Destroyed Us for Your Bastard? Say Hi to Your Cellmate, Ex! - Chapter 42: Chapter 42
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Quinn wasn't allowed back into the Morrison house until the next day, after being subjected to another round in the disinfectant pool.
"I heard you went to the hotel to earn money? Since you're so eager to work and serve others, you can do it here." Mrs. Morrison sat on the sofa, her contemptuous gaze sweeping over Quinn as she stumbled forward. "I'll pay you ten thousand dollars a day. That should be enough, right?"
Quinn kept her head down, her fingers slightly curled.
She should have refused, but she needed the money. She needed to save enough for tuition so she could finally leave with some security.
"Okay."
Hearing her response, Mrs. Morrison smirked, seemingly satisfied with her submission yet finding it boring. She waved her hand dismissively: "Go to the kitchen. You'll prepare lunch today."
Quinn turned toward the kitchen as Madelyn's laughter followed her: "Mom, can we really eat what she cooks? Growing up in that kind of place, she probably only knows how to make crude, tasteless food."
"If it's bad, she'll make it again until we're satisfied," Richard's cold voice carried. "She has plenty of time."
Quinn didn't look back, silently tying on an apron and beginning to prepare the ingredients.
She was actually an excellent cook.
In her foster parents' home, she had started cooking at six years old, with a beating waiting for any mistake. Later, she had even worked at small restaurants, developing culinary skills superior to most people's.
But whether her food was "satisfactory" wasn't for her to decide now.
Sure enough, when she served her carefully prepared dishes, Mrs. Morrison took just one bite before frowning and spitting it out.
"So salty it's bitter! Are you trying to poison us?!" She violently smashed the plate on the floor, splattering Quinn with sauce.
"Make it again," Richard commanded without even looking at her.
"I'll do it right away." Quinn crouched down, picking up the shattered porcelain pieces one by one, not even noticing when her fingertips were cut.
Not wanting to see the disgust in their eyes, she quickly cleaned up and returned to the kitchen to start over.
The second time, Madelyn said it was too bland, like eating boiled vegetables with no seasoning.
The third time, Richard said the cooking time was wrong, making the meat too tough.
The fourth time, Mr. Morrison said it was too spicy, didn't she know he couldn't eat spicy food?
Fifth time, sixth time...
By the time Quinn finally prepared a meal that barely satisfied them, the kitchen had nearly run out of ingredients. Her own stomach was cramping with hunger, yet no one allowed her to eat a single bite.
The servants stood by, their faces bearing mocking smiles.
"Miss, what are you standing around for? Don't tell me you're thinking about eating? Look at how poorly you've cleaned this floor—it's still filthy." A maid smirked at her, deliberately spilling an entire cup of coffee on the floor. The dark brown liquid immediately spread into a large stain. "Clean it again."
Quinn's hands trembled as she gripped the rag, crouching to wipe up the mess.
The next second, a powerful force shoved her down onto her knees.
"How can you clean properly like that? Don't you know to kneel when scrubbing?!"
She tightened her grip on the rag but didn't turn around, continuing to wipe with tear-filled eyes. Just as she finished cleaning, another servant "accidentally" knocked over the garbage bin, dumping rotting fruit peels and leftover food directly onto her.
"Oops, my hand slipped," the servant said with no remorse. "Sorry, Miss, you'll have to clean up again."
Quinn closed her eyes briefly, then slowly reached up to remove the vegetable leaves hanging from her clothes before silently continuing to scrub the floor.
She knew resistance was futile. Because of their so-called experiment, they would simply decide she hadn't endured enough suffering.
She could only endure.
Suddenly, a pair of elegant high heels stopped in front of her.
Madelyn looked down at her, a sweet smile curving her lips while her eyes remained full of malice.
"Sister, you're cleaning so diligently," she said, while deliberately stepping on Quinn's hand.
Her voice was soft, but the pressure she applied was incredibly forceful.
"I heard you went to the hotel to earn money? Since you're so eager to work and serve others, you can do it here." Mrs. Morrison sat on the sofa, her contemptuous gaze sweeping over Quinn as she stumbled forward. "I'll pay you ten thousand dollars a day. That should be enough, right?"
Quinn kept her head down, her fingers slightly curled.
She should have refused, but she needed the money. She needed to save enough for tuition so she could finally leave with some security.
"Okay."
Hearing her response, Mrs. Morrison smirked, seemingly satisfied with her submission yet finding it boring. She waved her hand dismissively: "Go to the kitchen. You'll prepare lunch today."
Quinn turned toward the kitchen as Madelyn's laughter followed her: "Mom, can we really eat what she cooks? Growing up in that kind of place, she probably only knows how to make crude, tasteless food."
"If it's bad, she'll make it again until we're satisfied," Richard's cold voice carried. "She has plenty of time."
Quinn didn't look back, silently tying on an apron and beginning to prepare the ingredients.
She was actually an excellent cook.
In her foster parents' home, she had started cooking at six years old, with a beating waiting for any mistake. Later, she had even worked at small restaurants, developing culinary skills superior to most people's.
But whether her food was "satisfactory" wasn't for her to decide now.
Sure enough, when she served her carefully prepared dishes, Mrs. Morrison took just one bite before frowning and spitting it out.
"So salty it's bitter! Are you trying to poison us?!" She violently smashed the plate on the floor, splattering Quinn with sauce.
"Make it again," Richard commanded without even looking at her.
"I'll do it right away." Quinn crouched down, picking up the shattered porcelain pieces one by one, not even noticing when her fingertips were cut.
Not wanting to see the disgust in their eyes, she quickly cleaned up and returned to the kitchen to start over.
The second time, Madelyn said it was too bland, like eating boiled vegetables with no seasoning.
The third time, Richard said the cooking time was wrong, making the meat too tough.
The fourth time, Mr. Morrison said it was too spicy, didn't she know he couldn't eat spicy food?
Fifth time, sixth time...
By the time Quinn finally prepared a meal that barely satisfied them, the kitchen had nearly run out of ingredients. Her own stomach was cramping with hunger, yet no one allowed her to eat a single bite.
The servants stood by, their faces bearing mocking smiles.
"Miss, what are you standing around for? Don't tell me you're thinking about eating? Look at how poorly you've cleaned this floor—it's still filthy." A maid smirked at her, deliberately spilling an entire cup of coffee on the floor. The dark brown liquid immediately spread into a large stain. "Clean it again."
Quinn's hands trembled as she gripped the rag, crouching to wipe up the mess.
The next second, a powerful force shoved her down onto her knees.
"How can you clean properly like that? Don't you know to kneel when scrubbing?!"
She tightened her grip on the rag but didn't turn around, continuing to wipe with tear-filled eyes. Just as she finished cleaning, another servant "accidentally" knocked over the garbage bin, dumping rotting fruit peels and leftover food directly onto her.
"Oops, my hand slipped," the servant said with no remorse. "Sorry, Miss, you'll have to clean up again."
Quinn closed her eyes briefly, then slowly reached up to remove the vegetable leaves hanging from her clothes before silently continuing to scrub the floor.
She knew resistance was futile. Because of their so-called experiment, they would simply decide she hadn't endured enough suffering.
She could only endure.
Suddenly, a pair of elegant high heels stopped in front of her.
Madelyn looked down at her, a sweet smile curving her lips while her eyes remained full of malice.
"Sister, you're cleaning so diligently," she said, while deliberately stepping on Quinn's hand.
Her voice was soft, but the pressure she applied was incredibly forceful.
End of Destroyed Us for Your Bastard? Say Hi to Your Cellmate, Ex! Chapter 42. Continue reading Chapter 43 or return to Destroyed Us for Your Bastard? Say Hi to Your Cellmate, Ex! book page.