My Mate Is Now the Hired Help
At the Hunting Festival, Cynthia Whitefang flashes a stack of cash and demands that my mate, Simon Fenwick, become her bodyguard.
"Just accept it, Layla."
Simon flashes his fangs and tells Cynthia to get lost in a rude tone.
Our son, Noah Fenwick, who's chronically poisoned by silver, waves his fists angrily as well to chase Cynthia away.
But I just stare at the stack of cash quietly. Memories of a conversation I had overheard last week surge into my mind at that moment.
That time, Noah was tugging at the hem of Simon's shirt while standing under a tree.
"Daddy, can I keep pretending to be poisoned? That way, Mommy will keep giving me money to treat my poison. I wanna buy gifts for Cynthia!" he said coquettishly.
Simon had replied dotingly, "Of course! But you must remember to never tell Mommy that I'm not hurt. Only when she's filled with guilt will she love us forever."
It turns out that my husband is faking his injury, while my son is faking being poisoned. They've played me like a fiddle the whole time.
I, on the other hand, have to risk my life time and again to earn money just to treat their imaginary illness and wounds. To think that all of my earnings are used on pleasing another she-wolf…
I raise my head, soon meeting Cynthia's confident gaze.
"Okay. You can have him."