Chapter 278

Chapter 278

I had planned to let the phone ring until it disconnected automatically.

But when I thought of Violet’s kind face, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I sighed, picked up my phone, walked to the window to answer the call.

"Grandma." I tried to sound relaxed and natural.

"Grace," Violet's voice sounded cheerful, as if she was holding back good news, "Were you just on the phone with George?"

I froze, denial on the tip of my tongue, but the words wouldn’t come.

If Violet was asking, she already knew something.

Maybe George had said something.

"Yes, we talked about some work stuff." I answered vaguely, feeling uneasy inside.

"I knew it!" Violet sounded even happier. "Did he tell you he's bringing you and Milly home for the family gathering in a few days?"

Family gathering?

My chest lurched, as if something had struck me.

Taking Milly and me back for the Smith family gathering?

George hadn't said a word about it.

Our entire phone call had revolved around Sarah, the firing, investments and rumors.

He hadn't even made small talk, so how could he have mentioned any family gathering?

Had Violet misunderstood?

Or was George putting her off, using me as a shield?

I opened my mouth, ready to deny it immediately. "No, Grandma, he didn't say..."

But as the words left my lips, my eyes caught the bright sunlight outside the window. I remembered the loving and hopeful look in Violet's eyes whenever she mentioned Milly. I couldn't finish.

Violet was old and in poor health.

We had never spoken about the divorce directly, but she probably had some idea.

She had always adored Milly, and she had been good to me too.

If I told her the truth right now, that George had no plans to take us back, and might even want to take Sarah instead—

How disappointed and sad would Violet be?

I was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Yes, he mentioned it."

After saying it, a strong sense of self-loathing and helplessness washed over me.

What was I doing?

Why was I covering for George's lies?

Why was I letting Violet hold onto these unrealistic hopes?

"That's good, that's good!" Violet sounded even happier, chattering away with instructions. "Come early when the time comes. I'll have the kitchen prepare dishes you and Milly love. Has Milly grown taller? It's been a month since I last saw her..."

Listening to Violet's expectant chatter on the phone, my chest grew heavy and tight, making it hard to breathe.

I gave the right answers. Inside, I felt nothing but cold emptiness.

What was George thinking?

Was he afraid to take Sarah because he did not want to upset Violet?Or maybe he wants to use Milly and I as a cover.

Whatever the reason, I felt used, sick, and deeply powerless.

A cold laugh slipped out.

Fine, George. Use us as a shield, then.

When the time came, I'd say I was busy. Or that George changed his mind at the last minute and didn't take us.

He can deal with the consequences himself.

This thought slightly eased the frustration in my chest.

But the humiliation of being used as a pawn still wouldn't go away.

I shook my head, trying to push all these annoying thoughts aside.

Just then, my phone rang again.

This time it was the real estate agent.

"Ms. Brown, good news! Your Galaxy Bay Residence property has sold!" The agent's voice was full of excitement. "The buyer paid very quickly, full asking price without negotiating a penny down."

"When can you come in to sign the contract and handle the transfer?"

It sold?

I was stunned for a moment, then genuine joy instantly swept away all the gloom and frustration from before.

"Really? That's great!" My voice brightened involuntarily. "I'm free whenever. What works for the buyer?"

"They said the sooner the better. Could you come to our office at 3 PM today to sign the contract?"

"Yes, no problem, I'll be there on time!"

After hanging up, a smile crept onto my face.

This was simply the best news of the day—no, the best news I'd had in months.

This good news made me much more productive at work that afternoon.

Even Emily noticed my good mood and joked that I must’ve won the lottery.

I smiled without answering, but the excitement inside was real.

Finally, I could move on my own terms.

That property was like a heavy tie between George and me, and now it was finally about to be cut.

That afternoon, I showed up at the agency ten minutes early.

Walking in, I was already planing how to use of this money once I signed the contract and received the down payment.

How much should I invest in Mom's company, how much should I keep as emergency funds for Milly and me, and maybe I could inject some more working capital into Star Tech?

The agency manager was already waiting in the reception area. When he saw me, he immediately came over and greeted me warmly.

"Ms. Brown, good timing. This way please. The buyer has arrived and is waiting for you in the VIP room."

"Okay, thank you." I smiled and followed him toward the VIP room.

The manager pushed open the VIP room door and stepped aside to let me in.

I walked in, and when I saw who was sitting inside, smile dropped off my face, then shattered piece by piece.

Sitting on the sofa, wearing a well-pressed black suit, casually flipping through a stack of documents, was none other than George.

What was he doing here?

My brain went blank for a few seconds, then a bone-chilling coldness instantly shot from my feet through my entire body, making my limbs go stiff.

George seemed to hear the movement and looked up, his gaze calmly meeting mine. His face expressionless, like he'd been expecting me.

He set down the documents and looked at me leisurely.

The rage of being played snapped me back. My eyes burned. My hands were shaking.

I stared at him hard and asked coldly, "George, what are you doing here?"

Why would he buy this property?

He had a dozen properties better than this one.

Did he need this one property?

George watched my disbelief turn into anger, his face still expressionless.

"I like this property. I'm buying it for myself. Is that a problem?"

He liked this property?

I laughed bitterly, full of sarcasm. "You like this property? Or do you like the person who used to live in it?"

My words were sharp and aggressive.

George's brow furrowed, his eyes instantly turning colder.

But he didn't respond to that comment.

The agency manager had gone pale somewhere during all this, hovering near the door.

He could probably tell we knew each other, but there was no warmth between us. He cleared his throat. "Do you two know each other?"

We answered at the same time.

"No," I said.

"Yes," George said.

The opposite answers left the manager even more confused. The manager looked between us, lost.

"Ms. Brown, Mr. Smith, you two talk first. I'll go outside to take a call and check on the process." He mumbled something about a phone call and escaped, pulling the door shut.

In the room, only George and I remained.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Looking at George's handsome but cold face, the joy I'd felt about selling the property had long since vanished, leaving only rage and helplessness at being played.

"I knew it," I looked at him, speaking slowly, my tone cold and mocking. "There's no way you could resist standing up for Sarah."

"So this is where you set the trap."

George frowned as he looked at me, clearly displeased.

"You're overthinking it."

"I just like this property. It has nothing to do with Sarah, and I wouldn't deliberately humiliate you this way for her sake."

"My taste isn't that poor."

Don't have such poor taste?

Looking at how completely unbothered he was, I felt the fury climb.

"Really?"

"Then what if I don't sign the documents? What if I don't sell anymore?"