Chapter 10

Chris settled into the chair across from Emma.

Before he could even speak, she leaned forward eagerly, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Okay, out with it! How much did you make?"

Chris lifted the glass of ice water with lemon on the table, took a slow sip, and answered with calm nonchalance.

"Not bad. Five hundred and thirty-seven thousand."

He tilted his head slightly. "What about you? Your initial investment was bigger. You must have cleared even more."

"Heh-heh!"

Emma's laughter chimed like bells. She swayed her head proudly.

"I made a few hundred grand too! You should've heard my dad—my dad, who never checks in—he actually called me today to say he was impressed!"

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What did he say?"

For once, a trace of seriousness, even introspection, entered Emma's voice.

"You know how my family is. My brother, Flynn, is the golden child, set to take over the company. Katie started her own firm—she's the 'entrepreneurial genius.'"

"And me? I've always been the mess-up. Can't do anything right except shop and have a good time. So my dad wrote my role for me a long time ago: just be the happy-go-lucky, spoiled rich kid. With my brother and sister around, I'd always be taken care of anyway."

She lowered her gaze, pushing a piece of her cake around the plate with her fork. Her voice grew softer.

"I know I don't have a head for business. I'll never be my brother or my sister. But still… who doesn't want to make their dad proud?"

She looked up. Her eyes held an intensity that took Chris slightly aback, burning with raw gratitude.

"I've dreamed of hearing my dad say I have vision, that I have courage. I never thought it would actually happen, and it's all because of you."

Chris looked into those shimmering eyes, galaxies swirling within them. For no reason he could name, his heart softened.

This former sister-in-law of his—spoiled, a little bratty, but at her core, untainted and stubbornly hopeful. She was the complete opposite of her sister, Katie, with her selfishness and her suffocating sense of superiority.

He chuckled, his tone carrying a touch of indulgence.

"Alright. Next time I come across another sure-win opportunity, I'll call you again."

Her eyes lit up instantly, brighter than the crystal chandeliers above them.

"Really?! You're not lying?"

Chris nodded solemnly. "When have I ever lied to you?"

"Fantastic!"

Emma was nearly bursting with excitement. She felt as if her life had just been launched on a rocket, and the one who had lit the fuse was sitting right across from her.

The next moment, her body moved before her brain could catch up.

She shot up from her chair, leaned across half the dining table, and threw her arms around him.

"Chris! Thank you! Thank you so, so much!"

Her soft body pressed against him, her warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. A light, clean scent—something like flowers and fresh shampoo—filled his senses.

Chris froze.

His hands hovered awkwardly in midair, unsure where to land. For a split second, his mind went completely blank.

He could feel, with startling clarity, that unlike Katie's meticulously maintained, angular thinness, Emma's body was soft and full in all the right places.

The sudden intimacy sent an unexpected jolt through him.

'Emma… Emma is my ex-sister-in-law!' A warning klaxon blared in his head.

He was just about to gently push her away when Emma, as if she'd been shocked, suddenly let go and sprang back.

"Ah!"

She stumbled back a step, her pretty face flushing a deep, brilliant crimson that spread all the way to the tips of her ears.

She clasped her hands behind her back, looking for all the world like a child who'd been caught misbehaving, her head bowed as she nervously scuffed the floor with the toe of her shoe.

"I… I didn't mean to…"

Her voice was little more than a mousy squeak, thick with embarrassment and fluster.

"I was just… just really excited! Yeah, just excited!"

Her utterly flustered and adorable expression instantly dissolved his own awkwardness. Chris almost laughed.

He cleared his throat, deliberately steadying his voice as he picked up his water glass again, using it to mask his momentary lapse.

"Ahem. It's fine, I get it."

Though inwardly, he thought, '"Excited" is one word for it. You nearly tackled me.'

To shatter the faintly electric tension hanging between them, he quickly changed the subject.

He grabbed the menu, waving it with a playful, raised eyebrow.

"Well, if you're that grateful, then I'm not holding back tonight."

Emma's head snapped up, relief washing over her features like a pardon.

"Yes! Order anything you want! The most expensive steak, the best wine on the list… Get them all!"

She thumped her chest with a grand, dramatic gesture. "My treat!"

…

The meal passed in cheerful spirits.

When the bill came, Emma swiped her card without batting an eye.

Outside, she hopped into her red BMW Mini and insisted on driving Chris home. He didn't refuse.

The car cruised smoothly down the lively streets. Feeling the cool night breeze, Chris suddenly said, "I should probably buy a car too. It's inconvenient without one."

Her eyes lit up again. "You're getting a car? When?"

"Tomorrow," he replied after a moment's thought. "Might as well get it done."

"I'll go with you!" she offered instantly, practically bouncing in her seat. "I know all the best car dealerships in Kenton City like the back of my hand. I'll make sure you spend the least money for the best car!"

Chris chuckled at her enthusiasm and nodded.

"Alright. Tomorrow morning, I'll call you."

"It's a deal!"

…

When Chris returned to his family's old apartment, he pushed open the door to find his father, George, slouched on the worn-out sofa. A cigarette dangled between his fingers, unlit. His brow was furrowed deeply.

His mother, Laura, sat nearby, her expression a mix of excitement and helplessness.

The moment Chris walked in, George leapt up like an agitated lion.

"Chris, come here!"

Chris smiled, walked over, and glanced at his mother.

"Mom, what's going on?" he asked, winking at her. "See? Dad still doesn't believe you."

Laura chuckled and gave her husband a playful slap.

"Honestly! You think I'd lie about something like this?"

But George ignored her completely. His bloodshot eyes were locked on his son, his voice raspy with emotion.

"Your mother said… the relocation money came through? Over half a million? Is that true?"

Chris understood. For a man who had spent his entire life breaking his back with manual labor, a number like that was more unbelievable than a fairy tale.

Without a word, he pulled out his phone, opened the banking app to the life-changing deposit notification, and handed it over.

George's calloused hands trembled as he took the device. His eyes scanned the numbers, counting the zeros over and over.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then his head snapped up, his eyes wide as saucers, the veins in his neck standing out. Shock, elation, and sheer disbelief were all warring on his face.

"It's… it's real…"

Chris took his phone back, his expression turning unusually serious as he looked at both of his parents.

"Dad. Mom. From now on, stop going to that chaotic farmers' market on the east side. It's too much hard work, and it's not safe. We have money now. You've both earned the right to rest and enjoy your lives."

Laura's eyes welled up with tears, her face radiant with relief.

But George's expression darkened in a heartbeat.

He slammed the unlit cigarette down on the table, his voice cracking through the room like a whip.

"Don't be foolish!"

He glared at his son.

"Enjoy life? We've just seen a little bit of money, and you already want your parents to become useless, sitting around all day? Money is just paper! It's people that matter!"

His face was set in hard lines, filled with the stubborn pride of a lifetime of self-reliance.

"This amount might look big, but how long will it last once you start spending it? We're working people, son. You don't seem to understand—if the hands stop working, the mouth stops eating!

"People can't lose their way just because of a little money. They can't forget their roots! Selling my vegetables—that's my work, and I'm keeping at it! I have to keep working and earning a living!"