The Fake Ring and the Hidden Heiress

No one in their right mind would touch a place that remote—and now they were accusing me of chasing his family's redevelopment money?

As the whispers around us grew louder, Ella only looked more pleased with herself.

I lifted my gaze to Jacob, waiting to see how he'd handle this.

Instead, he stepped between us, his voice full of helpless indulgence. “Ella, come on, don't be like that.”

Then he turned, ruffled my hair, and made the introduction. “This is my younger uncle's daughter, Ella Matthews.”

He went on, “Roberta, look—I'm the only person from our whole village who made it to college. My family's got a lot riding on me. When my mom heard you already have a kid, she got worried I was being played, so she had Ella come out and… size things up.”

“The timing of us getting together is pretty convenient. It's hard not to wonder if you caught wind of the redevelopment and came for the money.”

“Don't be upset. She didn't mean any harm.”

Not a shred of intention to apologize for Ella's behavior.

The ache flared in my chest, and I forced it back down before it could take hold.

I nodded. “I'm not upset.”

Years of fighting my own battles had taught me to fix the problem first and feel the hurt later.

So I took out my phone and dialed.

“Send the word. The South Bay Village redevelopment project is on hold.”

I hung up. Jacob froze for a few seconds, mouth half-open, but before he could speak, Ella burst into a shrill laugh.

“Oh, cute—what are you even pretending to be, you little tramp?”

“Shut down our village's redevelopment project? You? Who do you think you are!”

She leaned in close to my ear, dropping her voice. “I'll let you in on something. The project manager for the redevelopment is my brother. We skimmed a million off the top. Once the payout clears, my family moves up in the world.”

“A slut who got knocked up before she even had a ring? You could spread your legs in the middle of the road and we still wouldn't look twice. You want into our family? Try your next life.”

I looked at her sharply. “Skimmed a million?”

She didn't catch the shift, still riding high on her own smugness. “What, jealous? You could sell yourself on the street and never make that kind of money in your whole life.”

I laughed—short, cold—and dialed again.

Brief instructions. Then I looked at her.

“I hope you're ready to stand behind what you just said. The Legal Department's legal notice should arrive this afternoon, and an investigation will follow.”

“I hope you're still smiling then.”

Ella threw her head back and laughed again, louder this time.

“Legal Department? A legal notice? God, you really can't stop with the act, can you, you little tramp?”

My upbringing simply didn't leave room for that kind of language.

But in all my years, no one had ever stood in front of me and called me a tramp to my face. Not once, let alone over and over.

My patience was gone. I took my daughter's hand and looked at Jacob.

I told him plainly, “Jacob, I'm disappointed in you.”

“We're done for today. The proposal? I need to reconsider.”

I turned to leave, but Ella grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

“You don't get to walk without paying up! Jacob saved for three months to buy me these shoes, and your little bastard just stepped all over them—pay up!”

“Plus two hundred thousand for emotional damages. Every last cent!”

Ella arched a brow, eyes sharp and calculating. “The house is covered—we've got one in the village. But the wedding car should be on you. A man of Jacob's caliber deserves at least a BMW, three hundred thousand minimum.”

“Add it all up, that's five hundred and eighteen thousand, not a penny less. You don't hand over the cash today, you don't leave.”

I barely even heard the rest of what Ella said.

My ears were ringing. I raised my head and asked one more time to be sure. “You said those shoes—Jacob saved three months to buy them for you?”