[5] You Are All Fired!!! Mother Hen!

Clara pulled Sophie closer, pressing the little girl gently against her chest as the child’s sobs shook her small body.

“Shhh…” Clara murmured softly, her voice low and comforting as she rubbed the girl’s back in slow, steady strokes.

“It’s okay… you’re safe now. Mommy is here.” She let Sophie cry without interruption, holding her patiently while the storm of tears slowly passed.

Several minutes slipped by before Sophie's loud sobs gradually weakened into quiet sniffles. Her small body relaxed bit by bit against Clara’s chest until the trembling finally eased..

Only then did Clara gently lift the girl’s chin and wipe away the damp streaks on her cheeks. “Good girl,” she murmured warmly. “You were very brave for telling me.”

Carefully brushing away the remaining tears with her fingers, Clara placed Sophie back onto the couch. “Stay here, sweetheart,” she said with a reassuring smile.

Sophie looked up at her with wide eyes, and Clara added softly, “I’ll handle the rest.”

Then Clara stood up and turned. The moment she began walking toward the butler, the atmosphere inside the room changed instantly.

The warmth that had filled the air just moments earlier vanished as if it had never existed, replaced by something far colder and far more dangerous.

Each step she took was slow, measured, heavy.

Mr. Grayson felt his throat go dry as he instinctively stepped backward. One step. Clara stepped forward. Another step. He stepped back again.

Slowly, the distance between them shrank while the maids nearby felt chills creeping down their spines.

Something about Clara’s expression made their hearts pound nervously. This wasn’t the Clara they knew. The old Clara would have blamed the children, accused them of sneaking around, and punished them for disobedience. But the woman walking toward the butler now looked like a furious mother hen ready to tear apart anyone who dared hurt her chicks.

Clara stopped directly in front of him, her icy gaze sharp enough to cut glass. “Was what Sophie said the truth?” she asked quietly.

The butler swallowed nervously. “I… Madam… I...”

SMACK!

Clara’s palm struck his face with a loud crack that echoed through the hall, snapping his head sideways.

Gasps erupted among the servants, but Clara wasn’t finished. She grabbed the front of his collar and yanked him forward until the fabric tightened painfully around his neck. “Answer the damn fucking question,” she hissed, her voice dangerously calm. “Was what Sophie said the truth?”

The butler trembled violently now, his earlier arrogance completely gone. “Yes! Yes, Madam! It’s true!” he blurted out desperately. “But I didn’t mean to hurt them! They were stealing food, so I asked why! I thought maybe you hadn’t given them permission!”

Clara slowly turned her head toward the couch where Lucas and Emily stood beside Sophie. The two children immediately lowered their heads again, their expressions filled with shame, fear, and long-ingrained habit.

Clara turned back to the butler.

SMACK! SMACK!!

Two more slaps landed across his face in quick succession, making him stagger backward in shock.

“Madam!” he cried, clutching his cheek. “What was that for?!”

Clara stared at him in disbelief. “You dare ask me that?” she snapped, fury shattering the calm mask she had worn moments earlier.

Her finger shot toward the couch where the children sat. “Those children have more rights in this house than even I do! This is their father’s house! Their father’s property! Their home!” Her voice echoed through the mansion like thunder.

“They are the young master and young misses of this house! And you servants should be worshipping the ground they walk on!” She stepped closer again, her eyes blazing. “How dare you punish them for wanting food?!”

The butler’s face had gone pale.

Clara tilted her head slightly and asked in a dangerously calm tone, “No, wait! Tell me something… did you eat this morning?”

He hesitated before nodding weakly.

SMACK! Another slap struck his face. “How dare you eat,” Clara hissed, “while expecting them to go hungry?!” Her voice turned colder as her gaze swept slowly across the entire room. “And why were they not given dinner last night?” she demanded. “I may not have been the best stepmother before… but even I never deprived them of food.” Her eyes hardened like ice. “Who gave that order?”

Silence fell. Not a single servant spoke.

Clara slowly looked around the room, and every head immediately dropped. “I see,” she said at last, her lips curling into a cold smile. “Good! Just great! Because none of you will be working here anymore.”

The servants froze as her next words detonated in the living room like a bomb. “You’re all fired!!!”

For several seconds no one reacted, as if their minds had frozen. Then panic erupted. “Madam, please!”

“Give us another chance!”

“We didn’t do anything!”

Several maids rushed forward before dropping to their knees. “Madam, please forgive us! We were just following orders!”

“Please don’t fire us!” Their voices overlapped in frantic pleas while tears streamed down their faces.

One young maid clutched the hem of Clara’s dress and cried, “Madam, I have a sick mother at home! If I lose this job, my family won’t survive!”

Another bowed repeatedly until her forehead nearly touched the floor. “Please show mercy, Madam! We will never do it again!”

But Clara didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. Her expression remained completely cold and unmoved.

In her previous life, she might have softened, might have hesitated, might have believed their excuses, but not now.

Not after hearing a five-year-old child say she had gone hungry. Not after discovering the children of the Lockwood family had been treated worse than stray dogs.

Clara slowly looked down at the maid clutching her dress, her gaze icy. “I said leave,” she stated calmly. There was no anger in her voice, only absolute finality.

The maid froze instantly as fear spread across her face. Everyone in the room understood at that moment that Clara Whitmore was not bluffing. She meant every word.

Then suddenly another voice cut through the chaos. “You can’t fire me!”

Everyone turned toward the speaker. It was the butler. Mr. Grayson had recovered enough from the slaps to straighten his uniform and lift his chin stubbornly despite the redness still swelling across his face.

“You don’t have that authority,” he insisted.

Clara slowly turned her head toward him again. “Excuse me?” The two simple words made the temperature in the room seem to drop.

But the butler pressed on nervously. “I was appointed by Old Madam Lockwood herself! She personally brought me here to work for Young Master Jade!”

Several servants nodded subtly because everyone knew it was true.

Mr. Grayson had served the Lockwood family long before Clara married into it and had always boasted about being Old Madam Lockwood’s trusted man, which supposedly meant even Clara couldn’t dismiss him easily.

For a moment Clara said nothing. Her face remained completely blank as the silence stretched.

Then suddenly she laughed. The sound was sharp and unexpected, echoing strangely through the massive living room.

Some servants exchanged uneasy glances while Vanessa, still sitting on the floor with red swollen cheeks, slowly lifted her head.

A faint, smug smile appeared at the corner of her lips. Yes… she knew exactly who the butler was talking about. Old Madam Lockwood, Jade’s mother, the most powerful woman in the entire Lockwood family and the one person Clara had always feared.

Vanessa had witnessed it many times. Whenever the old lady visited the mansion, Clara would instantly become quiet and obedient, never daring to raise her voice or argue.

Which meant the moment her name entered the conversation… Clara would have no choice but to back down.

Vanessa straightened slightly, satisfaction blooming inside her chest. 'Let’s see how arrogant you act now.'

But Clara’s laughter slowly faded. When she spoke again, her voice sounded completely different. “Oh… that old hag?” The way she said those two words sent a chill through the entire room.

Clara stepped forward slowly and locked her gaze on the butler. “Go tell that old bitch…” Her voice dropped lower, colder, each word pronounced slowly and clearly. “…that I’m coming for her next. She should wait for me and not die before I dig her grave with my bare hands.”

The entire living room fell into stunned silence. Even the servants kneeling on the floor forgot to breathe. Had she just, called Old Madam Lockwood a bitch?

Vanessa’s smug smile vanished instantly, her eyes widening in disbelief. Clara had just openly insulted the most powerful elder of the Lockwood family. Had she completely lost her mind?

But Clara didn’t look insane. If anything, she looked terrifyingly calm, because she remembered something very clearly.

In her previous life, the so-called loving grandmother of the kids had been one of the worst people tormenting those children.

Every cruel word. Every cold order. Every punishment. The old woman had always claimed she was “disciplining” them, “strengthening their character,” “teaching proper behavior,” but in reality, she had simply been cruel.

Clara remembered one scene vividly: Lucas had accidentally spilled tea during a family dinner, just a small mistake any normal adult would have ignored, but Old Madam Lockwood had ordered the eight-year-old boy to kneel outside in the courtyard for three hours in the freezing winter wind.

Emily had once been locked inside a dark storage room for an entire night because she spoke out of turn during a conversation.

And little Sophie… Clara’s hands slowly curled into fists as another memory surfaced.

The old woman had once called the child a “useless burden” simply for crying too loudly.

At the time Clara had watched silently, believing it wasn’t her place to interfere, believing it was “family discipline,” believing it had nothing to do with her.

The memory now made her stomach twist with disgust. 'What kind of coward had I been?'

Clara slowly exhaled and turned her gaze toward the couch where the three children sat together.

Lucas was staring at her cautiously, suspicious, but also… hopeful.

Emily held Sophie’s hand tightly while the exhausted little girl leaned against her sister.

Clara’s heart softened. In her previous life those children had grown up surrounded by coldness, neglect, and cruelty until eventually they stopped believing anyone would ever protect them.

Even their father stopped paying much attention to them after his beloved wife and the kids mother died. He had been so broken that he couldn't care for his kids properly.

"What an asshole! But I still love him!" Clara thought.

But things were different now. This time she was here, and she wasn’t going to let anyone hurt them again. Not the servants. Not Vanessa. Not Jade’s own mother. And definitely not even herself.

Clara turned back toward the servants kneeling on the floor, her expression hardening once more. “I’ll say it one last time,” she declared firmly. “Pack your things… and get out of this house.”

The servants stared at her in horror. “But Madam...!”

“Now! I will give you your last paycheck. And then I don't want to see anyone of you here in my house.”

The statement cut off every protest. No one dared argue further. Because they feared what she might do to them if they persisted.

And anyone who dared touch those children again would face the full fury of a mother protecting her chicks.