Chapter 196
On the phone, I briefly explained the situation, just saying that Mom's company was in trouble, the house had been mortgaged, and we urgently needed money to clear the debt.
Emily and William's reactions were surprisingly identical—no hesitation or questions whatsoever.
"Grace, send me your account number. I'll transfer it to you right now. Let me know if you need more." Emily's voice was firm and decisive.
"Grace, how much do you need? Tell me the exact amount and I'll arrange it immediately." William's tone was steady and reliable.
Their trust and unhesitating support felt like a warm current, instantly washing away the coldness and humiliation that had been weighing on my heart.
Soon, my phone received two consecutive transfer notifications for substantial amounts.
Combined with my own savings from work, when I added it all up, it was actually just enough to cover that suffocating debt.
An indescribable sense of gratitude and relief welled up inside me.
Thank goodness I had friends like these.
Holding the confirmation slip with the specific amount and the POS machine that the bank staff handed me, I was about to enter my password.
"Ms. Brown, please wait a moment."
A familiar voice suddenly came from the doorway.
I looked up.
It was Steven.
He quickly walked up to Tony from the bank and handed over a check, "Mr. Cole, this is money from Mr. Smith for Ms. Brown. This check should be enough to pay off this debt to your bank, right?"
A check?
Tony took the check, glanced down at the numbers and signature, and his pupils suddenly contracted, his face showing barely concealed shock.
Several bank employees behind him couldn't help but peek at it, then exchanged glances with each other.
The husband brought his mistress to the door, trying to take the wife's mother's house. When that didn't work, he turned around and sweet-talked the mistress, promising to buy her a new one.
But then he turned around again and sent his assistant with a huge check to help his wife pay off her debt.
What was this supposed to mean?
Loving his mistress but not wanting to let go of his wife?
Or was it just compensation before continuing to kick her while she's down?
Wanting to maintain the mistress's face and needs while not wanting to push his wife completely over the edge?
What a scumbag.
No one dared say these words out loud.
George's status and position were right there—not something they could comment on.
When I saw that check, I felt a surge of anger rush to my brain.
George, what exactly are you trying to do?
Is playing with people's hearts so entertaining to you?
Is watching me scramble around trying to raise money amusing?
At the very last moment when I'm about to solve the problem with my own abilities and break free from these chains, you appear again in this way—are you trying to show off your mercy? Or are you trying to tell me I can never escape your control?
I whipped my head around, my gaze shooting toward the doorway like an ice blade.
George and Sarah had already gotten into the car, but it hadn't left yet.
I stared hard at that black sedan, as if I could see through the window to the cold George inside.
I used almost all my strength to suppress the urge to rush out and confront him.
I turned to Steven, my voice trembling slightly from extreme anger and restraint, "Steven, what exactly is George trying to do?"
Ever since that time downstairs at the company when Steven witnessed my cold, fierce demeanor, so different from before, he no longer dared treat me like air. His attitude now carried an undisguised respect and caution.
He bowed slightly, holding the check forward with both hands, his tone carrying a formulaic attempt at persuasion. "Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith just wants to help, nothing more. Please accept this money and resolve the current situation first."
Looking at the check in his hands, I found it utterly ironic and couldn't help but laugh coldly, "Help? If I don't accept this 'kindness' of his, how is he planning to retaliate against me?"
"Will he have the bank come take the house tomorrow, or will he have Sarah's uncle continue to hunt us down in business?"
Steven's body stiffened slightly at my questions, his head bowing even lower, barely daring to meet my eyes.
His lips moved, but in the end, he didn't dare answer a single word.
Because he knew clearly in his heart that George's purpose in sending him here was definitely not simple help.
Rather than relief, this check was more like a more sophisticated form of humiliation, a more subtle form of control.
A slap in the face, followed by a sugar-coated poison pill.
This kind of erratic behavior—did he learn it from Sarah?
Or was George naturally talented at it?
Really, there's no need.
I'm no longer the Grace who would be overjoyed and full of hope because of his slightest bit of kindness.
Toward him, my heart had long grown cold, without the slightest ripple.
His charity and his oppression had both lost the power to affect my emotions.
I didn't reach out to take that check, didn't even glance at it again.
I turned to Tony, who had the POS machine ready, my tone calm and firm, "Let's scan the code. I'll settle it with my own money."
The bank staff stood to the side, eyes on nose, nose on heart, wisely choosing not to get involved in the grudges and entanglements between me and the Smith family.
Their task was simply to collect the debt. Whether the money came from George's check or from my, Grace's, account—as long as it arrived, it made no difference to them.
But at this moment, with my resolute attitude and clear statement that I would use my own money to pay, they naturally didn't dare accept the check in Steven's hands. That would be tantamount to getting dragged into this mess.
"Alright, Ms. Brown." Tony immediately nodded and turned the POS machine toward me.
I picked up my bank card, swiped it, and entered the password.
A crisp notification sound rang out. Payment successful.
This money had drained most of my savings since I started working, and I now owed Emily and William a significant favor.
But I didn't regret it.
Seeing that I had actually paid with my own money, a complex emotion flashed across Steven's face.
He knew the check wasn't going to be accepted.
He silently put the check back in his suit pocket, then retreated to a corner, took out his phone, and reported in a low voice to the person on the other end, "Mr. Smith, Mrs. Smith refused the check. She's already paid the money herself."
I couldn't hear what was said on the other end.
I only saw Steven respectfully say "yes" a few times into the phone, then hang up.
He turned around and walked up to me again. This time, his posture was even lower, his tone increasingly polite, "Mrs. Smith, Mr. Smith has been informed. I'll take the check back. Sorry to have disturbed you. I'll take my leave now."
After speaking, he even bowed slightly to me before turning to leave.
This sudden, overly courteous manner would have been absolutely impossible before.
Back then, while Steven wouldn't speak harshly to me, his eyes never acknowledged my existence, his attitude distant and perfunctory.
Now, however, he was respectful toward me, probably because he had long since realized I wasn't simple.
After the bank staff finished all the procedures, left a copy of the release documents, and politely said goodbye and left, the noisy, oppressive living room finally became completely quiet.
Mom had been tightly holding my hand the whole time, her palm ice-cold.
Only after everyone had left did she squeeze my hand hard, her eyes full of heartache, guilt, and a bit of incomprehension, "Grace, why didn't you take that money? That's your money too!"
In Mom's view, half of George's money was mine.
Taking it back was perfectly justified, and it could solve our immediate problem. By not taking it, I was the one losing out.
I pulled at the corner of my mouth, showing a bitter yet relieved smile, looking into Mom's eyes, "Mom, George didn't send that check to help me—he sent it to humiliate me. Can't you see that?"
"You heard it yourself just now. Right in front of us, he said he would buy Sarah a better, brand new villa, decorated according to her preferences. Then he turned around and had Steven bring this check. What is that supposed to be?"
"He wants to maintain Sarah's face and satisfy her greed, while also playing the role of a good man in front of me."
"Mom, I'm no longer that foolish girl who could be sweet-talked into confusion by his fake kindness."
I squeezed Mom's hand, "I won't take that money, and I won't let him slap me in the face again in this way."