His Pregnant Wife Was Scrubbing the Mansion Floor While His Mother Watched Coldly

A Mother's Cruel Ultimatum

Patrick rushed to his wife's side, ignoring his mother's protests as he helped Vanessa stand. She was trembling violently, her knees weak from hours of kneeling on the hard floor. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against his chest. The anger inside him was a physical heat, threatening to boil over.

"Explain yourself, Mother," Patrick hissed, turning a glare on Catherine that would have withered anyone else. "Why is my pregnant wife cleaning up a mess on her knees while you watch?"

Catherine set her porcelain cup down on the saucer with a soft, deliberate click. She smoothed the front of her expensive silk blouse, her expression completely unbothered. "Don't take that tone with me, Patrick," she replied, her voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. "I am merely teaching her what it means to marry into this family. She comes from nothing, and she thinks she can just lounge around in my son's house, spending his money without lifting a finger."

Vanessa sobbed into Patrick's shoulder.

"That's not true! I cooked dinner, and she threw it on the floor! She said it wasn't fit for a dog and made me scrub it up. Yesterday, she knocked over the expensive vase and blamed me, making me clean the glass with my bare hands!"

Patrick’s stomach churned. He knew his mother was proud and difficult, but he had never imagined she was capable of such calculated cruelty. For years, Catherine had controlled every aspect of his life, from his career choices to his finances. When he married Vanessa, a kind-hearted nurse from a working-class background, Catherine had openly expressed her disapproval. But this was physical and emotional abuse.

Catherine stood up, her posture rigid.

"She is exaggerating to turn you against me, Patrick. If you want to inherit the family estate and the business, you need a wife who understands her duties. Not a girl who cries over a little housework."