive sofa and yawned: “Same boring food every damn day. I’m sick of it.”
Tiffany’s mother settled into the opposite couch and chimed in: “Yeah, no wonder some people are stuck being maids their
whole lives. Zero common sense.”
When Martha didn’t react and just kept dusting the side table like she hadn’t heard, Tiffany’s mother raised her voice angrily: “I’m talking to you! Did you hear me? Same boring crap every day–do you think you can just half–ass it with us?”
Martha couldn’t avoid them anymore and reluctantly explained: “Mrs. Thompson set up the meal plan when she was here. Since she’s not home and Mr. Thompson hasn’t said to change anything, I’m just following the usual routine.”
When Claire was home, she’d kept everything running like clockwork, so even with her in the hospital, the household hadn’t fallen apart.
But Tiffany’s mother was livid. She glared daggers at Martha: “Don’t give me that crap about Mr. Thompson and his wife. He’s gonna be my son–in–law now, and my daughter’s gonna be the new Mrs. Thompson soon enough. She didn’t set up any meal plan, so from now on, you cook what we tell you to cook.”
“But-” Martha started to say this needed to come from Mr. Thompson himself, but Tiffany’s father cut her off with a
dismissive wave.
“No buts about it. Who wants to eat that bland health food garbage? We want a real feast for lunch today–get moving.”
He waved his hand like this was something that could just magically happen.
Martha had worked for the Thompsons for years and had never heard such a ridiculous request. She shot back: “That’s absolutely impossible! A full imperial banquet is like a hundred dishes–how could I possibly make all that by myself? And even if I could, you’d never finish it!”
She was talking about the traditional Chinese imperial feast with over a hundred courses that even restaurants needed weeks of advance notice to prepare, and she was just one housekeeper.
Tiffany’s father could only think of the most extravagant meal he’d ever heard of, and seeing Martha dare to argue back, he raised his voice: “If you can’t make it, then order it! We’ve got money now, so just do what you’re told like a good little maid!”
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Two Chances, One Bullet: How His “Next Life” Promise Failed
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Chapter 10
He completely forgot that his own daughter had also been a maid–and a much less experienced one than Martha at that.
And Ethan had never actually said he was going to marry Tiffany.
