Chapter 131
Jack clearly didn't catch the cold sarcasm and despair in my words.
He was just startled by my suddenly cold expression and tone. His grip on my arm loosened, his mouth drooped, looking a bit scared, but more than that, dissatisfied and stubborn.
He didn't dare shout anymore, but still stubbornly repeated, "I want to go home, I want to go to my own home!"
Looking at him like this, my heart felt heavy.
There was no point getting upset with a child—he was just a reflection of adult intentions.
Left with no choice, I could only give in.
Then, I took a deep breath, holding the very reluctant Milly's hand, and followed behind Jack, who was still fussing about going home, walking once again toward the gate of the Smith Villa.
I thought I'd need to call George again this time, to have him unlock it remotely, or wait for the butler to come out.
To my surprise, when Jack reached the security panel, he naturally stood on his tiptoes, grabbed my hand, and without asking, pressed my thumb onto the fingerprint scanner.
A soft beep sounded.
Then came the mechanical sound of the lock turning and the gate slowly opening inward.
I froze.
My finger was still on the cool scanner, the slight tingling sensation reminding me that what just happened was real.
My fingerprint could open the door now?
When was it restored?
Did George have someone do this?
After the surprise came an even deeper sense of self-mockery and understanding.
Of course.
George was probably tired of me having to call and bother him every time I needed to enter the Smith Villa because of Milly or something else, making him operate it remotely or tell the staff.
For him, this was probably an unnecessary annoyance too.
So, to save trouble and give himself peace, he simply had someone restore my fingerprint access.
Not out of any warmth or guilt, but simply because handling it this way was more efficient and hassle-free for him.
How typically George.
I didn't dwell on this issue too long. I pushed open the door and walked in with the two children.
The familiar entryway, the familiar expensive carpet, the air filled with a cold fragrance.
Everything was still the same, yet somehow everything felt different.
The butler and Linda, hearing the noise, came out from inside.
Seeing me, their reactions were completely different.
The butler's face immediately stiffened, his eyes showing a kind of scrutiny and barely noticeable contempt.
His expression turned slightly cold, and he just nodded formally, "Mrs. Smith."
That greeting held little respect—it sounded more like a formality he had to observe.
Linda was different. Her face instantly broke into a genuinely warm smile. She hurried over, her voice filled with delight, "Mrs. Smith, you're finally back! Milly's here too—haven't seen you in so long, you're getting prettier and prettier, so adorable!"
Milly was very well-behaved. Though a bit timid about this place, she still quietly said, "Hello."
Jack completely ignored Linda's greeting. As soon as he entered, he shook off my hand and ran straight to jump on the living room sofa, bossily shouting at me, "I'm hungry! Go make me food! I want spaghetti! And steak!"
I ignored him.
I'd long been immune to these bad habits Sarah and George had spoiled him with.
Reasoning with him was useless, and satisfying him would only encourage his arrogance.
I turned to Linda, speaking calmly, "Linda, could you please make us something simple to eat? I'll play with them in the living room for a bit."
Linda nodded quickly, "Of course, please rest first, I'll get right on it. Do Jack and Milly have anything special they'd like to eat?"
Jack was still shouting from the sofa, "I want spaghetti and steak! Right now!"
Milly said softly, "Anything is fine, thank you."
I sat down with Milly on a single sofa far from Jack, casually picked up a children's picture book for her to look at, trying to avoid more contact with Jack.
The butler stood to the side, looking at us with a complicated expression, especially giving me a few extra glances. Then he turned around, walked to a corner of the living room, picked up the landline, and began talking in a lowered voice.
No need to guess—he was definitely calling George to report.
"Mrs. Smith is back, she brought Milly, Jack is here too, yes, looks like she's staying temporarily, alright, I'll keep an eye on things..."
His voice came in fragments, but I could imagine the conversation.
In the butler's eyes, I was probably showing up uninvited, shamelessly coming back, right?
After all, Sarah was the one they now considered the lady of the house.
I could never forget the last time I came to get Milly's doll—the butler's fawning attitude toward Sarah, even more respectful than toward George, formed a stark contrast with the lukewarm, even slightly judgmental way he just treated me.
In this house, the only ones who still treated me like the lady of the house were probably just a few old servants like Linda who valued old ties and had soft hearts.
Linda worked quickly and soon had a simple dinner ready—mainly the spaghetti and steak Jack had demanded, plus some light vegetables and soup, worried Milly couldn't handle greasy food.
During the meal, Jack continued to make noise and complain about everything.
I didn't bother with him, just focused on helping Milly eat.
While we were eating, Linda seemed to remember something. She wiped her hands and came over, smiling at me, "Mrs. Smith, that limited edition Barbie doll Mr. Smith bought for Milly last time—the package arrived ages ago and has been in the storage room. Should I get it for Milly to play with now, or would you like to take it with you when you leave?"
Milly's eyes immediately lit up when she heard this, looking at me with anticipation.
My heart stirred slightly.
That was a gift from Violet for Milly—it should belong to her.
I was just about to say yes when Jack, sitting on the opposite sofa playing with toy cars, suddenly looked up, crossed his arms, and loudly said to Milly, "No way, that was bought with my money, you can't take it away, you can only play with it here!"