Chapter 109
Dahlia approached from the other side of the parking lot, pulled open the door, and slid into the farthest seat in the back row.
Her gaze swept over Lucinda, then quickly moved away. She shoved the gold-embossed trophy deeper under the seat.
What was the point of her first place now?
What award could hold more weight than the name "Amy"?
The car started, pulled out of the parking lot, and merged into Starlight City's glittering night.
In the Rolls-Royce's back seat, Wesley leaned against his seat, phone in hand. The screen displayed a message his assistant had just sent.
"Mr. Wesley Douglas, Mr. Manuel Douglas confirmed that last year he offered ten million dollars for one of Master Amy's designs and was politely declined. The reply stated that Master Amy's work isn't publicly sold—only to those with the right connection."
Wesley lowered his phone and looked at the slender figure beside him, his eyes full of emotion.
"Cindy." His voice was gentle.
"What is it?" Lucinda turned her head to look at him.
"Your eldest brother tried to buy one of your designs last year. Offered ten million dollars and couldn't close the deal. If he finds out Amy is his little sister, he'll probably be too excited to sleep for three days."
Valencia laughed beside him and swatted Wesley's arm. "You have some nerve bringing that up. That project of his—if it weren't for Cindy's design, he never would've turned things around. Ten million? In his dreams. But... he said he can't get away this weekend. He and Francis still won't be able to come home. Honestly, it's ridiculous! Their sister's been back this long, and they can't even find time to visit once!"
"Alright, alright. The kids have grown up. They have their own responsibilities. We're all family..."
Valencia and Wesley kept chattering away. Dahlia sat farthest in, fingers gripping her dress, knuckles white.
She kicked the trophy deeper under the seat.
Valencia glanced back at her with a smile. "Dahlia, your sister's so talented in design. You should ask her for advice when you have time. I guarantee you'll improve quickly."
Dahlia's smile nearly slipped. She forced her lips to curve, her voice dull. "Okay. I will, Mommy."
Ask for advice?
She bit her lip, swallowing down the bitterness rising in her throat.
Why should she ask Lucinda for anything?
Valencia didn't notice her expression and turned back to Lucinda. "Cindy, you really brought honor to the Douglas family today. Your dad was just telling me in the car—all those years with the Wipere family were such a waste of your talent. With your abilities, if you'd been properly nurtured from the start, who knows how extraordinary you'd be now."
Lucinda's lips curved slightly. She didn't respond.
Wesley's voice came from beside her, tinged with anger. "That Wipere family—bunch of ungrateful wolves. They took advantage of our daughter for twenty years, then threw her out. I need to settle that score with them properly."
Valencia's expression darkened. She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't waste your breath on them. Just thinking about it makes me sick."
Wesley said nothing more, but he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
The call connected. His voice regained the steady authority of the Douglas Group's patriarch. "Spread the word. Starting today, all Douglas Group companies, and every enterprise with ties to the Douglas Group, will immediately terminate all business dealings with the Wipere Group. For contracts already signed, we'll handle breach penalties—the Douglas Group will cover them. Anyone who continues doing business with the Wipere family is crossing the Douglas Group."
The person on the other end was clearly stunned by the order but quickly agreed. "Understood, Mr. Douglas. I'll take care of it immediately."
Wesley hung up and placed his phone on his knee. His gaze fell on the neon lights flashing past the car window, his eyes carrying an unquestionable authority.
Lucinda glanced at her father's reflection in the window. Her lips curved slightly. She said nothing.
The car pulled through the gates of the Douglas Estate and stopped before the brightly lit entrance.
Meanwhile, at the Wipere Villa, lights blazed throughout the house.
Preston sat on the sofa, phone clutched in his hand, his face ashen.
The screen displayed a string of emails and text messages—dense, one after another, each one bad news.
[Mr. Wipere, we sincerely apologize, but due to recent negative press surrounding your company, we've decided to terminate our partnership with the Wipere Group. We will pay the penalty fees as stipulated in the contract.]
[Mr. Wipere, I just received notice that the Douglas Group has made it clear—anyone who partners with the Wipere family is crossing them. We have no choice. Please understand.]
[Mr. Wipere, the investor for the East City project has pulled out, citing excessive risk.]
One message after another—like knives stabbing into Preston's heart.
His fingers began to tremble. The phone slipped from his palm and fell onto the carpet.
Gemma sat beside him, her face waxy yellow, a sheen of cold sweat on her forehead.
Her phone lit up. She picked it up and saw a legal notice.
Sender: Lucinda.
Subject: Defamation, slander, violation of reputation rights.
Compensation demanded: Fifty million dollars.
Gemma's hand jerked violently. Her phone fell to the floor, landing beside Preston's.
"Fifty... fifty million..." Her lips trembled as her face shifted from yellow to gray-white. "That ungrateful wretch—she's actually suing us... demanding fifty million..."
Allegra sat on the opposite sofa, hair disheveled, fingers twisting her dress hem. She said nothing.
Preston shot to his feet and slammed his hand on the coffee table.
"This is all your doing! All of it!" He pointed at Gemma. "If you hadn't been so heartless to Lucinda—never giving her a kind look, never treating her like a human being—would she have left? If she were still with the Wipere family, with her status as Amy now, how much could she have earned for us?"
Gemma's lips trembled. She wanted to argue back, but meeting Preston's eyes, all her words stuck in her throat.
Preston turned his glare on Allegra, his voice rising. "And you! Stealing her designs, spreading lies about her—do you have any brains at all? Now look—she's suing you, demanding fifty million dollars. How are you going to pay that?"
Tears streamed down Allegra's face, but she didn't dare say a word.
Preston paced back and forth across the living room, breathing heavily, then stopped abruptly.
"Both of you. First thing tomorrow morning, you'll go apologize to Lucinda. Get on your knees and beg her. Beg her to drop the lawsuit. Beg her to spare the Wipere family. Otherwise—" His voice suddenly dropped. "Otherwise, we'll just wait for bankruptcy."
Gemma jerked her head up, her expression shifting from fear to resentment. "Apologize? Why should I apologize to that ungrateful brat? She freeloaded off the Wipere family for twenty years, and now she turns around and attacks us—and I'm supposed to bow to her? In her dreams!"
Allegra lifted her head too, lips trembling. "Dad, I'm not going... I'd rather die than go... If I go, I'll never be able to hold my head up again..."
Preston looked at the two women before him. He took a deep breath. "Not going? Then just wait. Wait for the Wipere family to go bankrupt. Wait for us to be evicted from this house. Wait for all your designer bags, designer clothes, designer jewelry to be seized to pay debts. When that happens, you won't even have a place to cry."
The living room fell silent.
Gemma slumped on the sofa, eyes glazed.
Allegra shrank into the corner, tears silently streaming down her face.
Preston stood there, looking at the expensive artwork, mahogany furniture, crystal chandeliers throughout the living room. Right now, they all seemed like one grand, absurd joke.
He closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
It was over.
Everything was over.