Booted Without Notice

I opened the door just in time to see my sister-in-law, Abby Carlton, standing by the foyer. She was trying to cram a bunch of designer bags I had given her into a suitcase.

She heard the noise and quickly turned around to look at me. "Y-You… Who told you to come back?"

Her face darkened, and she couldn't stop glancing toward the living room, where suitcases were piled up.

On the couch, my mom, Sandra Cartel, got to her feet. Her expression turned sour. "Why are you back so soon?"

Over the years, I'd bought her countless silk fabrics, jewelry, and accessories. But now, she was wearing old, worn-out clothes, as if they'd been dug up from who knows where. They didn't match her usual rosy complexion at all.

I glanced at my dad, Downey Jonson, and caught his displeasure look before shutting the door behind me.

It was like sealing off two completely different worlds—the one inside and the outside, where a luxury car was parked.

Dad stood up. "It's too hot outside. Boltie got a heatstroke, so I took him to the clinic. I was about to come get you." He paused before adding, "Did you hear anything earlier?"

Ignoring Dad's suspicious look, I glanced at the luggage. "What's going on here?"

As soon as I finished speaking, Abby sneered, and her eyes were filled with contempt. "We're just cleaning up," she said.

"Cleaning up?" I frowned.

Dad walked over and said, "You just got back, and you're already interrogating everyone. Are you trying to stir up trouble?"

Abby wasted no time fanning the flames. "You're broke now, but you're still acting like the boss. Who are you trying to impress?"

I didn't respond. I just grabbed my luggage and started heading upstairs.

She quickly stepped in my way. "The house isn't ready yet. You should stay somewhere else tonight."

When I first bought this four-story villa, I'd planned it all out—the first floor was for dining, entertaining guests, and lounging. The second floor would be for my parents, and the third floor for my brother, Rick Jonson, and his family. Finally, the fourth would be for myself.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I bought this villa. And you're telling me to stay somewhere else?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, Abby snapped like an angry hen. "Rebecca Jonson, watch your tone! Isn't this house a gift from you to us? I get to decide who stays here now."

"A gift?" I shot back. "So, it's okay for you to treat me like trash and throw me out?"

I didn't want to argue with her anymore. I pushed past her and headed up to the third floor.

"You've got some nerve, you bankrupt jinx! Still acting all high and mighty. Get out of my house, or I'll call the police!" Abby shrieked from downstairs.

Ignoring her, I shoved open Rick's door. He'd always treated me well and called me the family's princess. Surely, this wasn't his idea.

"Rick, where am I supposed to stay tonight?" I asked.

He was sitting on the bed with his three-year-old son, Bolton Jonson.