“You have a question?”
“We have a maid. Why am I doing my laundry and yours?”
“Your maid, the butler, and the cook are all easily pushing eighty years of life. How is it fair that they work so hard while a young, virulent girl like you sits on her backside planning what to wear to her next party?”
“I do not—”
I raised my index finger and she stopped.
“You will do your laundry. You will sweep your room. You do these things and you may have your music for the patio.”
Hasiba clenched her jaw. Her cheeks were still flushed with indignation, but the message was beginning to sink in. She nodded.
“And the car keys?” she said, flipping the top paper over and back.
“After last night?” I locked my gaze on hers. “Nothing for a fortnight. Then I will decide the terms.”
Hasiba’s mouth was gaping again, but she managed to keep it in check and not utter a complaint.