Alia and her brother followed the young woman inside the house, glancing around unsure of where to sit.
The space was wide but ssy, cluttered with clothes, shoes, and children’s toys scattered everywhere.
The woman noticed their hesitation and said casually, "Sorry, the house is ssy because of the children."
Jacob, always quick-witted, imdiately pulled over a chair. "Sis, have a seat."
"Sis?" The woman, putting down her purse, turned around upon hearing his words. "Your sister went to prison, didn’t she? And this one... is she that half-sister of yours?"
Jacob’s expression froze, unsure whether to confirm.
He figured, since the woman had clearly investigated their family, she must know that their eldest sister was wealthy.
If she seized the chance to extort them, asking for an exorbitant amount...
Still, Alia was already here, so obviously she wasn’t planning to keep her identity hidden. Yet, she wasn’t keen on directly addressing the issue either, because—
The eldest daughter of the Garcia Family was dead. Alia now carried a different identity.
So, she took the initiative and said, "Who I am doesn’t matter. We’re here to ask—when are you planning to move out?"
The young woman looked her over, her eyes flashing with both amazent and jealousy at Alia’s beauty.
It couldn’t be helped—Alia’s face was the kind that srized both n and won.
"Move out? I have nowhere to..."
"Bang!"
Before she could finish speaking, a little boy dashed toward her and accidentally knocked into the round table, sending its contents flying.
"Naughty boy! Go play on your own!" The woman caught her son, scolding him before hurriedly bending down to tidy up the ss.
The purse she had just set down also fell, scattering its contents everywhere.
The woman quickly picked everything up and stuffed it back inside, but she couldn’t escape Jacob’s sharp gaze.
"I have nowhere to go. When Michael Garcia settled us here, he said we could stay forever." The woman straightened her back and, with a cold expression, finished her sentence.
Alia replied, "But this courtyard house has already been repossessed. If you don’t leave on your own, you’ll be forced out soon enough."
"Repossessed? What does that an?"
Jacob added, "My dad owes a lot of money. The court has no choice but to auction off his properties to pay his debts. I don’t even have a ho anymore."
The siblings tead up, tricking the woman, taking advantage of her ignorance—
After hearing that, the woman froze.
"If you move out now, you’ll still save face. Once the court enforces the eviction, your neighbors will be gossiping nonstop." Jacob continued to bluff.
The woman remained silent, but the older woman nearby grew anxious and blurted out, "What now... I told you not to be reckless! Now we’re left with nothing, and our reputation is ruined!"
"Shut up!" The young woman snapped irritably. Then, looking at Alia, she said, "Fine! Give five hundred thousand, and I’ll move out. You’ll never see again!"
Five hundred thousand?
Alia smirked and said, "I don’t have money. Believe it or not."
"Driving a BMW 7 Series worth over a million, and you say you have no money?" The woman clearly knew her cars.
The Audi Alia used to drive had been out of commission since Michael Garcia staged a fake accident.
The BMW 7 Series she currently drove was the cheapest one in Christopher’s garage—a careless move bringing it today.
"The car isn’t mine. I truly don’t have any money right now. In fact, I owe a friend tens of thousands for laying off the company’s employees. We ca here out of goodwill to warn you. If you refuse to listen, then the court will simply enforce the order."
Alia couldn’t stand this kind of woman. Determined not to give her a single di, she left her sharp words hanging and got up.
Just then, the little boy who’d been playing outside ran back in, shouting, "Mom! Soone’s here!"
Soone’s here?
Alia was startled. She’d only intended to bluff—the thought that soone might actually have co... who had co?
"Mom, go see!" The woman, imagining that it was the court coming to seize the property, grew nervous and sent her mother out to investigate.
The older woman reluctantly went outside.
Standing in the courtyard were two n in tailored suits, one middle-aged yet strikingly handso and elegant, clearly wealthy, and the other younger, with a briefcase tucked into the crook of his arm—equally refined.
The younger man politely stepped forward upon seeing the older woman. "Hello, may I ask... Are you the owner of this courtyard?"
The woman didn’t respond but instead asked, "Who are you?"
"Oh, we—" The younger man glanced at his boss and, receiving a signal in return, smiled and said, "We’re tourists visiting the Ancient Town. We thought this courtyard was charming and wanted to have a look."
At this, the older woman’s expression soured as she replied, "This is our private courtyard, not a tourist spot. Get out! Out!"
Inside, Alia watched the scene unfold indifferently, assuming the n were just accidental tourists who mistook the property.
"So annoying. Tourists keep barging in. Living here gives us no privacy!" The older woman grumbled as she headed back inside, looking at her daughter with resignation. "Fine, I’ll move out. Worst-case, I’ll return to our hotown!"
The young woman turned back toward Alia and said, "Three hundred thousand. No less! You understand the principle of buying peace, don’t you? Otherwise, no one will get any rest."
Alia suddenly changed tactics, agreeing readily. "Deal. But I need ti to gather the money. In three days, be packed and ready for to co by."
Jacob was stunned. "Sis! Are you really giving her the money?"
"Let’s go," Alia said curtly, unwilling to say more and heading out.
Jacob followed her out.
But as he passed by the little boy playing in the courtyard, he smiled and crouched down. "Hey buddy, how old are you?"
"Five and a half."
"Five and a half, eh? Do you know who your dad is?"
"Of course I do! My dad cos by all the ti. He buys toys, snacks!" The little boy exclaid proudly.
Jacob smiled again, patted the boy’s head, and walked away.
Outside the courtyard, Alia noticed Jacob hadn’t caught up and called out to him.
Her voice happened to catch the attention of the two suited n who had just gotten into their car.
The middle-aged man froze, his gaze fixed on the young woman at the courtyard entrance. Suddenly, he said, "Wait!"
The driver, just about to start the car, stopped imdiately.
The secretary in the passenger seat turned around, puzzled. "Mr. Smith, what’s the matter?"
Thomas Smith didn’t reply, his eyes locked on the young woman at the courtyard’s entrance, as if the mont had taken him back in ti, revealing a face that haunted his mory.
"Little Webb."
"Yes, Mr. Smith?"
"Write down that license plate number and investigate the identity of that lady."
"Understood." Little Webb, though unsure of the reason, diligently noted the plate down.
Thomas Smith kept staring out the car window until the siblings got into their car and drove off.
Chloe...
Is that your daughter?
She looks just like you when you were young—radiant and stunning, like the morning glow.
————
On the way back to the city, Jacob couldn’t help but say, "Sis, don’t even think about giving her money. Let co up with sothing."
Alia replied, "Of course I won’t dumbly hand over the money. It was only a delay tactic."
During their earlier conversation, the woman’s purse had been knocked over by the child, spilling its contents onto the floor.
Though she had quickly scooped everything back in, Alia noticed one item.
A square foil packet.
Clearly, it was a condom.
A young woman carrying such an item in her purse in broad daylight... could she be legitimate?
Alia thought about consulting a lawyer about this matter—if she could leverage this, the woman wouldn’t get a di. In fact, if she refused to back down, she might end up being arrested for illegal activity.
But this was not sothing Alia felt comfortable discussing directly with Jacob, so she kept it to herself.
What she didn’t know was that Jacob had also seen the item and, feeling equally awkward, chose not to ntion it while forming his own plans.
They reached the city in the afternoon. Alia dropped Jacob off, unsure how long she’d been away from the office. Thinking of the tasks piling up for her, she headed straight to work.
Upon entering the office area, she saw her colleagues gathered together, whispering about sothing.
The mont they noticed her, everyone fell silent, greeted her stiffly, and dispersed.
Assuming this was about the online rumors—those about Wendy Hart’s true cause of death—Alia ignored them, pretending not to notice, and entered her office.
Betty ca in shortly after, showing concern. "Are you okay? Don’t let those things online bother you. Or... maybe you should sue them! My translator told that in your country, rumors posted more than 500 tis can count as defamation and carry legal consequences!"
Alia looked up from the mountain of docunts on her desk and smiled. "Your translator follows you onto social dia?"
"Not really. I just switched to the English version. I’m just worried about you."
"I’m fine. Don’t worry."
Returning to her country in the past six months had been a baptism by fire.
Her online popularity rivaled that of an amateur influencer.
And she wasn’t inclined to let this storm phase her.
"Alright, if you say so. Oh, but... there’s one more thing." Betty suddenly took out her phone, flipped through it, and turned the screen toward Alia. "They were just talking about this. It seems to be related to Mr. Hart’s company. Do you know anything about it?"
Alia took the phone—another financial news report!
Her face darkened as she rembered the issue she had discussed with Christopher days ago.
But with Wendy Hart’s passing dominating her attention recently, she had forgotten to follow up on it.
The headline read: Peak Industries attempting to swallow an elephant—is the ant shaking the tree?
Apparently, the company had continuously acquired shares in Seal-Cloud Corporation over several trading days and now held up to 16%!
If this trend continued, there was no avoiding a major overhaul of Seal-Cloud’s board.
When combined with backstabbing by Christopher’s relatives, the external and internal pressure could lead to him losing control of Seal-Cloud.
The seriousness of the situation hit Alia hard, leaving her uneasy.
Everything seed strangely tid—occurring right after Wendy Hart’s death, while Christopher and his father were overwheld...
"I understand. You can get back to work." Returning Betty’s phone, Alia walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and imdiately called Christopher.
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