Chapter 135

“You bastard! Micah, I lost a child because of you. Do you have any idea what that did to me, physically and emotionally? And after all that, you still dare to doubt me?” Emma’s voice shook with anger and unshed tears, her features twisted as she lashed out and desperately tried to steer the conversation away from herself.

Micah pressed his lips together, silent.

“You bastard! You absolute bastard!” Emma pounded on his chest, then spun on her heel and stormed off.

The boutique manager, ever professional, hurried after her. “Miss Windsor, the dress you’re wearing—”

Emma froze mid-stride, glanced down at the expensive gown she’d forgotten she hadn’t paid for, then pivoted furiously toward the fitting room. She tore off the dress, tossed it carelessly on a bench, snatched up her purse, and marched out.

Katrina emerged from her own fitting room, already changed.

“Ivy, let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah.”

The manager, not ready to give up, rushed forward with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Miss Ivy, we’ve just received the latest collections and some exclusive pieces from the runway. Would you like to try them—?”

“I just said,” Ivy replied coolly, “your store’s clothes… they’re not worth it.” Turning to her friend, she added, “Let’s see what’s across the hall.”

The boutique across the way was their usual competitor– and today, Ivy seemed happy to take her business there.

Micah finally snapped out of his daze and hurried after Ivy as she headed for the exit.

“Ivy, if you were innocent all along, why didn’t you just say so? Thank God you’re healthy– Mom and Dad will be so relieved when they hear!”

Ivy didn’t even glance at him. “Now you believe me? You treated me like I was poison before.”

Micah’s face flushed. “Ivy, I’m sorry, I just… it’s just that you had all those—”

“Mr. Shepherd,” Ivy interrupted with a dazzling, icy smile, “your uncle already told you not to bother me again. You—aren’t worthy.”

Micah stopped in his tracks, his face turning stiff and pale.

Ivy, finally free of him, let herself breathe again and stepped into the luxury boutique next door. She went on a spree– clothes, shoes, handbags, jewelry– spending over a hundred thousand dollars without batting an eye.

In the end, the store manager herself, along with several sales associates, personally escorted Ivy and Katrina to their car, helping carry their mountain of shopping bags, faces glowing with flattery and envy.

The entire scene was watched by the rival boutique’s manager and sales staff, their eyes practically green with jealousy.

As Ivy opened the trunk to load her new purchases, she couldn’t help but notice Micah and Emma, who were also heading to their car at the same time. Her arms were loaded with shopping bags; Emma’s, conspicuously empty. And they were still arguing.

“Emma, I bought so much today. Want me to give you something?” Ivy asked, cool and aloof behind her sunglasses, her voice dripping with mockery.

Emma, halfway into the car, clenched her jaw so hard she nearly cracked a tooth, slammed the door, and didn’t say a word.

Micah stood by, staring at Ivy from across the parking lot, longing etched in his eyes.

But Ivy didn’t spare him a single glance. Once her things were packed away, she slid into the backseat and told the driver to go.

Katrina grinned. “Emma’s little web of lies is finally starting to unravel. I wonder how Micah and the Windsor family will react when the truth really comes out.”

Ivy smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Maybe they’ll still pity her…”

Katrina scoffed. “I doubt that. One day, your family will be begging for your forgiveness, mark my words.”

“Maybe,” Ivy said, her smile fading. “But even if they kneel, it won’t change a thing.”

Her heart was already dead; there was no bringing it back.

Honestly, none of this had been planned. She’d just wanted a rare day out, and had stumbled right into Emma. Who would’ve guessed Emma would walk straight into disaster, all on her own?

Emma probably wouldn’t dare tell the Windsor family she’d run into Ivy today– let alone that Ivy was perfectly healthy. She’d keep them in the dark for as long as she could.

Unless, of course, Micah decided to spill the truth.

Her phone buzzed with a string of WhatsApp messages. Snapping out of her thoughts, Ivy glanced at the screen. It was Dr. Handsome messaging her privately.

Dr. Handsome: Mrs. Smith, what do you think of the market today?

She hadn’t even checked the trading floor yet– though she had posted her pre-market analysis that morning. Hadn’t he read the forum?

The image of Dr. Handsome– a forty-year-old middle-aged man– flashed through her mind. Not in the mood for small talk, she ignored the message.

But today, he was particularly persistent.

Dr. Handsome: Are you ignoring me on purpose? Is it because of my age?

Ivy snorted, lips curling in a cold smile.

If you know, why bother asking?

Dr. Handsome: You’re looking at your phone right now, aren’t you? Rolling your eyes at me?

Ivy stiffened. Was he psychic?

Of course, Jamison couldn’t read minds– he’d just figured out Ivy’s alternate account. After a call from his nephew, he knew she was out shopping and likely had time to kill. He couldn’t resist the urge to tease her, using the market as an excuse.

Busted. No point pretending she hadn’t seen the messages.

Mrs. Smith: I posted my pre-market analysis this morning.

Dr. Handsome: Too vague. Couldn’t make sense of it.

Mrs. Smith: [eye roll emoji]

Mrs. Smith: Aren’t you a doctor? Don’t tell me your diplomas are fake.

Dr. Handsome: Med school was tough. No time to learn anything else.

Mrs. Smith: Can’t help you, then.

Dr. Handsome: Just got paid. How about you pick two stocks for me, Mrs. Smith?

Mrs. Smith: That’s not how this works.

Dr. Handsome: I know, but aren’t we friends? No need to be so strict.

Ivy eyed her phone, amused. Friends?

Mrs. Smith: Since when are we friends?

Dr. Handsome: You’ve asked me for help a few times already. Surely that counts for something?

On his end, Jamison– cool and handsome– allowed himself a faint smile. This girl really had it in for men his age.

She’d been polite enough before. But ever since she’d learned he was forty, her attitude had done a complete one-eighty.

Ivy considered it, but still refused to recommend any stocks. Even if it wasn’t illegal to give a friend a tip, she didn’t want to risk it. If he lost money because of her advice, she’d never hear the end of it.