Nora’s delicate face flushed crimson. She glared at the jade bracelet, as if wanting to shatter it.

“See? It’s not yours. Wearing it only embarrasses you,” Cheyenne sneered.

Malaya grasped her daughter’s delicate hand, distressed by the red mark around Nora’s slender wrist. “My precious daughter, your hands are for playing music and drawing. What if they’re injured?”

George, too, looked grim. “Cheyenne, give it to her! Why be so petty? She’s your sister!”

“Sister? Mom only gave birth to me! Nora steals my things and messes up my room without permission—what kind of sister is that?” Cheyenne remained arrogant and domineering.

“I’m taking it off,” Nora said, taking a deep breath and forcefully removing the bracelet. She thrust it into Cheyenne’s arms.

Cheyenne narrowed her eyes, looking coldly at mother and daughter. “Is that all? You owe me far more than this bracelet.”

“What else?” Nora asked.

“My room restored to its original state, with all decorations returned to their proper places! If you don’t remember, I can get a list from Grandfather.”

Though the Edwards family had declined, old Mr. Edwards, Cheyenne’s grandfather, remained prominent in Yrose, not only for his entrepreneurial past but also for his extensive art knowledge and reputation. The antiques given to Selah were handpicked by him, so he possessed a detailed inventory.

Next week, Nora was participating in a prestigious painting competition; first prize included a place at the Royal Academy of Arts in Briyra—one of the world’s top art schools. She was determined to win. Old Mr. Edwards happened to be a judge; if he discovered their theft, Nora would face dire consequences.

The thought of such humiliation darkened Nora’s face. She looked anxiously at Malaya, who was reluctant to return such a large sum of money to Cheyenne.

“Well… Cheyenne, it’s been over a year since you last visited. Finding those things will take time.”

“Fine, one week. One week to handle it! Now, clean my room!”

Cheyenne stood arms crossed at the door, enjoying Nora’s frustration. Damn, this feels good.

George sighed, increasingly annoyed with Cheyenne’s increasingly difficult behavior.

“Okay, I’ll get someone to clean it immediately,” Malaya replied quietly.

Upstairs, noise reached them. A boy approached the door. “Mom, what’s all the noise?”

On the sofa, Nora sobbed quietly; the atmosphere was heavy. In contrast, a woman in a long black dress sat lazily, legs crossed, exuding elegance. Chestnut hair cascaded in delicate curls, held by a single wine-red butterfly bowtie that shimmered. She looked like an enchanting fairy.

This is Cheyenne? They hadn't seen each other in so long—how had she changed so much?

“Sean, you’re back?” Malaya quickly masked her grim expression with a gentle one.

Sean, Malaya and George’s son, was three years younger than Cheyenne. Eighteen years old and a senior at Sunshine High School, he was a notorious school bully, already six feet tall. Despite his pretty face, he was immature and selfish. Cheyenne disliked him; the feeling was mutual.

Seeing his mother’s sadness and Nora’s tears, Sean understood. He stepped forward and shouted at Cheyenne, “Did you bully my mom and sister again?” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FɪndNøvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The shout startled Cheyenne. She lazily rubbed her ears. “I’m not deaf. Your mother and sister are noisy—why blame me?”

What nonsense!

Nora stopped crying, realizing that continued tears would only confirm Cheyenne’s words. She clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm.

Sean was certain of his suspicions; a discarded photo frame in the hallway fueled his anger.

“Cheyenne, you’re a bitch! Who are you to throw away my sister’s things? Get out!”

Those paintings, meticulously crafted by his sister, were now discarded like garbage.

The boy’s furious expression was comical. Cheyenne remained unmoved, flicking a curl, and chuckled. “You want me to leave? I think you should be leaving.”

“What do you mean?” Sean frowned.

“Ask Dad—whose name is this house really under?”

George’s face changed. “This…”

“What? Dad, have you forgotten Grandpa gave this house to you and Mom when you married?”

“The house is in my mother’s name. She’s deceased; I inherited it. Sean, who should leave?”

Malaya and her children were stunned. Nora knew the Edwards family was wealthy, but she hadn’t realized this villa, over 950 square yards, worth at least fifty million, belonged to them.