My Second Marriage with the Mafia Kingpin novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Into Women As Well

Days later, Betty slowly adjusted to her new role.

Since she had "resigned" as a maid and was hired as Ashley’s secretary, she moved out of the maid quarters and into her own room within the territory. With more space to herself, Betty found it easier to focus on the tasks at hand.

Ashley needed to ship some soil as "samples" for her partners—those who had invested in her company to give her a head start. Betty only learned that on her second day, initially assuming the money Ashley was using came from Lucian’s pockets.

That had been a shock, of course.

Betty smiled faintly as she held a stack of inventory sheets when whispers reached her from down the hallway.

"That good-for-nothing bitch! I knew it! This is why she’s been defending her!"

"Did she think she’s better than us just because she’s not wearing the same uniform anymore?" another snorted. "But good for her. Once that woman loses the master’s favor, both of them will be kicked out."

"Gosh! All this time, I thought Betty wasn’t that stupid. Turns out she’s even worse."

"Stupid? Well, that woman she’s been sucking up to is also an idiot."

"Didn’t you hear? The guys said this whole thing is just a waste of money. This renovation is draining Dominion dry."

Betty bit her lip as she glanced down the hallway, spotting the same maids who used to bully her into doing their chores. Her hand slowly curled into a fist as she let out a quiet huff.

After spending days at Ashley’s side, Betty’s perception of the madam had changed drastically.

I should say something... they’re all just wrong. The madam is not wasting a dime from Dominion. Even the soil... she’s paying for it.

But before she could think further, her feet moved on their own.

"Birds of the same feather flock—" one of the maids trailed off, catching sight of a figure from the corner of her eye.

Instead of surprise, their expressions shifted into ridicule.

"Oh. It’s you... Madam Secretary."

Betty’s breath hitched at the mocking tone. However, she recomposed herself with a deep breath.

"For your information, the madam isn’t using Dominion’s funds for this project," Betty said, forcing her voice to stay steady. "I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it, but I suggest stopping badmouthing the madam."

The maids exchanged looks... then laughed.

"Sure, sure, Madam Secretary," one of them mocked with exaggerated nods. "Your madam just got rich overnight and can fund all this herself."

"Hahaha!"

"Oh, Betty," another sneered, eyeing her from head to toe, "don’t tell us you actually believe that nonsense?"

They stepped closer as the smiles on their faces slowly faded into something colder.

"Just because you’re not wearing the same uniform doesn’t mean you’re better," one hissed, pressing a finger against Betty’s shoulder.

"What? You think being a ’secretary’ gives you the right to confront us? You wanted to pretend you didn’t hear us? Hah!"

Another jabbed her shoulder more harshly. "Did you really think we’d care if you heard us?"

"Secretary? Hah!" the first scoffed. "Betty, even if your title becomes president, it won’t change who you are."

Her voice sharpened with each word.

"You’re still a loser. A lowly maid who got lucky enough to stay in Dominion, and that’s all you’ll ever be."

Betty’s lips trembled as her gaze darted between them. For a moment... they felt bigger than they actually were.

Or maybe, she was the one shrinking under their words.

"That’s... not..."

"Gosh, you really don’t get it, do you?" one of them laughed as they stepped back. "Let me spell it out for you."

"You think changing clothes and getting a new title means you’ve moved up in the world."

"But no one actually sees it that way."

Another cackled. "Just like your madam—it’s all empty. Even if you cling to it with your pathetic life, it’s nothing but smoke."

With that, they turned and walked away, their laughter echoing down the hallway. Clearly, putting Betty back in her place had improved their mood.

Meanwhile, Betty stood there in silence.

Her grip on the inventory sheets tightened as her breathing grew uneven. The corners of her eyes burned red.

"This is... so frustrating," she whispered. "What made me think I could stand up for the madam if I can’t even stand up for myself?"

*****

"Primo, it’s not like that."

It’s fine, she told herself, exhaling slowly. There’s no need to tell her. It’s not like they’d ever say those things to her face anyway.

My gut’s telling me something’s wrong, she thought. I need Betty focused... at least until that incident.

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