Chapter 4: New Rules

I was momentarily speechless.

Caleb’s mother was a romantic woman who accidentally married Derek Yu.

After marriage, Derek only gave her money, but she wanted love.

One chased, one ran.

In the end, Caleb’s mother fell ill and died young.

After she died, Derek was depressed for a while, then met the original host, and quickly married her—a gold digger who looked like Caleb’s mother.

I don’t know what illness his mother had or how she died.

But I know, for a child to watch his mother die in loneliness, unable to find his father, must be heartbreaking.

No wonder Caleb grew up and sent Derek to a psychiatric hospital, refusing anyone to visit.

That was already the greatest mercy in his life.

That day, I stayed with Caleb in the little dark room for several hours.

When Mr. Smith opened the door, the light outside stung my eyes.

I reached out to shield Caleb’s eyes.

Mr. Smith was polite, but his eyes were cold and mocking.

“Ma’am is truly kind, but you’d better take care of yourself first. I’ve already reported what happened today to Mr. Yu. He told me that next time, if you interfere again, I can lock you in as well.”

Very good.

He answers the butler’s calls, but not mine.

The original host was probably really just a decoration Derek married.

I glared at him coldly and carried the already sleeping Caleb out.

But Mr. Smith yanked Caleb from my arms and set him on the ground.

Caleb, groggy and unsteady, rubbed his eyes and glared angrily at Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith said seriously, “Young man, you’re already seven, you need to learn to be independent. You can’t let adults hold you anymore, especially women.”

Anger surged in my chest.

Now I finally understood why Caleb was called the cold Buddhist kid and avoided women as an adult—because someone taught him from childhood to despise and trample on women.

Such a tumor, reasoning with him would be an insult to reason itself.

I strode to a table, grabbed a vase, and smashed it hard at Mr. Smith.

My hands shook, but I didn’t let go of the anger. For once, I wanted someone else to flinch.

In my rage, my aim was especially good.

Mr. Smith’s head split open, blood trickling down his forehead.

He stared at me in disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe a newcomer would challenge his authority.

I sneered: “Oh, go complain to Derek, tell him I hit you. Or call the cops, see if Derek will keep you, a twenty-year employee, after you disgrace the Yu family. Or you can hit me—unless you kill me, I’ll go to the media and expose you, let the Yu family be shamed, and see if Derek fires you or divorces me.”

I’ve figured it out: the position of Mrs. Yu is already mine.

Getting a marriage license is easy; getting a divorce is hard.

There can only be one boss in this house.

If I compromise, I’ll end up just like the original host, colluding with them.

But I refuse.

They have only two choices: obey me, or get out.

Mr. Smith’s face darkened, staring at me like an angry beast.

I picked up Caleb again and walked slowly toward the door.

Mr. Smith blocked me, face gloomy.

“Ma’am, where are you taking the young master?”

Caleb clung to my side, tiny hand gripping my wrist. I caught his look—wide-eyed, half scared, half amazed. The old rules had just cracked wide open, and even a seven-year-old could smell it in the air.

I just stared him down, lips curled in a smirk. Let him stew in it.

A stare is a form of power.

Staring is a threat.

If I answer, I give him a chance to refute me.

I say nothing, let him overthink and panic first.

Sure enough, Mr. Smith gritted his teeth: “Ma’am, I don’t mean anything else.”

“Whatever you think, behave yourself. If I could get Derek to marry me, I can get him to fire you. Don’t believe it? Try me. I dropped my phone in the room, go get it for me.”

I ordered bluntly.

Mr. Smith didn’t move.

I sneered: “You won’t listen to me? Old employee?”

Mr. Smith turned to fetch it.

I seized the chance, kicked him in the butt, shoved him into the little dark room, and shut the door.

There was a burst of furious banging from inside.

But the door was soundproofed, so it was barely audible.

Caleb’s eyes widened, sparkling with excitement, but he said, “Is...is this okay?”

“Are you happy?”

“Happy... but this isn’t right. Mom said we can’t treat others like this.”

Caleb was obviously confused.

His mother was a kindhearted romantic.

Other than chasing Derek and causing her own death, she didn’t do anything bad.

So the child she raised even feels bad about taking revenge.

I blinked, turning into a delicate weakling.

“But he bullied us... He locked us up for hours, I’m tired and hungry, and he looks down on women. Do you think he’s right?”

“No.”

“Exactly. When kids do wrong, adults punish them. He did wrong, so we punish him. That’s fair, right?”

“Right.”

Caleb was convinced.

He became calm.

Or maybe, deep down, he’d wanted to get back at Mr. Smith countless times, but never found support. Today, with my help, he released his inner anger.

I think that’s good.

I had a staff member notify everyone: the house would have three days off.

Everyone left happily.

Only Mrs. Lewis, the cook, suspiciously asked where Mr. Smith was.

I looked at her coldly.

“You need him for something?”

“Usually Mr. Smith notifies us about these things.”

I stared at her with a half-smile.

“So you listen to Mr. Smith, not me? Does Mr. Smith pay your salary? I just told Mr. Smith something, now I’ll tell you: if I could get Derek to marry me, I can get him to fire you. Think carefully about who owns this house.”

Mrs. Lewis left with an ugly expression.

Caleb was a bit worried.

“Natalie, Dad really trusts Mrs. Lewis and Mr. Smith. They’ll tell on you, Dad will make trouble for you.”

“Let him try to find us first.”

I packed a few clothes, dragged a suitcase, put Caleb on it, and wheeled him out.

He probably never sat on a suitcase before, so he was very stiff.

His slender fingers gripped the handle tightly, trying to sit up straight, afraid of falling and losing face.

I wanted to laugh, but felt more sorry for him.

“Did your mom ever take you traveling?”

“No, mom always waited at home for dad.”

Romantics are like that: if they can’t reach the other by phone, they stay home, afraid to miss him. But in fact, the other doesn’t want to come home at all, afraid of being clung to.

Life passes in internal strife.

In the end, she let the other go, but died herself.

Leaving only a pitiful child, with no mom, no father’s love, squeezed and twisted into a mess.

“Natalie will take you traveling. Hold tight, sit steady...”

I pushed the suitcase and ran forward.

Caleb giggled.

His little baby voice was so cute.

I called a rideshare, took out cash, booked a discount motel on Priceline, used someone else’s ID to check in, and stayed with Caleb.

Mainly to avoid being found easily by Derek.

Since Derek doesn’t want to answer my calls, let him be. He’ll panic soon enough.

The next few days, I took Caleb to all the famous spots in the city and nearby.

We rode the carousel, went to the aquarium, tried deep dish pizza, soaked in hot tubs, had water fights, climbed hills—so much fun.

During this time, Derek’s assistant called me. I asked his name, saved it, told him to free Mr. Smith when he had time, then blocked him.

Finally, Derek was willing to call me himself.

I let him experience rejection and busy tones a few times, and felt my pent-up anger dissipate.

Caleb was a bit worried.

He looked at me again and again, finally couldn’t help asking,

“Natalie, aren’t you afraid of Dad?”

“No. Is he that scary?”

Caleb hesitated.

“Mom was very afraid of Dad. When Dad came home, he didn’t say a word, and always frowned at Mom.”

That’s emotional neglect.

Caleb clearly disliked his father as a child, but grew up to be just like him, even worse.

Cold, disrespectful, distrustful, stubborn, egotistical—then regretful.

So, women, choosing a good father for your child is the most precious love you can give.

I ruffled his fluffy little head.

“So you have to smile at me often. At home, you’re the only one I know. The others all bully me, your dad won’t even answer my calls. If you don’t talk to me and treat me coldly, I’ll be so sad my heart will break.”

“I promise to smile at you every day.” His little face was solemn.

I quickly held out my pinky, “Let’s pinky swear.”

Caleb was a bit confused. He clumsily held out his finger. I hooked mine with his, reciting, “Pinky swear—break it, you owe me a milkshake for life.”

He didn’t even know this.

He’s already a first grader.

How does he get by at school?

Just then, a cold, angry voice sounded behind me.

“Natalie, what are you doing?”

I looked up and saw Derek Yu.

Heh.

The man who said he’d be on a three-month business trip came back in four days.

That was quick.

As we rolled past the iron gates, I glanced back once—half-expecting the old rules to chase us down. But not this time.