?<strong>Chapter 136:</strong>


    Judy was incensed by Driscoll’s audacity, the old butler trying to give her orders as if he were some kind of boss. Who did he think he was? Jayden, the man she was supposed to be serving, never asked her to do anything. Why was this old butler trying to tell her what to do? Who did he think he was, arranging work for her like that?


    Observing Judy’s reluctance, Driscoll met her gaze with a steely stare. “Miss Foster, if you don’t want to do this, you’re free to return home. We have no room for servants who don’t pull their weight around here.” His words were cold and calcted.


    Stung by his criticism, Judy’s shoulders tensed. “I can do it. When did I ever refuse?” She snatched the broom from him, her grip tight as if to convey her anger through the bristles.


    Judy had never in her life done anything as menial as sweeping the floor. Treated like a princess since birth, she had been shielded from anything remotely resembling work; her every whim catered to. Yet here she was, sweeping back and forth. The broom passed over the dust on the floor, but Judy’s heart wasn’t in it.


    Driscoll watched Judy’s ineffective sweeping with mounting frustration, his brows knitting into a disapproving scowl. As her attempts to clean continued to fall short, the butler’s patience finally snapped. “If you can’t clean the floor properly, you won’t be eating lunch,” Driscoll dered, his tone firm and unyielding.


    Stung by the threat, Judy’s ire red. “What do you mean? The floor is perfectly clean.”


    Driscoll’s patience had worn thin, his anger simmering just below the surface. “Miss Foster, you should return to your gilded cage. Clearly, you’re not suited to being a servant,” he spat.


    Judy, seething with rage at the butler’s tant disrespect, forced herself to swallow her pride and renewed her efforts, sweeping the floor with exaggerated care and precision.


    Seeing Judy finally relent, Driscoll felt a flicker of relief and quietly exhaled. Straightening up, he addressed her with a stern but slightly more gentle tone. “I have other duties to attend to. I expect this floor to be spotless by the time I return. Don’t even think about cking off. I will know if you do.”


    Judy nodded in reluctantpliance, her eyes locked on the floor as Driscoll turned and disappeared from view.


    Once he left, herpliance vanished. She discarded the broom and began exploring Jayden’s house, her curiosity piqued by a locked door. What secretsy hidden behind it?


    Just as Judy pondered the mysteries behind the locked door, her musings were interrupted by the approach of a vignt maid with a duster in hand.


    “Hey, what are you doing here?” the maid questioned, catching Judy off guard.


    Quicklyposing herself, Judy replied, “Nothing, I’m just finishing up sweeping the floor.” She gestured toward the broom in the corner, hoping to deflect suspicion.


    Her curiosity outweighed any sense of propriety as she deftly extricated herself from the maid’s presence and made a beeline for Jayden’s room. To her surprise, the door swung open with little resistance, granting her uninhibited ess to the private sanctuary of Jayden and Elyse. Without a second thought, she boldly entered, surveying the pristine space before her.


    Feeling bold and naughty, she confidently climbed onto Jayden’s bed, enjoying itsfort and imagining it being hers soon. Just as she began to relish her moment of indulgence, a menacing roar shattered the silence.


    “Miss Foster, where are you?” Driscoll’s voice boomed, his anger palpable in every syble.


    Judy’s quick thinking allowed her to escape the bedroom before he arrived. Upon confronting him, she donned an act of innocent bewilderment, asking, “What’s wrong, Driscoll? How can I help?”


    His countenance remained impassive, his rage palpable as he responded tersely, “Follow me. Mr. Owen wishes to speak with you.”


    Judy’s face contorted ever so slightly. She inquired about the reason behind this unexpected summons, but Driscoll paid no heed, marching towards the study with unwavering purpose.


    Left with little choice, she trailed behind him, her unease mounting with each step. Upon arrival at the study, she was confronted by a familiar face—the maid she had encountered earlier.


    As the maid saw Judy, she pointed at her and cried out, “It’s her! She was trying to get into Mr. Owen’s collection room. She looked at the lock too!”


    The maid thought Judy was a new maid. She had never before encountered a servant so brazen as to try and break into Mr. Owen’s collection room.


    “Judy, I’ve had my doubts about your motives for seeking employment here,” he said, entuating his words with the rhythmic tapping of his fingers against the table. “But now it’s clear that you just wanted to steal from me, isn’t that right?”


    Judy’s shock and indignation were palpable as she tried to defend herself. “No! You’re wrong about me. I never tried to steal anything. That maid is mistaken.”


    Turning to the maid, Jayden spoke with a measured tone radiating authority. “Thank you for your service. You’ve gained a bonus. I’ll handle the rest of this. You may go now.”


    The maid beamed with gratitude, offering a curtsey and replying with a wide smile, “Thank you, Mr. Owen.” After that, she exited the room.


    Jayden looked at Judy and said, “You should have been working, not wandering around. If you didn’t n on stealing anything, then why were you in my room?”


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