Let's Head To The Bank

Daisy shifted her gaze down to four-year-old Lukas, who was clinging to Maureen’s skirt.

​Looking at the boy, her heart gave a painful, conflicted throb. She remembered holding him through late-night fevers, cradling him when he cried, and pouring years of maternal love into raising him. 

The child had always been cold and distant toward her, but she had convinced herself he was just shy. 

Even now, knowing he wasn't her biological blood, a small, foolish part of her wondered... ‘I can't blame the child. He is innocent in all this. Maybe he’s just being manipulated by them. Maybe I should take him away from these monsters when I leave. That way, he can survive…’

​Then, the boy helped her to shatter that foolish thought and feeling of sympathy as he let out an ugly, loud whine.

​"Mommy..." Lukas pouted, tugging furiously at Maureen’s hand. "How much longer do I have to keep calling Auntie 'Mom'? I hate her! She's so annoying and controlling, always making me eat vegetables and forcing me to take naps! I want to live with you permanently!"

​Maureen let out a sweet, coaxing laugh, patting the boy's head. "Hush now, my sweet boy. Just be a good little actor for a little bit longer. Once Auntie Daisy signs over Grandfather's money to us, Mommy will take you home and buy you every toy you want."

​"She's so ugly and boring anyway," Desmond added with a cold chuckle, taking a sip from his glass. "Don't worry, Lukas. Soon enough, we won't have to look at her pathetic face."

​Standing there, Daisy felt the last lingering warmth in her chest instantly freeze solid.

​Any foolish thought of taking the boy, any shred of sympathy she had tried to salvage for the child she had raised—shattered into dust. 

He wasn't an innocent victim. He was a rotten, spoiled little accomplice who consciously played his part in their sickening game, mocking her behind her back while she bled herself dry for him.

​The realization hurt so much, but it didn't make her cry. Instead, it severed the final thread binding her to this family.

​Daisy breathed out slowly, letting every drop of sorrow burn away into an unbreakable shield of pure ice. She forced a smooth, radiant smile onto her face—the exact submissive, oblivious expression they were so used to walking all over.

Then, she began making her way down the stairs. She made sure the heels of her stilettos clicked sharply against the marble floor to announce her presence, and their conversation immediately died down.

Right. The party-pooper was on her way.

​Desmond turned around, a scowl on his face as he prepared to snap at Daisy for making them wait. But the words caught in his throat.

​His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he took her in. Her hair fell in silky, glossy waves, her skin practically glowed, and the emerald dress draped over her figure with effortless elegance. 

She looked powerful, captivating, and breathtakingly desirable—a far cry from the exhausted, pale woman who usually shuffled around the house in baggy clothes.

A far cry from the woman he was very used to ignoring.

​Desmond stared at her, completely dazed, his glass hovering mid-air.

​"Is... is there an event today that I forgot about?" he asked, his voice stumbling over the words.

​Daisy stopped at the bottom step, looking down at him with a terrifyingly calm smile.

​"An event?" She lightly adjusted one of her diamond earrings, her voice dripping with smooth indifference. "What event? I just dressed up a little. Why are you looking at me like you've seen a ghost, Desmond?"

​"No, it's just..." Desmond grunted, trying to regain his usual authoritative stance. "You didn't answer my text. We've been waiting here for half an hour, Daisy. You know how important today is."

​Maureen immediately stepped forward, squeezing out a fragile, sickly wince as she clutched her chest. "Sister... the hospital called this morning. They said if we don't clear the deposit for my overseas procedure by noon, they'll give my spot to another patient."

​She squeezed out a tiny, pitiful tear, looking up at Daisy with wide, pleading eyes. "I know $100 million is a lot, but Grandfather left his inheritance so you could care for the family... You won't let your only sister die, will you?"

​In the past, those fake tears would have sent Daisy into a panic, apologizing frantically while signing anything put in front of her.

​Now, looking down at Maureen’s pathetic performance, Daisy almost laughed at how transparent it was.

​"Oh, sister," Daisy cooed gently, stepping closer and smoothing a stray strand of hair behind Maureen’s ear. Her touch was gentle, but her eyes were as dark and cold as a coffin lid. "Of course I won't let you die. How could I bear to let that happen?"

​Maureen and Desmond exchanged a swift, triumphant look.

​"I knew you'd understand!" Maureen gushed, pulling a thick leather folder from her bag and holding out a gold pen. "The transfer authorization just needs your signature right at the bottom, and—"

​"Actually," Daisy interrupted smoothly, taking the folder but completely ignoring the pen. She tapped the leather against her palm. "I was just heading out. Why don't we all go down to the bank together? I'd feel much better authorizing a $100 million transfer in person with my legal team present."

​Desmond's smile froze. "Your legal team? Daisy, that's completely unnecessary. Just sign the paper, and I'll drop it off myself."

​"Nonsense," Daisy said with a light, airy laugh, stepping right past them toward the front door. "It's $100 million, honey. A dutiful wife shouldn't be careless with family money, right? Come along. Let's go give the bank a visit."

​She pulled open the heavy mahogany door, the morning sun painting her emerald dress in brilliant light. 

‘​Come on, leeches. Let's go see what happens when you try to cash a frozen trust.’

Desmond’s smile froze.

​Going to the bank was the last thing they could afford to do. If Daisy walked through those doors surrounded by her legal team, the senior wealth managers would scrutinize every single line of the transfer authorization. 

They would demand secondary verifications, pull up the original terms of her grandfather's trust, and ask questions that Desmond and Maureen couldn't possibly answer.

​They needed her to sign the document here—in the privacy of her own home, where they could manipulate her, pressure her, and walk away with her signature before she had time to think.

​"Daisy?" Desmond blustered, stepping up to block her path to the door, a nervous sweat breaking out beneath his collar. "This is a private family matter. Why are you dragging lawyers into Maureen's medical emergency? Just sign the paper now so I can drop it off. Why are you making things so complicated?"

​"Complicated?" Daisy paused, turning her head slowly. Her emerald dress caught the morning light, her diamond drop earrings glittering with icy precision. "Honey, it's a hundred million dollars. If Maureen’s condition is as critical as you say, having my legal team expedite the wire directly through the bank's private director is the fastest way. Unless..."

​She tilted her head, her dark eyes locking onto Desmond with a sharp, mocking intensity. "...there's a reason you don't want my lawyers looking at the transfer?"