Chapter 8

Katie gripped her phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

'No. This can't be happening!' She refused to believe it.

That useless ex-husband of hers—the man she saw as a deadweight—how could he have possibly transformed overnight into a man of means?

It had to be a lie. It just had to be.

Her fingers trembled as she frantically scrolled through her contacts, landing on Emma's name and stabbing the call button.

The line connected almost instantly.

"Katie!" Emma's voice, shrill with euphoria, shot through the receiver like a lightning bolt, jolting straight into Katie's eardrum.

Katie sucked in a sharp breath, forcing her voice to stay level. Her throat was sandpaper. "Mom said… Mom said Westridge Terrace got bought out. That Chris got a huge payout. Is it true?"

On the other end, Emma, drowning in her own sudden fortune, didn't notice the tension in her sister's voice at all. She was bursting to share the news.

"It's true! Every word of it! I can hardly believe it myself! Thank goodness I listened to Chris! It was just a few days—I put in $350,000, and it's nearly doubled! I made a few hundred thousand in pure profit!"

"Katie, do you have any idea? This is the first time I've ever made this kind of money on my own!"

Every word was a knife twisting in Katie's gut, hitting her right where it hurt most.

But the phrase that cut the deepest was: Thank goodness I listened to Chris.

Her head spun, dark spots flickering at the edge of her vision. The color drained from her face, then returned in a flush of angry red, her expression shifting like a malfunctioning traffic light.

Gritting her teeth so hard she thought they might crack, she forced the question out, "So… you've already gotten the money?"

"Of course!" Emma chirped, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The relocation office is incredibly efficient. The direct deposit hit my account sometime ago. Why on earth would I lie about that?"

Katie's mind exploded. The last thread of hope she'd clung to was obliterated. Her throat felt stuffed with cotton, dry and suffocating. She couldn't force out another word.

On the other end, Emma was still chattering, basking in her newfound wealth, but Katie couldn't hear any of it.

If Emma had received the money… then Chris had too.

Clinging to the last scraps of her pride, Katie let out a cold, derisive laugh.

"Hah. Chris just got lucky, that's all. Nothing but dumb luck."

The flat, steady tone of the ended call buzzed in Emma's ear. Her wide, elated smile slowly faltered and froze on her face.

She blinked, the reality of the conversation dawning on her a moment too late.

"Oh, crap…" she murmured, a pang of guilt hitting her as she bit her lip. "Did I… say the wrong thing?"

It did feel like every sentence had stabbed right into her sister's heart.

For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered. But almost immediately, joy surged back, washing it away.

Who cares!

She was a wealthy lady now.

Still… all of this was thanks to Chris.

At that thought, she quickly pulled up his number and dialed.

"Hello? Chris!"

Chris had just returned home and was surprised to see her name on the screen. "Emma? What's the matter?"

Her laughter spilled out. "I just had to call you. I'm treating you to dinner! You have to let me! You pick the place, order whatever you want!"

Chris chuckled softly. He understood. After such a huge windfall, it was only natural she'd want to show her gratitude.

"Alright," he agreed without hesitation.

…

The second she ended the call, Katie's chest heaved with ragged breaths, puffing up like a bullfrog's. She hurled her phone onto the couch, a suffocating weight crushing her.

"Dumb luck! It's nothing but dumb, blind luck!" she spat through gritted teeth.

She stalked back and forth across the living room rug, pacing relentlessly as she tried to convince herself.

"Yes. That's all it is. Just luck. A nobody like him—who's never seen that kind of money in his life—suddenly hits it big. Of course he'll lose his mind."

In her mind's eye, she sneered at the mental image: him blowing it all on sports cars, designer suits, and bottle service at overpriced clubs, spending like a fool with no tomorrow.

It wouldn't take long before every last dollar of that fortune was squandered.

The thought soothed her, but only a little.

She dug the knife in deeper.

He was divorced now—he'd want to remarry eventually, right?

And what woman these days would settle down without a house, a luxury car, and a hefty sum in the bank?

So what if he got a demolition payout? Once he bought a house, financed a car, and scraped together a down payment for a new wife…

Ha. After all that, how much of the payout would actually be left?

He'd probably blow through it all and end up right back where he started: flat broke.

That final, comforting thought finally doused the furious fire in her chest. She let out a long, slow breath and collapsed back into the sofa, a trace of her old superiority returning to her lips.

Yes.

Some things were just innate—perspective and ambition.

A worthless man would always be worthless, even if a fortune fell into his lap.

He and she were simply no longer from the same world.

Bzzzt—

Her phone vibrated.

She glanced at the screen. It was Shawn Peyton, the wealthy bachelor who had recently returned from abroad and begun pursuing her relentlessly. His family was well-off, and the match would've been considered suitable for the Jennings.

On any other day, she might have indulged him, even basked in his flattery.

But right now, her chest still burned with fury. She had no patience for anyone.

That brief flash of superiority evaporated, replaced by icy annoyance.

She swiped to answer, her tone frosty as shards of ice. "Hello."

On the other end came a slightly affected, low-pitched male voice—trying too hard to sound magnetic.

"My beautiful Katie, are you free tonight? I've just reserved a table at the Skyview Restaurant. Join me for dinner? We could enjoy the best night view of the city together."

Katie's brow furrowed deeper.

The Skyview Restaurant? That was a place a man like Chris would never set foot in his whole life.

But the thought of him suddenly holding hundreds of thousands stabbed her all over again, and the anger came roaring back.

"No!" Her voice shot up, sharp with unrestrained irritation. "I'm busy. I have things to do."

There was a beat of silence. Shawn clearly hadn't expected such a curt rejection.

He recovered quickly, slipping back into his polished "gentleman" tone. "Oh, what a pity. But I understand—career comes first. Next time, then?"

"We'll see!" Katie snapped. Without another word, she hung up.

On the other end, Shawn's smile stiffened, then darkened.

But soon, he adjusted, his lips curling with a faint, amused smirk.

"Spicy," he murmured at his reflection in the phone screen. "Just the way I like it."