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All eyes turned to Logan.

He slowly lifted his gaze, voice calm and even: "Mrs. Perry wanted to celebrate Owen—why did it have to be today?"

Alia shouted, her voice sharp and defensive: "So what if it’s today?! I need your permission to throw a party for Owen?!"

"You do," Logan replied coldly. "You absolutely need to choose the right day."

His towering presence and icy stare bore down on Alia, stealing the air from her lungs.

For a split second, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Then Logan’s eyes sharpened, deadly.

"Any day would’ve worked. Just not today."

Alia hated that look of his more than anything—so cold, so arrogant.

How dare he look down on her like that?

Just like that woman—Anna.

She scread, "Logan, I’m your mother! Owen is your brother! Even if you don’t want to wish him well, how dare you criticize the date I chose?! Who do you think you are—"

"Today is Anna’s death anniversary."

Logan cut her off.

Alia went white as a sheet. The words she’d been about to yell caught in her throat.

The room fell silent.

Wait—what did Mr. Reid just say?

Today is Anna’s death anniversary?

Logan’s voice was calm, but the weight in his tone was suffocating.

"I agreed to host the event at Pear Blossom Estate because I thought Mrs. Perry was planning a morial for Anna."

He didn’t finish the sentence, but everyone understood the implication:

Logan had thought the gathering was to honor Anna.

But instead, they used it to celebrate Owen.

And Owen—Anna’s supposed biological son—hadn’t even considered honoring his mother’s mory.

Selina broke the silence.

"Judging by Mrs. Perry and Second Brother’s reactions... don’t tell you two actually forgot today was Anna’s anniversary?"

All eyes turned sharply toward Alia and Owen.

Alia cursed Anna to hell and back in her head.

Why today?!

Why did that wretched woman have to die today of all days?!

How was anyone supposed to rember that cursed date?

Owen stood trembling.

He truly didn’t know.

All he ever cared about was getting her inheritance.

Why would he bother rembering whether she was alive or dead?

Besides—offering flowers to a dead woman? What a buzzkill.

Selina’s voice turned icy. "Why aren’t you saying anything, Second Brother? Don’t tell ... you really didn’t know?"

Owen reflexively responded, "Of course I knew—"

"Then why," Selina cut him off again, "would you choose today, of all days, to rip up her will?"

She gave him no room to breathe.

"That will was the last thing Anna left behind in this world. Even if you wanted her inheritance, there’s no reason it had to happen today... unless—"

She blinked, looking almost innocent.

"You did it on purpose?"

On the day of her death,

You tore up her will.

You celebrated.

No one paid tribute.

Alia’s reputation had always been a sensitive one—fake heiress, the woman who stole Anna’s na and fiancé.

People were already sick of her story.

And now?

Now she had everything Anna ever lost.

And she chose Anna’s death day to throw a party, flaunt her happiness, and destroy the last thing Anna left behind?

That wasn’t a coincidence.

That was a ssage.

Selina’s words landed like knives.

Owen realized, too late, he’d walked straight into her trap.

He opened his mouth, but nothing ca out.

His face went pale. Sweat poured down his temples in thick beads.

"I—I..."

"Owen!"

Alia realized things were going south and quickly yanked him behind her.

She took a deep breath, forcing a look of sorrow and helplessness.

"Logan, what are you saying? We’re family. If you have an issue, you could’ve just told —there’s no need to cause a scene at the banquet and use my sister’s death anniversary as ammunition!"

"We’re all Anna’s family. Dad was her biological father—do you really think we don’t know the date she died?"

"Anna passed away at the end of May, not today. You’re... you’re crossing the line!"

Grandpa Perry, ever the seasoned manipulator, nodded gravely.

"That’s right. Anna passed away in May. Logan, I know you don’t want to give up her inheritance, but I’m not forcing you. We can talk things through like reasonable people."

"But to create a family rift over so inheritance—it’s just not worth it. Yes, Anna’s assets are valuable, but they’re nothing compared to the Perry Family’s fortune. Owen is set to inherit everything from the Perry Family. Why would he fight over a small slice of Anna’s legacy?"

The guests exchanged glances, unease growing.

Mr. Perry the Second chid in, playing the peacemaker.

"Exactly, Logan. Owen only asked for Anna’s inheritance because he wants to understand his birth mother better, to honor her mory. If you really don’t want to give it up, he won’t force you."

"But no one expected you to make such a scene over this... even faking her death date? That’s just wrong."

Selina smiled coldly.

So now Logan was a greedy scher chasing after a few scraps?

And Owen—poor, misunderstood, generous Owen—was the saintly son just trying to honor his mom?

What a manipulative little weasel.

Then Grandpa Perry turned solemn and self-righteous.

"Logan, Anna leaving her estate to you was already inappropriate. Giving it back to Owen would save everyone so face. As your grandfather, I don’t want to be harsh with you. So I’ll give you one last chance: change out of that funeral garb and transfer the inheritance to Owen. Do that, and I’ll let this go."

All eyes fell on Logan.

This was a showdown—Perry Family vs. Mr. Reid.

If Logan took that "olive branch," it would an one thing: he lost.

But Logan didn’t move.

Seconds passed. The air thickened with tension.

Grandpa Perry’s expression darkened.

"Logan—"

"Grandpa Perry," Selina interrupted lazily, "Anna’s dical records ended in late March."

She tilted her head, pretending to ponder.

"But you said she died in May... What happened in those two months? Did the Perry Family stop her treatnt and just wait for her to die?"

Grandpa Perry’s face twisted.

Selina looked "thoughtful."

"Then again, I did hear Anna went missing as a child. By the ti she returned, you’d already replaced her with a fake daughter."

"Everyone in the Perry Family doted on the imposter, while the real one lived like an outsider. And when that imposter set her sights on Anna’s engagent..."

"Well, Anna had to die, didn’t she? Otherwise, how else would the engagent be handed over? So she conveniently died—without treatnt. Makes perfect sense."

"Selina!"

Grandpa Perry gasped, nearly choking from rage.

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