Ivy’s face tightened instantly. “So it really was arson? Did you find evidence?”

“Yes,” the officer replied, his tone grave. “We’ve identified three separate ignition points. If it had just been faulty wiring, it’s nearly impossible for three spots to catch fire at the same time.”

With that, the officer led them to the three original sources of the blaze, talking them through his analysis.

Baillie’s expression darkened. “Who would want to hurt us like this? Setting a fire on purpose–how brazen can you get?”

Rosetta interjected, “There are security cameras in the neighborhood, aren’t there? Just pull the footage–see who came in and out of the estate tonight.”

The officer nodded. “Yes, Miss Windsor has already filed a report. We’ll get to the bottom of it as quickly as we can. Thankfully, the house was empty, so no one was hurt.”

Ivy said, “If someone had been living here, this fire probably wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

After all, if anyone had been home, who would have let a stranger sneak in and torch the place?

She didn’t say it to blame the Windsor family for moving out–just stating a simple fact.

But Rosetta shot her a vicious look, her voice brimming with accusation. “If we’d still been living here, we might all be charred corpses by now! This fire was huge, and with the wind tonight, there’s no way we could have escaped! Obviously, you’ve made enemies, and now they’re out for revenge–coming after us because of you!”

Ivy looked at her birth mother, feeling the same icy anger and disappointment as always. Just a while ago, Rosetta had been all smiles, trying to cozy up and mend their relationship.

Now, suddenly, her backbone had stiffened, all guilt gone, and she was back to blaming Ivy for everything.

All because Baillie had married into money, and they had a new safety net?

Ivy retorted coolly, “You kicked me out long ago. What kind of idiot would try to get revenge on me, but not even know where I live?”

Her calm, measured words left Rosetta speechless.

Rosetta stammered, “Maybe… maybe they just had old info and only found the Windsor address…”

Ivy gave a cold, mocking laugh, mimicking Rosetta’s twisted logic. “Or maybe you’re the ones who couldn’t stand that the house was still in my name, so you torched it out of spite.”

Baillie’s eyes flashed. “Ivy, don’t you dare slander us!”

Jamison had stayed silent so far–he knew Ivy could handle herself. But when Baillie started shouting at his wife, Jamison’s patience wore thin.

“Mr. Windsor,” Jamison said, voice cool and precise, “watch your mouth. Marrying into money doesn’t mean you’re untouchable.”

His tone was polite, but the warning in his sharp gaze was unmistakable: Even with a wealthy wife, Baillie was no match for the Ludwigs.

Baillie clenched his fists, clearly angry but also wary. The Ludwig family’s status was undeniable. Even when the Windsors were at their peak, they couldn’t compete–let alone now, teetering on the edge of bankruptcy.

Even if he’d swallowed his pride and married into a fortune, Baillie still wouldn’t dare cross the Ludwigs.

The group stood in uneasy silence among the ruins, the air heavy with tension.

Seeing they had nothing more to say Ivy finally spoke up. “Let the police handle the investigation. You all have a new place to live, so this doesn’t really concern you anymore.”

With that, she turned to leave.

But Baillie called out, stopping her.

She turned, her expression unreadable. “Yes, Mr. Windsor?”

Baillie approached, trying to sound businesslike. “The Windsor Group shares in your name–I’d like to buy them back. Name your price.”

Ivy raised her brows, surprised. She hadn’t expected Baillie to bring this up now.

So–he’d managed to charm his new wife, and now he had cash to spare.

She smiled. “The Windsor Group’s stock has been doing rather well lately.”

“But you’re selling, aren’t you? If you don’t want them, I’ll buy them back,” Baillie pressed.

He had a clear plan: With his new wife’s fortune, he could reclaim the Windsor shares, become the majority shareholder, and retake control of the company. With her backing, reviving the family business suddenly seemed possible.

But there was a hitch–Ivy still held a sizable chunk of shares. If she sold them to someone else, he’d be in trouble all over again.

So, swallowing his pride, he had to seize the moment and make the offer himself.

Ivy saw through him in an instant, and offered a piece of advice. “I hear your wife has billions. That’s more than enough for you both to live like royalty for several lifetimes–why bother with the company? If you run it into the ground, you could burn through those billions faster than you think.”

The economy was rough these days. Even big names were going bankrupt left and right; some public companies had lost so much they’d been delisted.

“You’ve been digging into our business?” Baillie snapped, anger flaring. “Ivy, what happened to you? You’re acting all high and mighty, just because you have someone backing you up?”

Ivy let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Who has the time to investigate you? Your wedding was so ostentatious, the rumors were everywhere. I don’t need to snoop when everyone’s talking.”

As long as you have ears, you hear things.

She continued, “Speaking of that wedding–I realized later why you wanted me there. You didn’t come for blessings, or even to laugh at me. You just wanted to send a message to the market, boost the company’s stock price, and cash out at the perfect time.”