Chapter 3

3

I pushed the door open, my face cold as ice.

"Mrs. Chislett, your family begged for this engagement. If you want to break it, fine. But what makes you think we owe you a dime?"

"Furthermore, if Waylan is such a successful businessman, he should know that a verbal engagement has no legal standing. There is no such thing as compensation here."

Every eye in the room snapped toward me.

In the mountains, I wore simple linen clothes that were easy to move in. I hadn't bothered to dress up for the trip home. I was wearing a plain tunic and canvas shoes. My bag was even dusted with a bit of wood shavings and incense powder.

Compared to Waylan and Lyndsey in their designer brands and heavy makeup, I looked like a stray.

The neighbors who used to greet me with smiles now looked at me with pity and disdain. They were convinced Mrs. Chislett was right―I was a total failure.

Even the neutral ones started drifting toward Mrs. Chislett's side. They wanted to distance themselves from the "loser."

Waylan held Lyndsey's hand, his head held high. He looked like talking to me was beneath him. It was a far cry from the boy who used to bring me snacks and beg me to teach him how to draw.

Mrs. Chislett looked at me with pure disgust. She wanted to get rid of a poor relative, but she didn't want to lose that three million.

"Time is money, Sianna! You wasted three years of Waylan's life. You think you can just walk away from that debt?"

"Look at you, looking like a beggar. You probably didn't make a cent in those mountains. Since we have history, I'll be nice. Sell this old house and give us a million as a down payment. You can sign a promissory note for the rest and pay it off over twenty years."

I was so angry I almost laughed.

Over the last few years, the government had given me massive bonuses for the national project. I didn't just have three million. I could have paid thirty million without blinking.

But this was extortion. I wouldn't give her a single cent.

My grandmother saw me, and tears immediately filled her eyes. She grabbed my hand, her body shaking so hard she couldn't speak.

I knew she was terrified. She was a kind soul who didn't know how to handle bullies. She was scared this debt would ruin my life.

I squeezed her hand to comfort her. Then, I took out my phone to call the Director of the local Heritage Bureau.

Mrs. Chislett was clearly here to cause a scene. The Director was a respected veteran in town. If he mediated, things would go much smoother.

But as soon as the call went through and I said my name, he sounded rushed.

"Hello? Sianna? Look, the signal here is terrible. I'm at a meeting in the mountains. Let's talk later!"

He hung up. Mrs. Chislett smirked at me, her hands on her hips.

"Trying to call the Director? You're out of the loop, sweetie. My future daughter-in-law, Lyndsey, just donated twenty thousand dollars' worth of supplies to the local nursing home. The Director is busy escorting city officials on a tour. He has no time for a little carpenter like you."

"Oh, I forgot to introduce you. This is Lyndsey Vance. Waylan's future wife. Her father is the CEO of 'Gourmet Haven,' the biggest restaurant group in the state. She's a famous food critic herself. She doesn't just donate money; she gives free samples to the whole neighborhood."

Lyndsey fiddled with her diamond-encrusted nails. She didn't even look at me. The neighbors, having received her handouts, flashed fawning smiles her way.

Someone even tried to "advise" me.

"Sianna, stop wasting Ms. Vance's time. She has a TV segment to film later. Just be smart. Pay the money, sign the note, and let everyone go home."

I narrowed my eyes. They had planned this well―using money and social pressure to crush us.

But they had no idea who they were dealing with.

I let out a cold chuckle. From my bag, I pulled out a small obsidian box wrapped in silk.