Kelly was stunned.
How could this four- or five years old girl possibly know what she was secretly thinking? It was absolutely impossible!
She staggered back several steps, nervously avoiding Jeffrey Smith's gaze.
Jeffrey grabbed her and dragged her to the side. The two immediately began arguing.
"And you two," Hilary pointed directly at Mark and his wife, her small brows furrowed in disgust, "you deliberately didn't buy imported medicine for great-grandma, hoping she'd die early so you could split up the Smith family's inheritance. Tell me I'm wrong."
The couple's expressions changed instantly.
My God, is this really just a little girl? How does she know all this?
Gina had called her sons and daughters-in-law home today, and every single one of them came with an agenda.
She had indeed been seriously ill lately. Since all the family assets were still in her name, they were all convinced she was planning to write a will and divide up the estate.
That's why they'd all rushed back.
What they hadn't expected was for Claire to show up first and with two children in tow.
Six years ago, Gina had secretly given Lara a large dowry, nearly draining the Smith family's finances. This time, they weren't going to let that happen again.
"Sigh, adults are so fake," Adam murmured, watching the ugly faces of the adults with a look of pity.
Gina's hand trembled as she leaned on her cane.
She had clung to a sliver of hope, thinking she could make arrangements for Claire and her children before she passed, to find closure with her late daughter. But now, it was clear. That was impossible.
Claire's eyes were frosted with sarcasm and disdain.
These so-called relatives. She had only met them once in her entire life.
Back when her mother was gravely ill and desperate, not one of them came to help. And now? There was even less reason to count on them.
She had only come to see her grandmother one last time.
Six years ago, after secretly saving Claire, Gina had bought a burial plot and laid Lara's ashes to rest, giving Claire the courage to go on when she had lost everything.
All these years, even while Claire was in Nocta, her grandmother had kept in touch with her, calling often, urging her to complete her studies without worry.
Claire would always be grateful for that.
"Uncle, Aunt, don't worry," she said coldly. "I only came back to visit Grandma. I'll leave right after. As for the Smith inheritance, I don't want a single penny."
She turned and called out loudly, "Adam."
"I am here, Your Majesty!"
"Hilary."
"I am here, Your Majesty!"
"We're leaving."
Claire smiled gently and extended her hands to the two little ones.
The children ran over, their tiny feet pattering across the floor. Each of them grabbed one of her hands.
The trio marched off in sync, heads high and spirits higher.
"Claire, wait!" Gina trembled as she hobbled after them on her cane.
"Grandma," Claire quickly turned and supported her.
"I'm sorry, Claire. I failed to protect you," Gina choked through her tears, gripping Claire's hand tightly as she handed her a black folder.
…
Claire had finally settled in with Adam and Hilary at a small apartment, planning to fly back to Nocta in three days.
As soon as they were settled, Adam darted into the study and opened his laptop.
Earlier today at Great-Grandma's house, people had called them bastards.
At the train station, he'd seen that deadbeat father already had a new woman and child.
He wasn't angry at the relatives.
But that scumbag dad. He had abandoned Mommy and them! That, Adam couldn't forgive!
He had never realized before just how pitiful his mommy had been—uncared for by her brother, unloved by his father.
But now, he was a man. It was his job to protect her!
A few moments later, a face identical to his appeared on the laptop screen—Gilbert Watson, CEO of Watson Group, the richest man in Heidelberg…
Hmph. Heartless playboy. Total scumbag.
Adam glared at the handsome face on the screen and spat the words through gritted teeth.
A sly little grin crept across his face.
In the bedroom.
Claire clutched a photo of her late mother, her fingers gripping the bedsheet so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her eyes burned with a crimson fury.
Earlier today, her grandmother had handed her a black folder before she left.
She had just opened it.
Inside were two items: a document and the secret formula for a unique perfume, a creation her mother had spent half her life perfecting, along with a cherished photograph of her.
After reading the document in full, Claire was trembling with rage, her entire body seized with anguish.
It turned out her grandmother had been secretly investigating her mother's death for years.
Now, all clues pointed directly to Emma and her daughter.
Her grandmother was aging, with little time left. Everything was now in Claire's hands.
Agitated, she stood up and poured herself a glass of red wine, throwing her head back as the dark crimson liquid slid down her throat. She slammed the glass down on the table.
Whenever the pain became unbearable, red wine had been her only solace.
But tonight, one glass wouldn't suffice.
Emma, I could endure everything you've done to me.
But I will never forgive you for taking my mother's life.
After draining another glass, Claire gripped the bedpost, her bloodshot eyes brimming with shadows and cold resolve.
At the age of ten, her father, Ronald Miler, had brought Emma and her mothter into their home, ignoring all objections from Lara.
Five years later, she returned home from school and saw her mother leap from the second floor with her own eyes. Blood had splattered all over her.
From that day on, her mother was paralyzed, bedridden until she succumbed to late-stage uremia.
The perfume store her mother had built with her own hands had been seized by Emma and her mother. Over the years, Emma's incompetence nearly ruined the business, which had only survived thanks to Gilbert Watson's financial backing…
Originally, Claire had planned to walk away from everything for the sake of her children. But now, that was no longer an option.
She shut her crimson eyes.
Gilbert Watson, you'd better have nothing to do with my mother's death. If you do, I will never let you off.
Moments later, she drew a deep breath, unlocked her phone, signed an electronic invitation, and sent it to an email address.
…
The next day.
Watson Group Headquarters.
Gilbert Watson, clad in a custom-tailored suit, sat upright as he led a multinational video conference.
Suddenly, the screen displaying Q1 sales data went pitch black. In its place appeared a massive Ultraman flipping across the screen.
Ultraman blew bubbles from its mouth, each bubble spelling out the word: "Scumbag. Scumbag."
Gilbert's expression darkened instantly, his icy glare terrifying.
"What's going on?" he demanded sharply.
"Mr. Watson, something's wrong. The system's been hacked!"
A hacker?
Gilbert's fury exploded. The idea that the secure system of a multinational corporation could be breached so easily was outrageous.
"Trace it, thoroughly! If you can't find the culprit, you're all fired!"
Just then, his phone rang urgently.
He picked it up.
"Master Gilbert, something's happened. Please come home quickly. The young master has run away!"
Gilbert's face fell. Hanging up without a word, he rushed toward the house.
In the Watson Castle.
In dressing room, Emma was dressed in a fashionable dress, humming a tune as she carefully shaped her eyebrows with freshly manicured fingers.
"Miss Miler," the butler, Mr. Lo, burst into the room.
Emma shot him a cold glance.
"Madam," Mr. Lo corrected himself at once, then said anxiously, "It's not good. The young master is missing. He's run away."
Emma tugged the mirror closer and continued refining her eyebrows. Her tone was indifferent.
"What's the big deal? Honestly, you're all so dramatic every day."