The Ex-Wife He Can’t Have novel Chapter 87

"I cooked these dishes with my own two hands. How can you call this 'outside food'?" Judith argued, her voice trembling with indignation.

Mrs. Zeller let out a cruel sneer. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Jarrett, but in this household, anything not prepared in a Quincy kitchen is considered 'outside food.' Besides, who knows if that beef is even fresh? Or if those seasonings are packed with artificial additives?"

Judith was shaking with anger. "I bought this beef fresh from the market this morning! And the seasonings are straight from the grocery store. What doesn't have additives these days? Are you trying to say the food you eat here is magically flawless?"

Mrs. Zeller gave another disdainful scoff. "Actually, yes. Every cut of beef consumed in this house is premium imported stock, flown in internationally. Our seasonings are entirely additive-free, sourced from high-end global brands. Even the vegetables are harvested directly from the Quincy family's private organic farms. We never touch cheap supermarket garbage. But I suppose a woman like you, Mrs. Jarrett, hasn't even heard of such standards. Consider today an eye-opening experience."

The color drained from Judith's face. She genuinely hadn't known any of this. As an ordinary, working-class woman, buying the slightly more expensive brands at the local supermarket was her definition of a luxury.

Private farms and international air-freighted groceries were entirely beyond her comprehension.

Even though Mrs. Zeller was just a servant, her lifelong association with Killian meant she had always enjoyed the finest things life had to offer.

Judith looked at her daughter, utterly humiliated, feeling as though she had deeply embarrassed Jillian.

Jillian gripped her mother's hand firmly, channeling all her strength into the gesture. She then turned her sharp gaze on Mrs. Zeller. "You're right. The Quincy family demands nothing but the best. My mother and I are just ordinary people. There are plenty of luxuries we've never experienced, and today certainly was eye-opening. But allow me to remind you of one undeniable fact: this wealth belongs to the Quincy family. It does not belong to you. You keep saying 'our' food and 'our' house—tell me, is the name on the deed Quincy or Zeller?"

Mrs. Zeller froze, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

"You..." she finally choked out after a long, agonizing pause.

Jillian offered a glacial smile. "It seems that when someone works as a servant for long enough, they start suffering from the delusion that they own the manor. Do I need to spell it out for you? I am the wife of this household. If we're going to talk about who belongs here, my mother and I will always have infinitely more authority than you."

Bang. The front doors swung violently open.

Killian strode in, the cold wind whipping off his tailored coat. He didn't say a single word, but the lethal glare he cast across the room made it abundantly clear how furious he was.

"Mrs. Zeller, you've had a long day. Go rest."

But Judith was technically his mother-in-law. Had he ever shown her even a fraction of an ounce of basic human decency?

Jillian escorted Judith out to the driveway.

"Mom, I'm so sorry."

Instead, Judith's eyes welled with tears as she tried to comfort her daughter. "It's fine, it's really fine. At my age, I've seen every type of person there is. We're not going to lower ourselves to argue with a dog that barks just because its master is behind it. It's just..."

She hesitated, swallowing the rest of her sentence.

She wasn't blind to Killian's icy cruelty toward Jillian, but she was utterly powerless to stop it.

As a mother, she wanted nothing more than for her daughter to be cherished and fiercely loved. But trapped in this nightmare, what could she possibly do?