Chapter 18 Minding Our Own Business

"That brat Jean is so problematic. It's because your grandmother raised her. Thank goodness I was determined to keep you with me."

Back then, the Michaels family wasn't as affluent as today, so raising Joyce alone was already a burden. They had to send their less-outstanding daughter, Jean, off to the countryside.

Eventually, the Michaels family rose in power and influence because of Joyce's accomplishments. It strengthened Dorothy's belief that Joyce was their hope and future.

Jean, left in the countryside, was thus forgotten. Dorothy had only brought her home because she was accepted to a university in Henkel.

A wave of hatred flashed across Joyce's eyes as she listened to Dorothy's words. She felt that all her family ever achieved today was because of her. Jean didn't deserve to even be compared to her.

However, if Jean gave her full cooperation this time, she would willingly pay for her to leave Henkel. If Jean refused, she would definitely make her regret it her whole life.

Sensing that Joyce had finally calmed down, Dorothy heaved a sigh of relief.

…

At the hospital entrance.

Jean had just walked out of the elevator after leaving Joyce's ward when she saw Esme approaching her.

Frowning, she walked toward the entrance. They passed each other by, and Esme stopped abruptly in her tracks to turn and glare at Jean.

"Ms. Joyce, are you here to give my sister your blood?" she sneered. "It's so nice of you. There are still plenty of chances for you to do so in the future. I'm sure you'll quickly get used to it."

Jean stopped halfway to the entrance and turned to look at her. Esme had a mocking smile on her face, as if she was enjoying some kind of gossip.

Jean raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "Sure, I can get used to it," she said, "but I'm not sure if you can stand watching the person you like be all lovey-dovey with your sister."

In a split second, Esme's face contorted in anger. She glared at Jean and spat, "Stop talking nonsense."

With a soft smile, Jean replied, "I'm sure you know whether I'm talking nonsense."

Esme clenched her jaw at those words. "No matter what, I'm still more important to Tyler than you can ever be." She forced those words out as she gritted her teeth. "You're nothing but a walking blood bank."

Smiling, Jean approached Esme. "Maybe you don't know this. But, no matter what, I'm Mrs. Larson, Tyler's wife. This alone is enough to cancel out your years of hard work."

Furious, Esme's hands balled into fists by her side. She suddenly raised one hand in an attempt to slap Jean across the face.

However, Jean was quicker. She grabbed Esme's wrist midair and said, "What's the matter, Esme? Are you mad? I thought you were confident enough to pick on me. It seems to me now that you're not a big deal, after all."

Esme struggled to free her hand from Jean's grasp, but her efforts were in vain. Her face was overflowing with contempt toward Jean.

Jean sneered at her. "Be good and stay in your place. Mind your own business, alright? Why did you have to come to me to humiliate yourself? Even if someone were to compare us, you'd never stand a chance against me."

Horror-stricken, Esme stared at Jean in disbelief. She never expected the woman to become so overbearing and menacing in just a couple of years.

"Let go of me!" Esme cried as she struggled to yank her hand free from Jean's iron grip.

This time, a smirk made its way to Jean's face, and she finally let go of Esme's wrist.

Not expecting Jean to let go, Esme lost her balance and fell, landing on her butt. Utterly humiliated, she yelled, "Joyce! You—"

There were many people around them. Esme had never been so embarrassed. She gritted her teeth and glared at Jean. If looks could kill, Jean would've been lying dead on the stone-cold floor.

Jean remained calm. She leveled her gaze at Esme and smiled at her. "You told me to let go," she said.

All that Esme could do was glower at Jean with her fists clenched.