Chapter 108 I am the master and you are the servant
Chapter 108 I am the master and you are the servant
So this was all she had done in three years?
Melvin was speechless for a moment.
He knew that Fiona was mean to her daughter-in-law. Did she deliberately quit all the maids and give her all the housework to do alone?
At that time, every time he came home from work, he saw that the house was clean and the food was well served. No one never cared about the details.
Because the old Freeman forced him to marry Lyra, he always subconsciously chose to ignore her existence, and when his mood was not good, he would even be sarcastic ...
Lyra saw that he was lost in thought and waved her hand in front of his eyes before continuing.
"But you'd better be prepared to use one year mortgage three years, and you'll have to do twice as much."
Melvin shook his head and sneered.
She really can't afford to lose anything.
Lyra walked ahead, did not pay attention to his expression, remembered something, and said, "Oh yes, I forgot to buy a washing machine. So you have to hand wash and dry my clothes in the future. Some clothes have different materials, so you have to separate them. Don't get it wrong."
Melvin stared at her back and wasted no time in tearing down her lame excuses.
"You would go and buy the washing machine yourself? When the house was first transferred to you, I remember a woman named Kellie working her butt off to replace the entire house with a set of furniture
and appliances."
Being seen through, Lyra turned around and gave him a cold glance, not trying to hide it either. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.
Yes, the washing machine was deliberately given to the orphanage by her.
The children in the orphanage needed the washing machine more than he did.
The two made their way into the hall without a word.
Lyra fumbled slightly at the wall and instantly turned on the light with almost a muscle memory.
The living room was bright, and the house was still the same structure, but the furniture and matching style were not the black and white tones of the past.
Lyra headed straight for the kitchen, with Melvin quietly following behind her.
Coming to the kitchen, she took a thick book out of the storage cabinet and handed it to Melvin.
"This is the recipe. You have to follow the book in every meal in the future. Every meal must include meat, vegetarian and soup. Everyday needs to be different. It can not be repeated."
Melvin took it and flipped through two pages roughly.
Seeing that he didn't object, Lyra looked at the time. It was already 8:30 pm and she hadn't been eaten yet.
"Cooking will start tonight. Call me when it's ready. If you wan to sleep, you can choose your own room on the second floor, except for the third floor."
After that she went upstairs to the study. The company still had a bunch of things to do, so she had to work overtime.
Melvin watched her back disappear in the stairs. The breath he had been holding on to slackened. Painfully he arched his back and held on to the table before he could barely stand still.
The blood on the shirt had dried, sticking with the wound, and cannot be torn off.
He wet it with hot water and then used a hot towel to compress for a few minutes before separating the shirt from the flesh and blood a little.
Avoiding detection by Lyra, he quickly took off his shirt and washed the blood away.
If it was before, it was estimated that he was able to wring the clothes to dry. Today because of the injection, he was already very tired.
No way, he can only directly put the wet clothes that barely dry, and then put on the dark jacket. If she didn't look closely, she should not notice.
After doing all this, he already felt exhausted and tired of all his strength.
This special drug was really fierce.
He had not yet begun to do the meal and it had been delayed by half an hour. Melvin had to start studying the recipe.
When he opened the refrigerator, there were all the vegetables and meat, all of which were the freshest.
Obviously, everything today was planned by her a long time ago.
Melvin's eyes darkened, but he didn't know what he was thinking.
Upstairs study.
Lyra sat in front of her computer, concentrating.
Her reality television show now was in its third phrase, and its popularity on the Internet continued to be high.
Since her friend Melissa, who was from the orphanage, went back to continue recording after recovering from her injury, she seemed to be unaffected and quickly get into the state. Her ranking had been stable in the top fifteen. If there was no problem, she should be able to securely enter the final.
Everything seemed to be going in a good direction.
After reading about the reality television show, she called Nancy at the Freeman Manor again.
"I arranged for them to scrub the floor tonight. Sheila screamed so hard and cursed you. I put them back in the basement. Did I do it right?"
Lyra was serious, "No problem. Since they became the servants, you can restrain them with the requirements of servants. If they don't listen to you, you can punish them. But there is only one thing. Pay attention to those male servants. Dirty thoughts are not allowed!"
"Yes, Miss Carroll, you can rest assured that I will manage very properly ..."
Nancy was still reassuring. The window was left open, and Lyra suddenly smelled a burning smell in the air.
It seemed to be ... coming up from downstairs?
She hung up the phone in horror and ran frantically downstairs to see the kitchen in a pandemonium of smoke.
Melvin tried to fan the smoke away while choking on it and coughing.
Lyra was speechless, "I let you cook. You are going to burn the house down?"
She covered her mouth and nose and entered the kitchen. She turned off the stove and turned on the exhaust fan.
After a while, the choking smell just barely dissipated.
She pointed to the pan, which had burned like a lump of carbon, and asked, "What's this frying?"
Melvin answered honestly, "Braised pork chops."
Lyra glanced at it again, and it was hard to recognize the dish!
"You put a pound of soy sauce in this? It's still burnt. The recipe can't even save you. How useless is your craft?"
Melvin said very innocently, "I just do according to the recipe. It says to stew for an hour and a half on low heat. I think it will be too slow so the high heat will be faster, so ..."
"So it is absolutely burnt."
He didn't say anything.
Why did he feel that she was not only talking about this dish, but also meant to scold him?
Lyra looked black and sighed before continuing, "Are you going to let me have this for dinner?"
"I also fried the other dish."
"Where is the dish?"
Melvin led her to the dining room table.
That plate of dish, although looking tasteless, the color was normal. It should be no problem and edible.
Well, she would just have to put up with it.
Seeing that she wanted to try it, Melvin helped her pull out the dining chair and went to the kitchen to bring out a set of tableware.
Lyra glanced oddly at him as he entered and exited the kitchen.
An hour ago he was feeling humiliated and awkward because he had to work, and he'd adjusted so quickly?
And Melvin, who had done all this, stood quietly by. He was too well behaved to speak.
So attentive?
Lyra always felt weird.
Tentatively, she picked up a clear vegetable leaf, but glanced at his eyes which flashed an imperceptible shimmer.
There was a problem.
She frowned and passed it to her mouth again, opening her mouth to eat.
He raised his eyebrows gently and seemed to be looking forward to it.
However, when she looked over, he was back to his cold face.
Lyra put down her chopsticks and curled her lips playfully, "You eat first."
Melvin bowed his head, "Don't dare."
Although the head was bowed, but the attitude was not submissive. So he was really pretending!
She laughed, and her eyes swept harshly at him.
"Now in this villa, I am the master and you are the servant.That's an order. Now come here! Sit down!"