Chapter 173

The present Emmalie felt utterly unfamiliar to Thea. Grandpa's absence necessitated greater circumspection, observation, and caution.

Thea carefully sealed the envelope. By the time she returned it to the box, tears streamed down her face. She opened the stack of photographs—mostly snapshots of her and her grandfather, with some family portraits. One showed her and Emmalie at age four, their innocent eyes wide as they wreaked havoc in Grandpa's garden. Their grubby, mud-splattered faces beamed when they were discovered. Emmalie hid behind Thea, both grinning at the camera. Thea's gaze, however, lingered not on their smiles, but on Emmalie's slightly chubby hand, which bore a ghastly scar.

Long-buried memories flooded back. One day, while everyone slept, Emmalie had sneaked into the kitchen, attempting to showcase her culinary skills. The servant who was boiling water had left, resulting in a severe burn on Emmalie's hand.

The following year, Thea was abducted and sold. Upon her return, the once-adorable Emmalie had undergone a drastic personality change. Her arms were remarkably fair, the scar vanished without a trace. Thea was intrigued. Could a scar that severe really disappear completely? However, lacking evidence, she didn't dwell on it. A DNA test confirmed Emmalie's parentage. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, she thought.

Thea's thoughts swirled as she sorted through the items and replaced them. She discovered a hidden compartment containing a note: "As expected of the child I raised. True to form, you've found it." Tears welled in Thea's eyes; she wept, her shoulders shaking. Grandpa had gone to extraordinary lengths for her. He anticipated the Rowland family's scramble for the box after his death, so he'd placed worthless items on top.

Thea composed herself. Grandpa had left a considerable inheritance, including ten percent of the scattered shares of the Rowland Group. Max had been vying for these shares, unaware they would end up in Thea's possession. Coupled with her birthright shares, she was now a minor shareholder with a voice in the Rowland family—a pity, given their reluctance to relinquish what rightfully belonged to her. There was no need to rush; she would proceed cautiously.

A cold glint flashed in Thea's eyes. She continued her inspection, discovering a small company in Silvercreek involved in raw stone acquisition. It possessed a promising mine, but its output was inexplicably low. Joshua had a reason for leaving this to her. A note explained:

"This small company, though it can't rival the Rowland Group, should suffice for your livelihood. Thea, I'm old. I can't offer more, nor influence others. I can only secure your future. If you leave the Rowland family, this will be your foundation. Don't worry about the company; it's your grandmother's, overlooked and forgotten. I haven't much time left, Thea. Take care of yourself. Don't worry me."

Thea took a deep breath and neatly stowed everything away. She decided to visit Silvercreek to clear her head before discussing her divorce with Nicolas. As this thought crossed her mind, a knock came at the door. Nicolas had returned. Thea's heart pounded. A strange emotion spread within her.

"Thea?" Nicolas called. "I know you're in there. Come out. Let's talk."

Thea hesitated before standing. She forced her voice to remain flat and indifferent. "I'm resting. We can talk another day."

Nicolas insisted. "Today. It's important."

Thea opened the door to find Nicolas looking fatigued, as if he'd rushed back, with a chill about him and the faint scent of nicotine. His self-control had always been impeccable; this state clearly indicated deep worry over Stephanie's situation.

Before he could speak, Thea said, "Whether you believe it or not, Stephanie's accident has nothing to do with me. I didn't anticipate it, and I won't make excuses. I simply want to clarify. If you don't believe me…"

"I've already located the driver," Nicolas interrupted.

Thea felt relieved. "That's good. Handle her affairs as you see fit." She wanted to tell him not to worry about her feelings; she no longer cared about love. She planned to live well, as Grandpa Joshua had advised, and those who owed her would pay.

Nicolas sighed. "I came to tell you I'm sending you away from Key Biscane. You can choose where, but don't return—for now."

This shattered Thea's composure. "What do you mean?"

Nicolas's gaze was calm. "Exactly what I said."

"Why?" Thea struggled to maintain her composure. "Do you suspect me in Stephanie's accident? Setting aside that it has nothing to do with me…"

Just because she owed him a favor, even though she knew this request was excessive, she had no choice but to comply. She was too agitated to notice the turmoil in Nicolas's eyes—guilt, heartache, and a hint of lingering love. He reached out to wipe her tears, then hesitated and withdrew his hand.

He took a deep breath. "I know this isn't fair, but I've decided. I'll send someone to take you wherever you want to go. It's not forever, just temporary."

Thea didn't look at him. Her voice was hoarse and cold. "I don't need you to send me. I'll leave. And where I go is none of your concern. My return is also none of your concern."