I Fixed His Martyr Mom With My High Self-Worth Chapter 02

I Fixed His Martyr Mom With My High Self-Worth Chapter 02

Talk was cheap.

We put it in writing.

After we signed, Derek took me straight to the mall and bought me a whole new wardrobe—his treat.

The day before the holidays, we drove to his place. The first thing he’d done after striking it rich was buy a massive mansion and move his mom in.

We stood at the front door. Derek took a deep breath and said, “Brace yourself, Miss Shaw.”

He pushed the door open.

Instead of the luxury interior I’d expected, the place was crammed floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes and plastic bottles.

A faint, musty stench hung in the air.

My smile froze.

Living in a mansion and hoarding trash—the old lady had some unique hobbies.

“Now you see what I’m dealing with,” Derek muttered under his breath.

“Derek! You’re home!”

Soon his mother, Margaret, came shuffling out from the back.

She was dressed plainly, wearing a cheap apron from some grocery store promotion.

She looked less like the lady of the house and more like the hired help.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend, Pearl.”

I put on a smile. “Hello, Mrs. Carter. I brought you a little something.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! What’s the point of buying things for an old woman like me? Come in, come in.”

She led me inside, chattering as we went. “Sorry about the mess. Hope you don’t mind.”

A mansion this size, and she’d turned it into a landfill. What a waste.

I couldn’t hold back. “Messy? That’s putting it mildly. I’d think I walked into a dump if I didn’t know better.”

I turned to Derek. “So this is how you welcome me? Trash everywhere, really giving me the full intimidation treatment. You want me to call my dad and tell him about this?”

Derek and I had planned ahead—I was playing the daughter of his biggest business partner, so she’d have to take me seriously.

Derek turned on his mom. “Mom! I told you to stop bringing junk into the house!”

“Junk? This is all recyclable—it’s money! You young people have no idea how to save,” she muttered, looking wounded.

“Call a cleaning crew right now. I’m not spending the holidays in a landfill.”

I pulled out my phone and booked cleaners immediately.

“No, wait! You can’t throw this out—it’s all cash!” Margaret rushed forward to stop me.

Derek grabbed her arm.

“This is Mr. Shaw’s daughter. Don’t cross her. Her father could sink my company with one phone call, and we’d lose this house to the bank. Then you’d be back to picking trash for real.”

The cleaning crew showed up with a truck.

They worked from sunrise to sundown, finally hauling every last bit of junk out of the house.

Margaret stood by like a ghost, hollow-eyed, watching her empty mansion.

I shot her a look and turned the screw. “Mrs. Carter, I’ll let this slide for now. But don’t let it happen again. Once I move in, this house stays spotless. I don’t tolerate mess.”

“Unbelievable. The daughter-in-law lording it over her mother-in-law,” she muttered under her breath.

I pretended not to hear. This was nothing.