Chapter 5: The Stone and the Share

A domestic explosion was imminent. The entire Vance family, including George Vance, treated this kind of casual brutality as a nightly spectacle, a form of entertainment. They stood poised, waiting for the familiar, satisfying drama: Skylar beaten, weeping, and then forced to retreat and perform her duties.

Linda Hollis raised the heavy broom high, her eyes alight with a vicious, unbridled malice. She brought the stiff bristles down in a full, unrestrained swing aimed at Skylar’s head. But mid-air, the momentum was brutally arrested. Her wrist was trapped in a grip that was shockingly small, yet cold and iron-hard.

The air solidified.

A profound, sickening silence descended upon the living room. Every member of the Vance family—George, Tina, and Mia—stared, their eyes wide with disbelief, rooted to the spot by the sheer impossibility of the scene.

She fought back. She stopped Mother.

“My compliance was not a sign of weakness, but a painful respect for a kinship that never existed. If you believe there is no longer any affection between us, then do not bother to banish me. I will leave on my own terms.” Skylar’s voice remained perfectly level, perfectly calm, yet the content of her words ripped through the strained silence, tearing into the fragile reality of the Vance family dynamic.

Linda Hollis’s face morphed through several shades of red and purple. The boiling rage in her chest was utterly extinguished by the chilling, almost inhuman lack of emotion in Skylar’s eyes. It was a look that promised consequences far worse than any broom could deliver. Linda found herself speechless, paralyzed by an unknown terror.

The silence was only broken by the final, echoing slam of the front door as Skylar walked out and closed it behind her. The sound finally jolted George Vance out of his stunned paralysis. He scrambled to his feet, bellowing into the empty hallway, a final, impotent curse hurled at the retreating figure: “Go on! Think you’re so special! You have the audacity to walk out? Don’t you ever dare come back! Die out there for all I care!”

The hateful, pathetic curse followed Skylar down the stairs. A small, cold smirk touched her lips.

George Vance wasn’t merely aloof; he was the most intolerant of her existence. He had spent years watching Linda’s vicious, constant abuse without blinking. Now that his personal punching bag, his designated servant, had stopped obeying, his pride was utterly demolished, his lungs ready to burst with fury.

But the years of expectation had long been replaced by a vacant emptiness. She held no hope for their redemption. In her eyes, the Vance family were no different from the random strangers she passed on the street.

Her first and only priority was survival, which meant immediate capital. She needed money to secure safe lodging and, more importantly, high-quality food to begin rebuilding her physical strength.

The small, backward town was severely lacking. There were no raw jade markets, and even high-end jewelry stores were scarce. Her memory pinpointed one place: a single jewelry shop located near the high school in the city proper.

The town was dozens of miles from the city center. In the past, Linda had forced her to walk the entire distance to school and back every day, under the guise of "exercise," but in reality, to save the minuscule bus fare.

Now, Skylar was utterly penniless and dangerously hungry. She had no choice but to walk. Three grueling hours later, with the sun beginning its slow descent, she reached the city limits. Her face was pale, her stomach was cramping, and only the sheer, unbreakable force of her assassin’s will prevented her from collapsing.

She finally found the familiar facade of the jewelry store from her memory, only to be hit with a wave of despair: the steel shutters were down. It was late afternoon, and the shop was closed.

Skylar leaned against the cold steps outside the store, clutching the raw jade stone in her hand, staring at the painted sky. The path of her rebirth, she realized with a sigh, was proving to be challenging, unforgiving, and utterly exhausting.

As she rested, a sleek, black sedan suddenly pulled up. It stopped right in front of her. The window glided down, revealing the face of a man with a solid, honest expression. "Little one, what are you doing sitting outside my store?"

Skylar recognized him instantly from her research in the previous life. Alan Sterling. She immediately stood, gripping the jade, and approached the car, her voice a deliberate whisper of helplessness. “I… I want to sell this raw jade stone. My family is having a lot of trouble, and this is the last valuable thing we have.”

A lone, clearly poor young girl trying to sell a raw jade stone would normally invite suspicion. But Skylar’s prepared story, coupled with her thin, exhausted appearance and pale face, perfectly conveyed the image of a desperate, broke child.

The man, Alan Sterling, hadn't been paying much attention, but his eyes widened slightly when they fell upon the black, dense stone in her hand. He opened his car door and stepped out, adopting a tone of cautious warmth. “Little sister, did your family ask you to sell this?”

“Yes, my parents told me to bring it here. They said if you cut out the piece inside, we could sell it for some money,” Skylar answered, feigning a naïve, frightened understanding while subtly shielding the stone with her body.

Alan Sterling did not appear suspicious. He immediately unlocked the storefront, gesturing for her to follow. “My name is Alan Sterling, you can call me Uncle Sterling. This item is very valuable, so hold it carefully. I’ll get the machine ready, and we can cut it open to see what’s inside.”

“Hello, Uncle Sterling. My name is Skylar Vance.” She announced her name, then sat quietly in a chair, waiting. Alan even kindly poured her tea and offered her pastries.

“Eat something first if you’re hungry, little one. Cutting the stone takes a while,” he said, his actions genuinely thoughtful. Alan did not look down on her despite her ragged clothes and provincial appearance, a detail Skylar immediately noted in her initial assessment of his character.

The final verdict, however, would depend entirely on what he did next.

Alan Sterling, wearing a neat suit, sat at the cutting machine and began the process himself. He was meticulous, spending twenty minutes just grinding away a small window into the palm-sized black stone. His jewelry store was small and unknown in the city, struggling to secure good resources or compete with larger chains. He had often considered quitting, yet his deep, enduring love for jade and gemstones always pulled him back. This dedication was evident in the careful, almost gentle way he handled even this seemingly common Black Sand Skin.

But in the next moment, his careful professionalism dissolved into pure, stunned shock. A vibrant flash of translucent green appeared on the stone’s surface.

Alan Sterling’s eyes went wide. He was speechless.

“Uncle Sterling, what’s wrong?” Skylar, seated nearby, feigned an air of confused innocence.

After a long moment, Alan finally blinked, a huge, excited grin spreading across his face. “It’s green! It’s green! And the clarity is incredible!” Without waiting for Skylar’s reaction, he grabbed a wet cloth and meticulously wiped the surface clean, until the entire crystalline jade was revealed. The dazzling, crystal-clear luster was breathtaking, enough to captivate even the most cynical observer.

Skylar remained silent, waiting. Even an amateur could tell this piece was exceptionally valuable.

Alan Sterling finally calmed himself down and turned to her. “Little Skylar, did your family tell you how much they want for this piece?”

Skylar shook her head, adopting a look of perfect ignorance. “My parents just said we need money for life. I don’t understand these things. How about you name a price, Uncle Sterling?”

This was a classic move of "baiting the tiger," as no one truly ignorant would ever ask a dealer to name the price. Skylar was testing him.

Alan Sterling paused, a momentary flicker of guilt in his eyes. He hesitated, then spoke, holding the jade. “This is old-pit glass-type jadeite, very valuable. However, the finished piece is a little small, and my shop is also small; I can’t afford a huge amount. I can offer you $300,000 USD. How does that sound?”

Skylar immediately sensed his guilt. Three hundred thousand was a massive sum for a girl, but she knew the true value of glass-type apple-green jade was easily three times that amount. Yet, she appreciated his honesty in not completely low-balling her. She rose from her chair and walked slowly to stand before Alan Sterling.

“$300,000 USD is acceptable,” she stated calmly, her voice suddenly devoid of the previous weakness. Her eyes, meeting his, were now sharp, clear, and terrifyingly intelligent. “But I want more. I also want a share in your jewelry store.”