Hired to Be the World's Worst Daughter in Law Chapter 1

I am a walking disaster magnet. It’s a gift, really.

I once helped an old lady cross the street and the rumor mill claimed I was trying to swindle her Social Security check. I was spotted feeding a stray cat outside my apartment, and suddenly I was the neighborhood cat burglar.

My reputation was lower than a snake’s belly, so I figured, why polish a turd? I leaned into it, going full tilt as a professional bad guy.

Does your family need to split up their assets, but someone’s dragging their feet? Is your elderly parent being manipulated by a greedy cousin? Hire me to come in and raise hell. I take the heat, you split the cash. My abrasive manner and sheer grit made me the local nightmare in a ten-mile radius.

Then, the youngest Associate Professor at the city’s top university showed up at my door and asked me to marry him.

“The doctor called it 'Martyr Complex,' but I call it 'Total Doormat Syndrome,'” he sighed. “My mother gives away everything she owns. Our family savings are almost gone. I need the most unhinged, unreasonable, hell-on-wheels daughter-in-law in the state to manage her.”

My eyes lit up. I rubbed my hands together with pure, unadulterated glee. “Say no more, brother. You just cured my fatigue.”

* * *

Gordon Hewitt’s handsome, refined face instantly crumpled. He let out a long, weary sigh.

He pulled a timid, middle-aged woman out from behind him. She was gentle, soft-spoken, and gave me a faint, almost apologetic smile.

“Frankie,” he said, using my chosen name, “I brought my mother, Cecilia Hewitt, so you could meet her.”

He then pulled out a tattered red savings passbook and handed it to me. “Don’t laugh, but this is literally everything we have left.”

I took the book, flipped it open, and my eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets.

“Fifty-seven dollars?”

“I make thirty-four bucks a month working part-time at the diner!” I protested. “You’re a university professor. Your salary has to be close to three hundred. How on earth is there only fifty-seven dollars left?”

Gordon and his mother both looked at me, their eyes red-rimmed and moist.

“Frankie, since my father passed, I’ve been working constantly, traveling for conferences. My mom has been home alone,” Gordon explained. “Every relative, every neighbor, every well-wisher—they all show up. They borrow a little rice today, a little cash tomorrow. They say ‘borrow,’ but they never, ever pay it back.”

He paused, voice thick with worry. “I’m being sent on a three-year lecture tour overseas. I need to leave immediately. If I don’t find a tough-as-nails wife to guard the fort, I won’t just come home to an empty house. I suspect my mother will have been sweet-talked into selling herself off for scrap.”

I nearly fainted in disbelief.

I looked at the handsome, scholarly son and his fragile mother. I sighed, tucking the passbook into my pocket.

“I’ll take the job. I can guard the fort for three years. But you have to let me set the terms. I run a wild operation. I am going to make your aunts, uncles, and neighbors miserable. If I scare one of them into an early grave, you can’t get mad.”

Gordon jumped to his feet, gripping my hand tightly. “As long as the house is safe and my mother is protected, you can do whatever the hell you want.”

My prospective mother-in-law rushed over, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you, Frankie. Thank you for your service.”

We came to an agreement, and less than a week later, we were married.

On the day we signed the papers, Gordon rushed off to catch his flight. I grabbed my battered suitcase and headed for his house.

I reached the front door of the Maplewood Faculty Quarters just as I heard a shrill voice yelling from inside.

“Oh, Cecilia, bless your heart, but you’re from an educated family. You’re going to be stingy about two little apples?”

I peeked through the crack in the door. A smug, heavyset woman—I’d later know her as Donna Mae, the biggest busybody in the complex—was forcibly prying a net bag of apples out of my new mother-in-law’s hand.

My mother-in-law, Cecilia, was pleading softly. “Donna, please, leave me two. I bought them for Gordon’s new wife.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Gordon’s gone overseas! He doesn’t have a new wife,” the woman sneered, stuffing the apples into her apron. “And I heard you bought meat yesterday. Hand that over, too! My little boy, Kevin, is going through a growth spurt!”

Oh, hell no. This wasn't borrowing. This was blatant robbery in a university housing complex.

I dropped my suitcase, strode into the room, and snatched the net bag of apples back.

Donna Mae froze, then flew into a rage, stabbing a finger toward my face. “Who the hell are you? You stray animal! How dare you steal from me?”

I calmly pulled the bright red marriage certificate from my pocket and slapped it hard onto the chipped dining table.

“The name is Frankie Hewitt. I am Gordon’s just-married wife,” I announced, my voice low and dangerous. “I’m stealing from you? No. You’re extorting my mother. Give it back.”

I slammed her against the wall.

“You take one more piece of thread, one more sugar cube, or one more apple from this house, and I will call your boss every single morning until you’re escorted off the property. I’ll make you the neighborhood pariah. Try me.”

The air in the room solidified.

Cecilia’s eyes were wide, her mouth open enough to swallow an egg. Donna Mae, accustomed to rolling over soft targets like Cecilia, had never encountered a rabid dog like me.

Terrified, she wrenched herself free and looked at Cecilia with panicked, accusing eyes. “Cecilia! Look at her! She’s a criminal! Are you sure she’s not lying? Did Gordon really marry this lunatic who just assaulted me? I’m going to call the police!”

Cecilia, who had been hiding behind me, finally found her voice, and it was a masterpiece of defiance.

“Frankie… she’s not a bad person. She is Gordon’s wife. I consented.”

With that official confirmation, I didn’t waste another second. I shoved the slack-jawed Donna Mae out the door.

“Get out!” I spat, giving her a look that would curdle milk. “If I ever see you try to steal from this house again, I will break both your legs.”