Chapter 813

Ivy didn’t go with them. Her presence here was an act of mercy in itself; she couldn’t bring herself to play the part of the loving, dutiful daughter.

Jamison looked at her, his voice gentle. “Should we wait for them, or go home?”

Ivy hesitated for a moment. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“You don’t need to discuss it. Just do what you need to do,” Jamison said, his expression unwavering.

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“It’s about helping the Windsors, isn’t it? We have more than enough money. Do whatever you think is right. I offered you my credit cards before, and you didn’t want them. The offer still stands.”

They were so in sync that words were hardly necessary. Jamison already understood what she was planning.

Ivy intended to pay off the Windsor family’s debts and then send Baillie and Rosetta to live somewhere else. To truly have peace, she needed the Windsors to disappear from Neo Haven for good. As long as Baillie was drowning in debt, he would never be free, and she would always be at risk of being dragged back into his mess. The New Year was almost here, and she didn’t want her family’s drama to cast a shadow over her own home, or worse, to affect the Ludwigs.

Money, for her, was no longer the most important thing. A problem that could be solved with money wasn’t really a problem at all.

About half an hour later, Baillie returned, pushing Rosetta in her wheelchair. A heavy cast encased her right foot. A broken bone takes time to heal; her New Year was going to be a miserable one.

He was surprised to see that Ivy was still there. He kept glancing at her, clearly wanting to say something.

Rosetta, on the other hand, had shed every last bit of her pride. The hatred she had felt for her daughter at the funeral had been replaced by a desperate, all-consuming need. The thought of the debt collectors who harassed them daily, threatening them, sometimes even refusing to leave their temporary home, had transformed her daughter into her last hope.

“Baillie…” Rosetta tugged at her son’s arm, her eyes fixed on Ivy. “Go talk to her. We have to get through the holidays. We can’t be homeless for New Year’s…”

Ivy was surprised. She had been planning to offer Baillie a way out, but it seemed they were already prepared to surrender.

Baillie’s face was a mask of conflict. For a few agonizing seconds, he stood frozen, his pride and his survival instinct at war.

Then, his phone rang, shattering his hesitation. He didn’t need to look at the screen to know it was another debt collector. He declined the call, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over him.

“You said before… that you could arrange things for us… if Mom and I were willing to accept,” he said, his eyes fixed on the floor, his voice devoid of emotion.

Ivy nodded slightly. “Yes, I did.”

He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. “Then… we’ll do whatever you want. Kneel and apologize, make a public statement to the media, anything… on one condition. You have to support Mom. I… I can’t right now.”

At least he still had a shred of decency left. Despite all his failings, he still felt a basic sense of filial duty. Even at his lowest point, his first thought was of his mother.

Ivy was surprised. He wasn’t asking for anything for himself, only for her to support Rosetta.

“I can provide a basic monthly allowance for her,” she replied.

A basic allowance? Baillie looked up, his face a mixture of disappointment and desperation. After a long pause, he asked, “Can’t you… find her a place to live?”

“No,” Ivy said, her refusal swift and absolute. She would provide financial support, but she would not take on the responsibility of caring for Rosetta. That would be a bond she could never break. Rosetta might be remorseful now, but there was no telling what the future held. She would not invite that kind of trouble back into her life.

Seeing the hope drain from Baillie’s face, Ivy knew he was crushed, but he didn’t dare protest. He couldn’t risk her withdrawing even the offer of a basic allowance. The power dynamic between them had completely shifted.

“I can pay off your debts,” she said, her voice even. “I can make the collectors stop harassing you. But there are conditions.”

The flicker of hope in Baillie’s eyes reignited. He looked at her, stunned. “The Windsor Group’s debts… it’s tens of millions. You’d be willing to pay that?”

“I will. But this isn’t charity. I’ll pay your debts, but we will have a legally binding agreement. From now on, I will be your sole creditor. And… I want you and your mother to leave Neo Haven. Find somewhere else to live.”

A faint smile touched Jamison’s lips.