The Greedy Demands

Early the next morning, the grand Sinclair villa was filled with chaotic shouting.

Harold Sinclair slammed his porcelain coffee cup onto the dining table, shattering it into pieces. Hot black liquid spilled all over the urgent fax that had arrived at eight o’clock sharp.

Luxe Paris had formally terminated Nicole’s multi-million-dollar ambassador contract, citing severe copyright violations and fraudulent collateral.

Beside him, Nicole was throwing a massive temper tantrum. She threw her designer phone across the living room, screaming and crying while tearing at her styled hair.

"My contract! My international campaign!" Nicole wailed, stamping her expensive slippers against the marble floor. "Everyone in high society knew I was going to be the face of Luxe Paris! Dane was going to announce it at our engagement party! How am I supposed to show my face now? I want compensation! I want a diamond necklace from the Imperial Auction to make up for this!"

Eleanor rushed to wrap her arms around her golden child, glaring at Harold with sharp, frantic eyes.

"Look at what this stress is doing to our poor Nicole!" Eleanor snapped, wiping Nicole’s fake tears with a silk handkerchief. "Harold, you promised her an unforgettable engagement gift! If the Paris deal is dead, we must buy her that limited-edition diamond set from the high-end boutique downtown! But our primary accounts are frozen from that dock audit... where do we get the three million dollars in cash right now?"

Harold rubbed his temples, his face pale with stress. Then, his eyes narrowed with a sudden, vicious thought.

"The ungrateful wretch," Harold growled, his voice thick with cold greed. "Robin was at the gala last night wearing designer silk. She survived five years in the borderlands—the northern mining and black-market districts pay enormous cash to laborers. That girl must have hoarded every single dollar she earned out there."

"Of course!" Eleanor gasped, her face lighting up with entitled delight. "She lived under our roof for eighteen years! She ate our food! As Nicole's older sister, it is her duty to hand over her savings to make Nicole happy. Let's go to that hotel and take what belongs to this family!"

An hour later, on the top floor of the prestigious seven-star Grand Horizon Hotel, Robin was sitting peacefully in the living room of the Presidential Suite.

She wore a soft, cream-colored silk robe, her long dark hair falling casually over her shoulders. She was sipping freshly brewed Earl Grey tea from a fine bone-china cup, looking out over the panoramic glass window at the sunlit city skyline.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the suite were shoved open with a loud, rude bang.

Harold, Eleanor, and Nicole stormed inside as if they owned the entire hotel floor.

Nicole was scowling, her arms crossed over her designer jacket. Harold looked arrogant, his chest puffed out like an untouchable patriarch. Eleanor marched straight toward the sofa, pointing a long, red-painted fingernail directly at Robin’s face.

"Robin! Get on your feet right now!" Eleanor screeched, her voice echoing off the high ceilings. "Who gave you permission to rent a luxury suite like this while your poor sister is suffering at home?"

Robin didn't flinch. She slowly set her teacup down onto the glass saucer with a delicate, quiet click. She raised her piercing emerald eyes, looking at the three intruders with utter, icy boredom.

"Did nobody teach you to knock before entering private property?" Robin asked smoothly, leaning back against the plush velvet cushions.

Harold sneered, slamming his leather briefcase onto the glass coffee table.

"Private property? Don't act grand with me, girl!" Harold barked, looking down at her with pure disgust. "You owe your entire existence to this family! You embarrassed Nicole and Dane at the gala last night, and this morning Nicole lost an important modeling contract because of the stress! We are here to settle the score."

Robin raised an eyebrow, a faint, mocking smile tugging at her lips. "Settle the score? With what?"

Eleanor stepped forward, resting both hands on her hips with breathtaking entitlement.

"Growing up, you were never allowed to work because your only job was to serve Nicole and take care of this household," Eleanor declared loudly, her voice dripping with fake moral authority. "We fed you, we gave you shelter, and we raised you! Five years ago, we sent you to the borderlands to learn discipline. You worked in the north for five years, and we know you saved up your cash!"

Eleanor held out her open palm, snapping her fingers impatiently.

"Hand over your bank cards and your entire five-year savings right now! Nicole needs a three-million-dollar diamond engagement set to restore her mood and social status! As her big sister, you must pay for her happiness! It is the least you can do to repay our kindness!"

Nicole chimed in, tossing her hair with a smug, cruel smirk. "That's right, Robin! You're just a discarded criminal anyway. What do you need money for? Hand over your savings, and maybe I’ll let you sit at the back table at my wedding with Dane!"

Robin looked at the three of them.

For eighteen years, they had treated her like an unpaid maid. They had starved her, locked her in the attic, forced her to do Nicole’s homework, and made her take the blame for a fatal car crash.

And now, they had the shameless audacity to demand her hard-earned money to buy Nicole diamonds.

A low, musical laugh slipped from Robin's throat.

She laughed softly at first, and then shook her head with genuine, breathtaking amusement.

"You want my savings?" Robin asked, her green eyes turning cold enough to freeze blood. "To buy Nicole diamonds?"

"What are you laughing at, you insolent brat?" Harold roared, his face turning red with fury. "Transfer the money right now, or I swear I will use my authority as your father to have the police drag you back to the borderlands in chains!"

Robin stopped laughing.

She picked up her teacup, took a slow, elegant sip, and looked straight into Harold's bulging eyes.

"First of all, Harold, you are just a pathetic, failing businessman whose company is drowning in debt," Robin said in a calm, razor-sharp voice that sliced through the room. "Second, I don't owe you a single cent. Every scrap of bread I ate in your house, I cooked myself while cleaning your floors. And third..."

Robin picked up her gold-plated desk phone and pressed a single button.

"...you are trespassing on private property."

Within five seconds, the heavy suite doors swung open wide.

Ten towering, muscular security guards in dark tactical uniforms marched into the room, led by Vance. Each guard wore a high-level private security badge and carried a sidearm.

Harold’s eyes went wide with shock. "What is the meaning of this? Do you know who I am? I am Harold Sinclair, CEO of Sinclair Enterprises!"

Vance stepped forward, looking down at Harold with cold contempt.

"We don't care who you are," Vance said in a deep, booming voice. "This entire five-star hotel, including the Presidential Suite, is private property. Our Boss has ordered your immediate removal."

"Wait! No! You can't touch us!" Eleanor shrieked as two massive guards grabbed her by her arms, lifting her feet clean off the plush carpet. "Robin! Tell them to let me go! I am your mother! You ungrateful monster!"

"Get your filthy hands off my designer jacket!" Nicole screamed, kicking her legs wildly as two other guards seized her by her shoulders and dragged her backward toward the hallway. "Daddy! Do something! Make them stop!"

Harold tried to resist, swinging his briefcase at a guard. In a flash, a guard twisted Harold’s arm behind his back, forcing the proud patriarch to double over in agonizing pain as he was marched toward the private elevator.

Robin sat on the velvet sofa, completely relaxed, taking another sip of her warm Earl Grey tea as the screaming and cursing faded down the corridor.

DING!

Down on the ground floor, the private VIP elevator opened directly into the bustling, grand lobby of the Grand Horizon Hotel.

The lobby was packed with dozens of high-society socialites, international business executives, and wealthy heiresses sipping afternoon coffee.

With swift, unceremonious force, the security guards shoved Harold, Eleanor, and Nicole straight out of the elevator.

THUD!

Eleanor tripped over her own skirt and landed flat on her hands and knees on the polished marble floor. Nicole’s designer purse flew open, spilling her makeup and compact mirrors across the lobby tiles, while Harold staggered forward, his tie crooked and his suit jacket torn at the seam.

The entire hotel lobby went dead silent.

Cameras clicked instantly. Wealthy socialites covered their mouths in shock, whispering and giggling behind their manicured hands as they pointed at the disgraced Sinclair family sprawled on the floor.

"Look! Isn't that CEO Sinclair and his wife?"

"Why are they being thrown out of the hotel like common beggars?"

"And look at Nicole! She looks like a mess!"

Eleanor scrambled up from the cold floor, her face burning bright crimson with absolute, unbearable humiliation. She grabbed Nicole by the arm, shrieking at the top of her lungs so loud the crystal chandeliers trembled:

"Robin Sinclair! You ungrateful, heartless bitch! You humiliated your own family in public!"

Harold adjusted his torn jacket with trembling, furious hands. He glared up at the top floor of the hotel with venom in his bloodshot eyes, his voice shaking with pure hatred:

"Just you wait, Robin! You think you can survive in this city without us? I swear on my life, I will use every connection I have left to destroy your name and leave you begging on the streets!"