After They Betrayed Me, I Quit Cold Turkey

I'd worked as the all-around housekeeper for the Carter family for ten whole years, pulling in a cool fifty thousand dollars a month. The very first thing Ethan's fiancée did after moving in was make an example of me to flex her new authority. "A lousy maid like you deserves fifty grand a month? What kind of spell did you cast on the Carters to con them into paying you that? Starting today, your pay gets cut to three thousand dollars. Your only job is to clean the house. You don't need to handle anything else." The entire family stayed dead silent, letting her rake me over the coals without lifting a finger to intervene. I didn't say a single word in protest. I just smiled and signed the pay cut agreement right there. A few days later, the whole Carter household completely fell apart. Crash! Mrs. Carter didn't get her usual pre-bed aromatherapy session from me, so her depression flared up badly and she flew into a rage and smashed up the entire living room. Thud! Mr. Carter didn't eat the custom medicinal meals I always prepped for him, so his gout acted up so badly he had to be rushed to the emergency room. Ethan had a critical cross-border video conference, and without me there to do simultaneous interpretation, the whole multi-billion-dollars project went straight down the drain. His fiancée was so furious she was practically spitting fire. She jabbed a trembling finger at me and shrieked, "Why aren't you waiting on them anymore?!" I gave the agreement in my hand a sharp little shake. "A three-thousand-a-month maid goes home the second I'm done mopping the floors." ***** Thud. A thick stack of financial statements slammed down on the coffee table. "Claire, I went through the Carter family's old accounts. You're just a nanny, making fifty thousand a month. Do you honestly think that makes any business sense?" I lifted my head to look at the speaker. Vivian Brooks, the fiancée of the Carter family's eldest son, Ethan Carter, stood with her arms crossed over her chest, glowering down at me. Rumor had it she was a master's graduate who'd studied abroad, and a hotshot financial executive. Who would've guessed the first "power move" she pulled after joining the Carter family would be targeting me? "Ms. Brooks, my salary was set personally by Mr. Carter ten years ago. That fifty thousand covers all the work I do as a jack-of-all-trades housekeeper," I said in a steady, even tone. "Jack-of-all-trades housekeeper? That's hilarious." Vivian snickered out loud, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're just a fancy maid, right? You pour tea, sweep floors, cook meals. I could go to the labor market right now and hire some middle-aged woman to do all that for three thousand dollars a month. What makes you so special you get fifty thousand dollars?" I ignored her sniping and turned to look at Ethan. "Sir Ethan, is this what you want too?" Ethan locked his phone screen and shifted his gaze away, not daring to meet my eyes. "Claire, Vivian and I are getting married next month. She'll be the mistress of this house, so it makes sense for her to take over all household affairs. The company's been struggling lately, and our household expenses are pretty high. You should be more understanding." Diana Carter, Ethan's mother, blew a fleck of dried nail polish off her fingernail and chimed in slowly. "She's right, Claire. You've been with us for ten years, we practically think of you as family. Talking about money just ruins the good vibe. You're a woman with no family of your own, so fifty thousand a month is really more than you need anyway." Charles Carter, Ethan's father, set down his purple clay teapot and added his two cents. "Claire, young people need to learn to be grateful. The Carter family gave you a roof over your head, you can't just care about money and forget who helped you. Three thousand isn't bad at all. So many new college graduates can't even make that much out there." I stared at this group of people I'd waited on hand and foot for a whole decade, and a cold chill seeped right through my chest. The old master had only been dead six months, and they were already chomping at the bit to throw me out now that I wasn't useful anymore. "Fine." I nodded my head calmly. Vivian froze for a second, clearly caught off guard by how easily I'd agreed. All the snarky insults she'd lined up to throw at me got stuck in her throat before she could say them. "Where's the pay cut agreement? Hand it over, I'll sign it." Vivian pulled out a printed agreement. "Read this carefully. Starting today, your pay gets cut to three thousand. Your only job is general cleaning work. Don't worry about anything else." I grabbed the pen and scrawled my signature on the paper without a second of hesitation. Ethan's brow twitched into a faint frown. "Claire, Vivian is an elite returnee. She's optimizing our household management structure with the flat management structure used by top internet companies. Don't get all defensive about this." I almost snickered out loud. "So, Sir Ethan, flat management structure means paying your staff three thousand a month to do the work of a fifty-thousand-a-month employee?" "That's such a load of crap!" Ethan snapped, raising his voice. "Vivian says this is cost-cutting and efficiency boosting. You got away with making fifty thousand before just because no one in this family knew how to run things, so you exploited the gap." I didn't bother replying, just turned to look at Charles. His face was pale as a sheet, worn thin by his gout. "Claire, don't get all huffy right now," he spoke up. "Ethan has a cross-border video conference tonight for a financing deal worth hundreds of millions. "Do the simultaneous interpretation for him first, and we can talk about all the other stuff later." I jerked my chin at the antique clock hanging on the wall. "Sir, it's six o'clock. The going rate for simultaneous interpretation is three thousand an hour. If you need last-minute service, we'll need to sign a separate contract for it."