"Yes, Teacher," he said sweetly, his voice dripping with mock respect. "It's a nice scarf. Where'd you get it?"
"Give it back. Right. Now," I warned, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. "Or you're going to regret it."
Patience had its limits, and they were about to find mine.
"Did something hit your neck? It's all red," Jao Phat asked, leaning in to inspect the mark.
"A mouse bit me," I replied with chilling composure.
"Ooooh," he drawled, refusing to let it go. "The mice in this house must be huge. Sounds like we'll need an exterminator."
"Mice live in families," I said coolly, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. "If you really want to deal with them properly, you have to wipe out the offspring too. Otherwise, they'll just keep causing trouble. Don't you think, Jao Peem?"
Jao Peem nodded solemnly, earning a sharp shove on the shoulder from his brother.
"Last night was spectacular, you know," I continued, a small, triumphant smile playing on my lips. "And that was just day one. Your dad is already head over heels for me. It won't be long before I'm giving him the children he actually wants. When that happens, the 'older' residents of that house might find themselves redundant—or even homeless."
"Ms. Kawinthida!" I caught Jao Phat's reflection in the mirror. His jaw was clenched so tight his teeth were practically grinding.
"Don't say another word I don't want to hear," I warned, cutting him off before he could explode. "Or I will claim full authority over everything involving you—your allowance, your big bikes, even the money you waste so freely. I'll take control of every cent. Don't test me. I will do it."
The threat worked instantly. The car fell into a heavy, brooding silence, save for the sulky huffing of a sore loser. Finally, Jao Phat tossed the scarf onto the front seat.
"Is that how you hand something to an elder? Pick it up properly, place it down nicely—and apologize to your teacher," I said, my tone sharp and professional. At the end of the day, I was still their teacher. Who wouldn't be offended by a student behaving this way?
"I'm sorry," Jao Phat muttered, doing as he was told. At least he knew when to retreat.
Did they really think they could outmaneuver a teacher? Dream on. I'd been a teenager myself once—taming a couple of stubborn kids was child's play.
"Good boy. Mommy's proud of you."
By the time we pulled into the school, it was already 7:40 a.m. Another five minutes were wasted circling for a parking spot. Everything in this city felt cramped, congested, and suffocating. This was a prestigious public school—getting into Grade 7 or 10 here was notoriously tougher than some university admissions.
"Thanks, Mom… the Wet Nurse!" the little brats shouted as they scrambled out of the car, bolting toward the gate before I could even get a word out.
Wet nurse, my ass. I was their stepmother, not some hired hand.
Just my luck. My life, which was barely peaceful to begin with, was about to descend into absolute chaos—like a crowded flea market with no way out.