Elizabeth’s frown deepened, memories tugging at her like an unwanted tide. In the early days of her marriage to Elijah, Oliver had relentlessly pursued her, his calls incessant. He shamelessly leveraged their shared bloodline to demand favors—insider stock tips, business deals, even high-society invitations for Yara to secure a wealthy husband. But Elizabeth had never been one to dance to anyone's tune, least of all Oliver's. Her refusals were unwavering. When it became clear he couldn't manipulate her, Oliver dropped the pretense of fatherly affection. Two years passed without a word between them. And yet, here he was, calling out of the blue. The timing wasn't lost on her; their recent encounter, coupled with news of her impending divorce, had likely piqued his interest.

The phone buzzed persistently, threatening to stop. She hesitated, weighing her options, before answering. Her tone was frosty, devoid of civility. "What is it?"

Oliver began with a façade of paternal concern, his words subtly laced with criticism. "Two years without returning home, and now that you've ascended the social ladder, you've forgotten your father. You truly have a cold heart…"

As Oliver's harsh words filled the phone, Elizabeth subtly moved the device away from her ear, her gaze drifting to the car window. On the sidewalk, an elderly man assisted a young woman emerging from a store, her arms laden with grocery bags. With gentle care, he offered her an ice pop and relieved her of the heavy bags, allowing her to enjoy her treat as they walked. Their striking resemblance clearly indicated a familial connection. Though the daughter appeared to be Elizabeth's age, her father's eyes still saw her as a child needing protection. Unlike this tender scene, Oliver was nothing like that caring father.

Elizabeth withdrew her gaze indifferently. On the other end of the line, Oliver's tone shifted, growing less caustic, though the undertone of calculation remained. "Yara told me you and Elijah had some sort of public spat about the divorce. Is it because of his ex?" He paused briefly, then continued, more as if pondering aloud than speaking to her, "You know, I've been thinking… marrying into a wealthy family isn't as glamorous as people think. At the end of the day, one can only rely on their own blood and flesh. We're the ones you can truly count on. You'll probably get a nice settlement, right? Speaking of which, Yara's been eyeing a Porsche 911. It's not that pricey. If you buy it for her, I'm sure she'll be grateful."

Elizabeth clenched her jaw, a bitter laugh threatening to escape her lips. She had anticipated an unpleasant call, but this level of audacity was unexpected. Her family's shamelessness knew no bounds—they were practically salivating over the money they assumed she'd receive from the divorce. Oliver's feigned concern, a thin veil over his manipulative intentions, was grotesque and hypocritical. At that moment, she questioned whether she truly shared the same blood as Oliver.

The sun poured through the car window, bright and golden, yet an icy chill crept through her veins. Her mind drifted to Elijah, and a memory surfaced unbidden. Once, he had shielded her from her family's relentless demands. Back then, he had been her refuge after her mother's passing. But now, even that had crumbled.

Elizabeth inhaled deeply, pushing the wave of sentimentality aside. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was as cold and sharp as a blade. "Yes, Elijah and I are divorcing. And I'll leave with nothing. So don't bother wasting your time on me."