The Sleeper's Wrath and His Wife's Strike novel Chapter 36

Helen, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, her tone laced with mockery. “Oh, it’s nothing! Just twenty lashes, right? Seems a fair price for the title of lady of the house.”

Lester’s eyes darkened as he shot Helen a cold look. “Since you seem so tough, Helen, why don’t you take those twenty lashes yourself?”

Her feud with his mother had been going on since he was a child. The two women had been locked in open and secret battles for over twenty years.

Now that his mother had been cast out of Quigley Manor, Helen could barely hide her delight.

Helen grinned. “I think I’ll leave those twenty lashes for your mother. I wouldn’t want to deprive her of such a special honor.”

Lester’s face remained stony and silent, but the look in his eyes was downright chilling.

“Enough,” Mr. Quigley Sr. interjected, changing the subject with a wave of his hand. “Let’s put this matter behind us and never speak of it again.” He paused, then continued, “Now that the Quigley family is without a lady of the house, I’ll be choosing one of you three.”

At once, Helen and Bertha’s eyes lit up. Both women looked eagerly at him, each hoping he’d say her name next.

Lindsay, on the other hand, calmly sipped her soup, looking for all the world as if she had no interest in the role at all.

“Mr. Quigley,” Helen said, her face all smiles, eyes narrowing with anticipation, “who do you think is best suited to be the lady of the house?”

Bertha kept herself in check and didn’t speak, but her gaze flicked toward Mr. Quigley, betraying her hope.

To be named the mistress of the Quigley family was like being handed a golden ticket—everyone wanted a taste of that power.

Mr. Quigley nodded. “Take good care of the family, Bertha—and don’t go lining your own pockets like some people have done.”

Lester, who was clearly the target of that remark, sat in stony silence.

Unwilling to give up, Helen tried once more. “Mr. Quigley, why Bertha? I’m clearly more capable, and I have seniority over her.”

Mr. Quigley’s expression was icy. “That arrogance alone makes you unfit to be the lady of the Quigley family. The fact you haven’t been thrown out is mercy enough—you actually think you deserve to be in charge?”

Helen’s face turned a mottled red and white, but she refused to back down. “I was only trying to do the right thing. But as you always say, Mr. Quigley, respect for elders comes first in this family. Bertha is the youngest—how can she leapfrog over me? Aren’t you publicly humiliating me? How am I supposed to hold my head up in this house?”