02.0
“You,” I pointed at the older one, Matt. “Go get the watermelon.”
In the future, he
was destined to be a ruthless, decisive tycoon. Besides his own sister, the only person he would ever
care for was his “true” mother, the woman my husband was about to bring home.
But right now, he was just a freshly hatched chick, all fluff and indignation.
He plopped down on the Persian rug, his expression one of pure humiliation, and watched as I lounged on the sofa with my legs crossed.
“Feed me,” I commanded.
His eyes widened in disbelief, his little mouth trembling with indignation. But in the end, he resigned himself to his fate, stabbing a piece of watermelon with a fork and lifting it to my lips.
“Matt, was it?” I said between bites. “From now on,
all your
snacks are mine.”
“Butler,” I called out, “have all these chips, gelatin cups, and beef jerky sent to my room.”
Matt’s chubby chin quivered.
www
As the prized heirs of the Sterling family, these two had more money than they could ever spend. Everything in their lives was top–tier. i’d heard their drinking water was freshly melted snow from the Alps, rich in minerals, and their veget- ables were grown by a specialist with a Master’s in agriculture to ensure they were organic and pollution–free.
In short, they were well–fed, with a high percentage of prime–grade chub.
My plan was to start with all that baby fat.
Mission #1: Get them in shape.
“You’re breaking your promise!” Matt cried, his eyes welling up with tears. He puffed out his chest, trying to be the prot- ective older brother as he shielded Monica behind him.
“You said if we gave you our allowance, you wouldn’t torment us!”
At his words, Monica burst into a full–blown wail.
Hmm?
There was an allowance, too?
My eyes lit up. I suppressed my inner glee and added slowly, “The allowance is still due.”
I paused for effect.
“And the snacks are mine, too.”
The color drained from their faces. I could practically see them clenching their tiny fists in helpless fury.
I laughed, a triumphant sound filling the room.
I knew it.
Snacks were the key to every child’s soul.
Matt wasn’t giving up. “This is abuse! I’m telling Dad!”
(Oh, really?) I thought.
You said it, kid. Don’t back down now.
Abuse was exactly what I was aiming for.
Hahaha…
Go on, tell him. The louder, the better!
