“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. If you genuinely need money, that’s the logical option. Downsize and pocket the difference.”
Ms. Sterling went quiet, obviously expecting something completely different from this conversation.
Then she smiled, but the smile was crooked and didn’t reach her cold eyes.
“Yes, I suppose so… for now. Maybe I don’t actually have to sell it just yet. Maybe there’s another way to solve my problems.”
She stopped talking abruptly, staring at Kiana with obvious expectation.
Darius was watching her too now, his eyes intense.
Both of them were waiting—waiting for the daughter-in-law to offer to help, to say something like, “Don’t sell your home. Here, take some money. Live in peace.”
Kiana finished her tea in one long swallow and stood up.
“I’m going to change out of my work clothes. It’s been a long day.”
She left the kitchen feeling their two gazes burning into her back—one bewildered and frustrated, one angry and calculating.
In the bedroom, she closed the door firmly and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her hands were trembling slightly, not from fear but from cold, quiet, grinding rage.
They wanted her money. It was completely obvious now.
Ms. Sterling hadn’t come over for tea and pleasant conversation.
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