Chapter 224
Lucinda didn't respond. She simply pulled out her phone, tapped the screen a few times, then turned it toward Hestia.
On the screen was an electronic authentication certificate. The date was today. The appraising institution was Starlight City's most authoritative certification center. At the bottom of the certificate, it clearly stated: [Market Reference Price: Three Million Dollars.]
Hestia's gaze swept over those lines. Her throat bobbed. Finally, she forced out, "You… you had this prepared already? Are you running some kind of scam?"
"A scam?" Lucinda put her phone away. "I was holding this when you ran into me. The surveillance caught everything clearly. If you don't believe me, we can pull the footage right now and see whether you hit me or I hit you."
Hestia's lips pressed into a tight line. She glanced at the shattered pendant, then at Lucinda's expressionless face. Her chest heaved violently several times.
She couldn't win in a fight. She couldn't win with words either. In the end, she only had one option.
"…I'll pay."
She spat the words out with extreme reluctance, then pulled out her phone, opened the transfer page, and scanned Lucinda's payment code with visible resentment.
Three million dollars deposited.
She shoved her phone back into her bag, lifted her head, and that vicious glint returned to her eyes.
"I paid. But remember this—you just offended someone from the Sharp family. My uncle is Wesley. You should know what the Douglas family's standing is in this city. You'd better pray you never run into me again, or else…"
"Or else what?" Lucinda looked at her, the corner of her mouth curving slightly. "Have your uncle come after me?"
Hestia was caught off guard by that indifferent tone. The harsh words on the tip of her tongue felt blocked by something, stuck halfway in her throat.
She bit down hard. "Just you wait. You'll regret this soon enough."
She turned to leave.
"Wait."
Lucinda's voice came from behind her.
Hestia stopped, turned around impatiently. "What now?"
Lucinda didn't look at her. She tapped her phone screen a few times.
The next second, Hestia's phone buzzed.
She picked it up and saw a transfer notification.
Three million dollars. The recipient was a public welfare account for a rural elementary school.
In the memo line, there was only one sentence: [Doing good deeds on your behalf.]
Hestia gripped her phone, frozen in place. Her gaze slowly lifted from those words and landed on Lucinda's face. "Are you sick?"
Her voice wavered. "You… you're humiliating me? You donated my money?"
Lucinda put her phone away, her tone flat. "Your money? I'd feel dirty keeping it."
She turned and walked toward the other end of the corridor, leaving Hestia and her shocked, twisted expression behind.
Hestia stood in place, watching that slender figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
Her phone screen was still lit. That line—"Doing good deeds on your behalf"—was like a thorn lodged in her eyes that she couldn't pull out.
She'd lived for twenty years, and she'd always been the one humiliating others.
But today, she'd been utterly humiliated. Someone had taken her money and donated it in her name. And then, to top it off, told her it was "too dirty to keep."
Hestia's fingers clenched around her phone. A hatred she'd never felt before churned in her eyes.
She took a deep breath, shoved her phone back into her bag, and turned toward the deeper parts of the mall.
She walked to a corner of the corridor. A man in a black suit hurried over and bowed slightly. "Miss."
"Find out who she is." Hestia's voice was low, but every word felt squeezed out through gritted teeth. "That woman just now—I want to know who she is, where she lives, what she does. Once you've got everything, I'm going to make her pay."
Her subordinate lowered his head. "Understood."
Hestia said nothing more. She lifted a hand to smooth her disheveled hair, turned, and walked toward the elevator.
The third floor of Nox Core Tower was the luxury goods section. The lighting was several degrees brighter than downstairs, and the air carried a faint scent of perfume.
Hestia walked into a high-end couture boutique. Her gaze swept over row after row of hanging gowns before stopping on a wine-red trailing dress.
The fabric was velvet. The waist was cinched tight. The neckline was slightly open, exuding a quiet, understated elegance.
The clerk recognized her immediately and hurried over. "Ms. Sharp, you have excellent taste. This just arrived today—it's a limited edition. There's only one in the entire country."
Hestia didn't haggle. She simply lifted her chin. "Wrap it up."
The clerk deftly took down the dress and entered the item number into a tablet. A string of numbers appeared on the screen.
She glanced at it, her tone growing even more respectful. "Ms. Sharp, the total comes to thirty million dollars. Will you be paying by card or—"
"Card." Hestia pulled a black card from her bag and handed it over between two fingers.
The clerk accepted it with both hands, swiped it, and returned it with both hands.
Hestia took the card, picked up the heavy paper bag, and turned to leave.
After two steps, she pulled out her phone and opened the Douglas family group chat.
The most recent message was from Valencia, with a location pin for The Velvet Fork attached: [Saturday night, 6 PM. Everyone gather to welcome Cindy home.]
Below it was a string of replies, all saying [Got it].
Hestia stared at that message, her lips slowly curving into a smile.
A welcome-home dinner.
She knew all about the Douglas family's long-lost real daughter who'd been missing for twenty years.
But she had no interest in this so-called "cousin."
A woman who'd grown up in some backwater—how capable could she really be?
She was only being propped up on stage because of her bloodline.
What Hestia was truly interested in was Dahlia.
The adopted daughter who'd lived with the Douglas family for twenty years. On the surface, she seemed gentle and soft-spoken, but behind the scenes, she'd pulled rank on Hestia more than once.
In the past, Dahlia had acted like the Douglas family's only young lady, speaking to Hestia with that faint, condescending air—as if she were bestowing some kind of favor.
Hestia had been sick of her for a long time.
At this banquet, she was going to make Dahlia lose face in front of everyone.
She curved her lips into a smile, put her phone away, and walked out of the mall in her high heels.
Meanwhile, Lucinda was passing through the side entrance corridor toward the parking garage.
Night had fully fallen. The streetlights stretched her shadow long across the ground. She walked at an unhurried pace, the hem of her trench coat lifting slightly in the evening breeze.
When she reached the entrance to the parking garage, her steps suddenly paused.
A man stood at the corner.
Dark blue suit. Tie loosened halfway, as if it had been yanked open.
His hair was tousled by the wind. His eyes were faintly red-rimmed. He looked exhausted and agitated, like he'd been waiting for a long time.
Marshall.
Lucinda's gaze swept over his face. Her steps didn't stop. She continued walking forward.
"Lucinda—"
Marshall caught up in a few strides, blocking her path.
His voice was much lower than usual, carrying an almost humble plea. "Just listen to me for a moment. Just a moment."
Lucinda stopped and looked up at him.